10. Duke
TEN
DUKE
I was fucked.
Honestly, there was no other way to describe how I was feeling about Sylvie King. I had known it even before I kissed her, but feeling her in my arms, the way her body went pliant and wrapped around mine, I was a goner.
Over the past two weeks, early-morning texts had turned into stolen moments of laughter over the phone. As our conversations continued, playful banter morphed into a genuine exchange of thoughts and feelings.
More than once, I almost broke down and told her the truth. Twice I’d had the text message typed and ready to send, but chickened out.
I wish I could have you. I wish you were mine.
In reality, I have wanted you for years and I hate that I can’t have you.
I thought that taking care of my dad and giving up everything was the hardest thing that I have ever had to do, but the truth is that wanting you is by far the single hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Instead, I pretended like the world didn’t stop every time she texted or called. The more we talked, the more I realized how much we had in common despite our families’ differences. We laughed, we shared stories, and in those secret moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just Sylvie and me.
But even as the connection between us grew, there was an unspoken understanding that we couldn’t let it go any further.
The consequences of our secret friendship being discovered would be too great.
So we danced on the edge, savoring the forbidden thrill of our late-night conversations, all the while ignoring the fact that this delicate balance couldn’t last forever.
By mid-August, the realization that Sylvie could never be anything other than a secret had pissed me right the fuck off. I was a fool to think one stolen kiss would ever be enough.
As a distraction, I had roped Lee into helping me mend a few wobbly fences, but even he got tired of my piss-poor attitude. I barked orders at him and ignored his suggestions. Grueling farmwork was something I understood. Something I was good at. Something I could control.
I used a mallet to drive the fence post deeper into the soil as Lee held the base steady. The rhythmic pounding sent angry vibrations up my arm, and I swung harder.
“Seriously, dude. Who pissed in your Cheerios?”
My jaw clenched and I ignored the jab.
“Grab the next one. Hurry up.”
Lee was fit but breathless from my unrelenting pace. He lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, and I glared at him.
I pointed with the mallet. “I said grab it. Let’s go.”
My little brother shook his head at me. “You know what?” Lee pulled his gloves off one at a time before tossing them at my feet. “Fix it yourself, asshole.”
He stomped away in angry strides, but I didn’t stop him. The heavy mallet hung limply at my side as the August cicadas buzzed in the humid air.
Shit.
I knew Lee was giving up part of his weekend to help me out, and he was right—I was being an asshole.
Frustrated with myself, I worked solo for another punishing hour, pushing myself and letting the unrelenting self-loathing thoughts wash over me. When I finally reached the last post that needed mending, I hung my arms across the fence in defeat.
Looking out onto my fields, I reminded myself why I was doing this. Carrying on the family farm meant something. No one else was going to do it, and nobody loved it like I did. I couldn’t expect them to see what I saw or feel what I felt when I walked the rows each morning.
I glanced at the afternoon sun, wrung out.
Tension still radiated through me, and I knew I needed a break, to put some distance between work and myself before I lost my mind or damaged any more of my remaining relationships.
Once I’d decided what I wanted to do, the overwhelming urge to ask Sylvie to come along nagged me. My fingers itched with hesitation, but I typed out a quick message.
Cat fact 215: Cats bring you dead animals because they think you’re a crappy cat who can’t survive on your own.
It was another ridiculous code Sylvie had come up with. Cat facts became our way of asking if it was a good time to talk on the phone. When my phone vibrated with the incoming call, I immediately answered.
“Hey.” She sounded breathless, and desire surged straight through me.
“Are you busy today?” I had to get the question out before I lost my nerve.
“Um . . . no?” She was panting.
“Are you okay?”
Her laughter rang out over the line. “Yes, sorry. I hustled outside and got myself all winded.”
A small laugh escaped my nose. She was damn cute.
I flexed my hand to release my nerves. “Can you meet me at Van Buren State Park? There’s something I want to show you.”
