Chapter 5 #3
Hunter pointed to the right of the waterfall. “There’s a nice flat rock where you can set your stuff, and there is a smooth entrance into the lake next to it. I’ll meet you by the house.”
Once he was gone, I dropped everything on the rock and removed my shorts first and the shirt but kept my bikini on.
I dipped my toe into the water, and goosebumps stippled the skin up my leg. As I went knee-deep into the lake, painful prickles spread all over me—another rude awakening. If Hunter’s boat was unfixable, this was my bath for the next few weeks in the best-case scenario.
My hands worked hard and fast, scrubbing my body with soap and stripping days of grime, sweat, and ocean salt.
I squeezed a hefty amount of shampoo into my palms and massaged it into my hair, trying not to gag at the coconut scent but enjoying the feel of my nails digging into my scalp.
And then I had to do something I really didn’t want to do.
Holding my breath, I hurried farther in until the water was chest-high and submerged myself.
A few seconds of brutality. There was no other way to describe it.
By the time I squeezed the last drop out of my thick hair, my teeth chattered, and my skin had a bluish tint.
I was a five-foot-five-inch popsicle. Drying off, I changed into the clean clothes and collected my belongings.
I paused with the shampoo in my hand. I usually washed my hair every other day, and this bottle wouldn’t last me long.
The amount I used a few minutes ago was a colossal waste.
I should be more mindful since we didn’t have a store to run out to to get more.
At least I didn’t need to worry about tampons.
I lifted my face skyward, sending small thanks to my OB-GYN for talking me into getting an IUD.
On the way back, I threw the wet towel and bikini over the wire. In the kitchen, a calico cat—must be Monday—rested on a bench and licked his outstretched leg. He gave me the once-over, one ear turned to the side, and resumed his bathing.
Hunter stood before a small mirror attached to a tree near running water.
Foam covered half his face as he carefully ran a straight razor against his skin.
He cocked his head to the side to shave his strong neck.
I remained motionless, watching him as if he were an exotic animal, my eyes wandering the broad planes of his back.
A wave of heat swept through me. To me, broad shoulders and a strong back were like cleavage to a man.
I could stare at it until someone told me I was rude.
Hunter wiped his face with a wet towel and turned to me. My focus was everywhere at once. And, well, shoot.
His jawline was sharp, and his attractive mouth had soft-looking, reddish-pink, inviting lips. He was so damn striking I wanted to high-five his mom.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hunter traced his hand on his face. “Do I still have some foam?”
“Because…”
His tan body with just the right amount of hair running from his chest down to his navel trumped my words.
My gaze roamed over a vast expanse of torso and muscular shoulders, then down his defined abs.
Unashamed, I allowed my eyes to follow his happy trail down before it was no longer visible.
Tina was thousands of miles away from me, but I could hear her making a drooling noise and felt her elbow jab into my ribs as if she were standing next to me right now.
“You don’t have a shirt on,” I said, a little breathless.
He glanced down at his body. “Good observation.”
Swallowing, I blinked and finally snapped out of my awe haze.
I forcefully dragged my eyes away from his body.
My hand went to my head to smooth my wet hair.
I looked like crap, especially wearing way-too-big-for-me clothes.
I wished I had some lip gloss and mascara.
Tina may have been wrong about a lot of things: signing us up for the Cockology conference (it was not about cocktails—I had to bleach my eyes after), a surprise sleepover at an ophidiarium (her attempt to break my fear of snakes), the Fish Fling (it hurts when a fish hits you in the face).
But her suggestion to do the full-body laser treatment was coming in handy.
Hunter swiped his T-shirt off the branch and pulled it on, the lean muscle of his stomach tensing with the movement.
“Is this better?” He smiled, and dimples appeared on his cheeks.
Dimples? He had freaking dimples. Everything inside me fluttered as if I were back in ninth grade, with acne-pocked skin and teeth caged in braces, and a popular kid asked me to dance.
I smoothed my hair back again, then gestured to my clothes. “I look terrible in these.”
“You look beautiful.”
He was trying to be polite and lift my spirits, but my insides turned to mush anyway. For a split second, I wished we could have met in the Speakeasy bar near my house, and I wore something sexier, and smelled better, too.
Off the ground, Hunter picked up two different running shoes and a pair of mismatched flip-flops and placed them by my bare feet. “I hope they’ll fit.”
One purple Nike shoe, one green and yellow sneaker, a left flip-flop with a single green jewel, and a right one with a golden Tory Burch buckle.
“I always wanted to try this brand.” I wiggled my toes into the flip-flops. “Thanks. They fit.” I moved my wet hair off my shoulders, wishing I had something to tie it up. It was early in the morning, and the air was already so humid and hot. Or maybe it was Hunter.
Hunter’s hand slipped into his side pocket and pulled out two hair ties. “They wash up too sometimes.”
“You’re the best.” I twisted a bun on my head and stretched the hair tie over it. The band broke, flying in some unknown direction. “Oops.” I tried the next one, and it held together.
Since I was in an up shit creek without a paddle situation, the if you can’t beat them, join them approach was the best one for now.
“What else do you have on this island?”
Hunter shrugged. “A lot of really neat spots and a bunch of useless junk.”
“I wouldn’t mind checking it all out.”
Hunter tipped his head for me to follow him to the beach. “You might never want to leave once you explore.”
I scrunched up my face to hide yet another smile (today, they were very persistent). “I doubt that very much, but let’s see if you can prove me wrong.”