Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mia
The sun was high in the sky, and I was sweating.
Bower had been so generous as to bait my hook for me with a slimy leech for the crayfish since I still couldn’t bear to touch them.
There was stiff competition this year. Jared and two other boys were dominating the field, their five-gallon buckets already half full of crawling crayfish.
I used my crayfish-catching technique (patent pending) to catch as many as I could, but they just weren’t latching onto my fishing line.
I also kept getting distracted by the errant parent coming up to me, wanting to tell me how much fun their child had had yesterday and asking if I would be here next year.
Bower wasn’t helping my concentration either.
He stood there leaned against the marina hut, his arms crossed, watching.
I liked to think he was watching everyone as the referee, so to say, but every time I looked at him, his eyes were on me.
I felt like I was underneath a microscope, my every move being noted.
“Looks like you lost your touch!” Ruby stood there with a five-gallon bucket a third of the way full of crayfish. I was behind—that was for sure.
Dean stood on the dock, catching crayfish a few feet away from my sister. I couldn’t help but smile when he rippled the water, making the crayfish scuttle away from where Ruby leaned over the dock with her hand in the water. She said a few choice words to him before moving away.
“Five more minutes!” Bower’s voice brought a frenzy to the marina.
Everyone a part of the contest moved quicker, more feverishly, trying to catch as many crayfish as possible before time was up.
I walked along the dock, peering into the water, willing there to be a crayfish.
My bucket was precariously low. I refused to be embarrassed as a previous crayfish champion.
There! A huge crayfish scurried out from under a rock and across the sandy bottom of the lake.
It was a little farther out, but if I threw my line just right, the bait would land right in front of his pincers.
I stood with my toes hanging off the side of the dock, the line in my hand.
With a flick of my wrist, I threw the line out into the water.
The baited hook sank down right in front of the crayfish. Perfect.
The crayfish skittered out to investigate this gift from the heavens. A nice juicy leech, just what a crayfish liked. “Go ahead, big guy,” I cooed. “Latch onto my line.” I leaned over past the dock, watching, willing it to take the bait, and then—
Shit! Oh, shit!
The cold water enveloped me as soon as my body hit the lake. Fishing line forgotten, I pushed my way to the surface, finding my footing against the silty bottom of the lake. Sand and other lake debris squished between my toes. It felt like quicksand the way my feet sank into the lake floor.
The grainy texture of the sand against my skin mixed with the slimy algae that lived along the bottom sent waves of pain straight into my teeth. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to be calm. It was okay. I was okay. I could rinse off my feet once I got out of the water, I tried to tell myself.
Water from my hair dripped down my forehead and along my closed eyelids. Maybe this would all be a dream. I’d wake up warm in my twin bed, with Ruby snoring in the bed next to me.
Nope. I opened my eyes to find the entire crayfishing contest staring at me, Bower at the front of the crowd. I didn’t know what was worse: the audience or the sand pulling my feet into its murky depths.
“Mia, here!” Bower held out his hand to me. A lifeline out of this hell.
Like at the red rover game yesterday, his grasp was tight.
He pulled me close to the dock before extending his other hand.
I gladly gave him my free hand right before he pulled me up and out of the water like I weighed nothing.
My bare feet hit the dock, my sandals now sacrificed to the lake bottom.
It had been a stupid idea to try wearing them anyway.
“Are you okay?” Bower asked, still holding both of my hands in his.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. There was sand still stuck to my feet. I could feel the grains rubbing against my skin. It felt to me like I was standing on jagged, uncooked rice. My tactile senses magnified. This was why I never went into the lake.
Water dripped off me, the slight breeze chilling my wet skin.
Why had I worn a white tank top today? The black bike shorts I was wearing were fine, but everyone could see my bra through the wet tank top.
I let go of Bower’s hands to cross my arms across my chest, my poor attempt to cover what everyone had already seen.
“Mia, are you okay?” Ruby asked, coming to stand next to Bower. She looked down at my sand-covered feet. She knew what this was like for me—someone else could laugh it off, brush themselves off and carry on. That wasn’t an option for me.