Silence hung in the air. I could practically hear her thinking over the phone. We had never intentionally met. It felt like taking a leap from an airplane without a parachute.
“Now?”
I looked at my watch. “Thinking so.”
“Um, yeah. Sure.”
My heartbeat ticked higher. “Perfect. Bring a swimsuit.”
I hung up the phone before she could ask too many questions, and I climbed into my side-by-side. I tore through the fields toward my house.
Today was going to change everything.
Van Buren State Park was a secluded, hidden gem on the shores of Lake Michigan. Not attached to any of the local tourist towns, the park’s beach was a quiet reprieve during the bustling tourist season.
Standing with my back to the water, I waited.
Then, through a clearing in the trees, I watched her walk down the gravel path from the parking lot and come into view.
With her hand shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, she scanned the beachfront. My heart rolled in my chest, and my gut clenched.
She was stunning.
The mid-August sun bounced off her blonde hair, creating a halo and framing her face. Though they were in shadow, I knew her warm caramel eyes were sharp and assessing as she looked down the sandy beach.
When those eyes landed on me, her face split into a grin, and I had to swallow.
Sylvie’s hand moved into a tentative wave, and I lifted my own in greeting.
I watched her as she slipped off her flip-flops and held them in one hand to navigate through the sand.
Her long legs were bare, and I traveled the length of them, stopping at a small pair of bike shorts.
A loose-fitting tank top only hinted at the bikini top she wore beneath it.
My gut clenched in anticipation of seeing Sylvie in nothing but a bathing suit.
She stopped in front of me, tipping her face up to meet my eyes. “Hi.”
She sounded as nervous as I felt.
“Hey.” We stood for a fraction of a second, staring at each other. I fought the urge to touch her—reach over and pull her into a hug. I stuffed my hands in my pockets instead.
Finally her eyes flicked down to the paddleboard at my feet and whipped back up in my direction. “Seriously?”
I suppressed a smile. “Have you ever tried it?”
I watched the muscles work in her neck as she swallowed and shook her head.
“If you want to give it a try, I’ll help you. It’s a lot of fun and a great workout.”
Sylvie exhaled as she scanned the beach.
I knew she was being careful, looking around to see if there was anyone who might rat us out for meeting.
Being a weekday, only a small handful of families dotted the secluded beach.
Massive sand dunes hid the water from the trees behind them, creating a quiet alcove.
Her eyes moved over the families and small groups of people enjoying the quiet beach. “I don’t recognize anyone here.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?” I flashed her a mischievous grin.
She looked around; then a smile bloomed on her face. “It is pretty nice.”
I gestured toward my board. “What do you say? Want to give it a try?”
She nodded, and I could see the giddiness building in her expression. I loved that she was excited to try this with me—that I could show her a small piece of myself that I kept hidden from almost everyone else.
As I reached behind to grab my collar and pull my T-shirt off, her eyes tracked down my chest and abs. I fought the urge to beat my chest like a caveman at her approval. Sylvie slowly peeled her shorts down her long legs and gathered the hem of her tank top in her hands.
I cleared my throat and pretended to organize the board and paddle. I lifted the small waterproof backpack out of the sand. “You can throw those in here if you’d like.”
Carefully, Sylvie folded her clothes and stuffed them in my bag.
Beneath that oversize tank top Sylvie wore a sporty blue bikini that was nearly the same shade as the water.
My gaze snagged at the base of her neck, where her heartbeat hammered through the thin skin there.
Her delicate collarbone was irresistibly sexy—something I was sure I had never thought about any other woman before.
It was damn difficult to maintain respectable eye contact when the woman I had been fantasizing about for weeks was standing in front of me wearing nothing but a bikini. I cleared my throat, stuffing my T-shirt into the bag with her clothing.
I gestured toward my board. “This one should be big enough to hold us both, but we can also get you standing up on your own.” She smiled as I closed up the dry bag. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”
I reached down and scooped up the life jacket I had picked up for her.
Her eyes flicked between the vest and me. “You brought me a life jacket?”
I shrugged. “It was no big deal.”
It was actually a pretty big fucking deal because after I got a narrow-eyed look from the curious checkout clerk, I’d had to lie to the old woman’s face and tell her it was for my sister.
Sylvie slipped it on, and I helped her adjust the straps so that it fit her properly. I patted her side, letting my pinkie graze the sliver of bare skin at her waist. “Perfect fit.”
She hummed in agreement and fiddled with the straps again as I slipped on my own vest and tossed the cross-body dry bag around my shoulder.
Sylvie pulled on the small whistle attached to her vest by a stretchy cord. “A whistle?”
“Well, I can’t go losing you out there.”
She lifted one sculpted eyebrow. “Well, I’m not planning to go far from you, so hopefully I won’t need to use it.”
I’m not planning to go far from you.
I liked that.
I liked that too much.
She followed as I waded into the crisp Lake Michigan waters. After we got past the first few rocky feet of the shoreline, the lake bottom transformed into soft sand. My toes curled into it.
Once we were knee-deep, I stopped and positioned the paddleboard between us.
From the end of the paddleboard, I ran my hand down the rope leash until I got to the ankle strap.
“This is what keeps the board close to you if you fall off.” I tapped my fingers on the top of the paddleboard. “Prop your leg up here.”
Her eyes held mine, but she did exactly as she was told. I watched as water ran in rivulets down her calf and pooled beneath her feet.
Jesus Christ, it’s just an ankle.
I steadied my breathing as I opened the ankle strap and wound it around her, securing it in place. I flipped the rope end over the board, and Sylvie slipped her leg back into the water.
Her eyes looked a bit worried. “Is it hard?”
As a fucking rock.
I tipped my head to the side in a shrug. “It’s not easy, but I’m here to help you. I’ll hold it steady while you work your way onto the top.”
I held the board by the edges and guided it so that the center point of the board was in front of her. “You’re going to want to keep your hands on the side of the board to stabilize it, but I’ll help hold it steady. Work your way onto the board so you’re kneeling.”
A determined line formed between Sylvie’s eyebrows as she nodded once. As I steadied the board, she did exactly as I’d instructed her. Her right hand came between mine, and her left gripped on the opposite side. Carefully she maneuvered herself onto the board until she was kneeling.
She let out a satisfied huff.
“That was perfect. Now keep your hands on the sides and slowly move one foot at a time. You’re not going to just pop up right away. You’re gonna start by keeping your knees bent—almost in a squat—until you feel steady.”
“Like this?” Sylvie slowly raised one knee as I struggled to keep respectful eye contact. The muscles in her legs worked as she wobbled, and she let out a small squeak.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
She released a shaky breath as she attempted to move her other leg until she was in a squat.
Keeping my voice calm, I continued my instructions. “Now when you’re ready, slowly stand up.”
Sylvie started to rise, and as she released her hands, she began to wobble. Instinctively, one hand shot out, gripping Sylvie’s leg around the lower part of her calf. Her smooth skin was like a brand on my palm as my thumb stroked her. “I’ve got you, you’re all right. Slow and steady.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Okay.”
When she rose to her full height, I looked up at her and saw the sun shining down on her pretty face.
“I did it.” Her words came out in a whoosh of breath. “Holy shit, I did it!” She shot both fists up in the air. Her unexpected movement jolted the board, and though I tried to steady it, her feet did a little tiptoe dance until she toppled over my shoulder.
“Fuck.” I grumbled and reached into the water to haul her up by the vest. I expected her to be annoyed that she had gotten soaked and frustrated that she fell, but when her laughter rang out across the water, happiness danced under my skin.
As I gripped the sides of her vest, her hands found my shoulders. “That was incredible. Can I go again?”
I stared into her golden eyes and grinned.