“I’ll make sure she’s fine,” Bower said. He kept his eyes on me, his gaze traveling from my feet up to my waist—quickly moving up to my face.
Ruby smiled, that older sister I told you so smile that she still loved to give me.
My body shook as a particularly strong breeze hit me. Goose bumps popped up all over my skin. Suddenly I was too cold and miserable to worry about what my sister might’ve thought she was seeing.
Bower’s grip on my forearm tightened just as another set of shivers made my body convulse.
“Fuck, Mia, you need to warm up.” He pulled my torso against his.
Warmth was practically radiating off his body.
I found myself snuggling into his side, his grip tightening on my waist, his fingers digging into my obliques.
“Come here.” It was his only warning before he grabbed tighter onto my waist and lifted me up so his other arm supported the back of my knees. I was suddenly cradled against him as he began walking. “You don’t have any shoes,” he said.
I wiggled my bare toes, feeling the sand particles between them.
Immediate tooth pain. I clamped my mouth shut, squeezing my teeth together, hoping to alleviate the discomfort.
This wasn’t some romantic moment between us.
I didn’t have shoes, and the ground wasn’t pleasant to walk on without them.
This was practical, Bower carrying me. Don’t get any silly ideas, Mia.
“Where are we going?” I asked. My family’s cabin was in the opposite direction.
“My cabin,” Bower grunted. He walked with a purpose, one foot in front of another. Like he was on a mission.
Bower had his own cabin? I’d just assumed he still lived with his grandparents.
Another silly idea. He was a grown man. I could feel it all along the left side of my body.
He was all man. Hard muscle rubbed against my ribs, moving up and down with every step he took.
I hadn’t been this close to him since…ever.
Bower even smelled like a man. Maybe that was just DEET.
But there was also a scent about him that was unique, the scent I associated with Agate Harbors and how I felt up here.
Safe, assured, protected. Like a cedar closet that protected sweaters from moths.
Cedarwood—he smelled like cedarwood. I resisted burying my nose into his neck and taking a deep inhale, holding it in my lungs for as long as I was able.
Bower set me down on my feet in front of the wooden door of a smaller studio cabin. It was one of the older cabins and had thick stacked logs on the outside, with green moss growing between them.
He turned the handle on the door, opening it and waving me inside.
No one locked their doors up here. I stepped inside tentatively, not knowing what I would find.
Four windows, one on each side of the house, illuminated the space.
It was clean. Tidy. A king-sized bed was pushed to one corner of the room, and a round table with a single chair sat in the L-shaped kitchen.
A door on the other backside of the cabin probably led to a bathroom.
I stood on the rug in the entryway, not wanting to track any of the lake water dripping off my body or the sand stuck between my toes onto the clean floor.
Bower dug through an armoire next to his bed, coming out with a plain black T-shirt and dark green gym shorts.
I’d have to roll the waistband several times to keep them on my hips, but I appreciated the gesture.
“Come in,” Bower said, waving me into the cabin.
I stood there awkwardly, moving my weight between my feet. “I shouldn’t. My feet…” I gestured down to the sand already collecting.
“You’re going to make me put my hands on you again, aren’t you, Mia?” Bower asked this as less of a question and more of a challenge.
“I’m just trying to be nice and not spread sand all over your cabin.”
“All right, you asked for it.” He stalked over to where I was standing on the rug and lifted me into the same cradled position he’d carried me here in, then brought me over to the bathroom and set me down on the rug next to the shower that barely fit me.
There was no way I could bend over inside without my ass hitting one of the side walls.
Wait, why would I be bending over? Snap out of it, Mia.
Bower turned on the shower, keeping his hand under the spray until the temperature was to his liking.
His eyes stayed on me as he did. Despite being fully clothed, I felt naked when he looked at me.
I kept my arms crossed against my chest, protecting him from a personal wet T-shirt contest. It wasn’t long before steam filled the bathroom, signaling the shower was ready.
He opened a small linen closet and pulled out a fluffy bath towel, which he sat on top of the closed toilet next to the shower.
He tucked the clothes he’d pulled out from the armoire underneath the towel.
“Just leave your wet clothes on the floor,” he said gently. “I’ll pick them up when you’re done.”