Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
THEO
“I can’t believe we did that.” I’m walking under the moon, Renley next to me, crickets chirping their nighttime lullaby. “We changed a toilet, and after that bastard tried to take you down, we showed him who was boss. Now he’s strapped to that floor for life.”
“Changing toilets really isn’t that fascinating,” Renley says as she walks next to me, seeming lighter than when I returned from the marketplace.
It took her a little bit to bounce back from whatever was troubling her, but once she did, she went right into handywoman mode, teaching me all about changing out a toilet.
And sure, it wasn’t quite the conversation I had hoped to have, but with every second that ticked by where she was teaching me, her mood lightened.
So I sat there, listened, and learned.
And hell, I replaced a toilet.
Not something I ever thought I’d do, but here I am, a certified plumber.
I mean, not really, but we don’t have to get into technicalities.
“I liked it. I think we should go around changing toilets for everyone. You’re the brain, I’m the brawn.
Imagine the effusive praise we’d receive.
We could be famous, like…like Mario and Luigi.
” She gives me the biggest side-eye of all side-eyes.
“Not feeling that? Not a problem, we can think of some other famous plumbers to take over. There have to be a ton of toilets here that we can replace. Although, I’m sure there are a lot of gold toilets in this filthy-rich town. Have you ever changed a gold toilet?”
“Filthy rich? This coming from a future lord?”
“Yeah, a lord who can change a toilet. Now that’s something I doubt has ever happened. Shit, I should send my father that picture I took over the toilet hole in the floor. He’d pass out in horror.”
“If he passed out in horror, that might clear the way for you to become lord,” she says.
“You’re right,” I reply in a panic. “We can’t have that. I’m not ready, nor do I want to become a lord. Best I keep that picture to myself.”
“Probably a good idea.” We reach our houses, and she turns to me with a genuine expression of gratitude. “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate all the help and the mint julep and the cookies…and the toilet talk.”
“No need to thank me, Gossy.”
“Okay, well…good night.”
“Good night?” I ask. “What do you mean good night?”
“Uh…it’s nighttime and we’re back at our houses.”
“Yes, to get changed. We’re hitting up the pond.”
“Are we?” she asks, surprised.
“Hell yeah. I didn’t almost throw my back out carrying a toilet around to just go take a shower after. No, love, we’re headed to the pond. Get dressed and meet me here in two minutes. Don’t be late.”
I take off toward my house and glance over my shoulder. When she doesn’t move right away, I tap the imaginary watch on my hand. “Let’s go.”
Chuckling, she takes off toward her house as well.
Rupert is nowhere to be found, so I quickly grab my swimming trunks, which have dried out from last night, and slip them on. I throw on some more deodorant because, well, I don’t want to be smelly, and then I grab two iced teas from the fridge before snagging a towel and heading out the front door.
It’s only a few seconds later before she’s joining me, but this time she’s in a thin red one-piece.
The cut is low on her breasts and on the sides. And the fabric is almost like cotton rather than swimsuit material.
And because the fabric is so thin, her nipples are already poking against it, pulling my attention.
And I thought last night’s swimming costume was revealing.
I was not ready for this.
“Iced tea?” she asks. “Isn’t that against your culture?”
“Not necessarily, just not wildly consumed. Unfortunately, I’ve started to acquire the taste for it, especially with the humidity here. But just for good measure, if we could keep this between us, I’d appreciate it.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Shocked, I say, “And here I thought you’d take a picture of me with it and use it as blackmail.”
“Don’t make me angry and I won’t,” she presses with a joking expression.
“You’re scary, you know that?”
“Don’t you forget it, either.”
I pretend to shiver. “I won’t.”
Then, to my surprise, she grabs my hand and leads us through the darkened woods by using the flashlight on her phone. We take our time, making our way down the worn path, and when we reach the pond, the moon is so bright reflecting off the water that it almost acts as its own night lamp.
“Why does that still water make me think I’m going to freeze my balls off?”
“You didn’t last night, so you shouldn’t tonight.” She heads toward the rope and then pauses, looking over her shoulder at me in that skimpy-as-fuck swimming costume. “Unless you did lose them and you haven’t told me.”
I pop open the front of my swim trunks and look past the waistband at my junk. “Still bloody there.” She laughs. “But if I did lose them, do you really think that’s something that I’d tell you?”
“I think it would be the first thing you told me, and then you would have gone into hysterics, asking, begging, pleading with me to help you grow them back somehow, as if I have the cure to grow balls back.”
“You don’t?” I ask, jokingly perplexed.
She shakes her head. “I don’t.” Then she grabs the rope and flings herself into the pond, doing another one of her flips.
Jesus, I find that so hot.
I take the rope next and perform a cannonball right next to her, splashing water all over. When I surface and wipe my eyes, she’s right next to me, swimming around like a shark.
“Truth or dare?” I ask, wanting to continue the game from last night.
“Truth,” she says, still circling me.
I could ask her about the toilet situation earlier and what she was truly upset about, but I feel like I handled it well and don’t want to press her. I want this to be fun. I want her to enjoy the pond with me, not dread it.
And most importantly, I want her to escape from the obvious stress she deals with daily.
“When did you know you were attracted to me?”
She scoffs. “Who’s to say I’m attracted to you?”
“Your hungry eyes every time I take my shirt off, that’s who.”
She treads water, thinking over her answer.
“You can’t skip, those are the rules. So come on, Gossy, hand it over.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “Day one, when I first met you. It was immediate attraction, but that’s all it was. You’re a handsome man; I can’t lie about it.”
Well, if that doesn’t make me puff my chest.
I’m a handsome man.
She can’t lie about it.
Don’t mind if I—
Water splashes my face and goes right into my eyes.
“Hey,” I complain as I gather myself. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“Had to bring you back down to reality, because you were starting to puff your chest too much.”
“Can’t let a guy have a bloody moment to relish the compliment?”
“No.” She floats her legs up so her toes peek out of the water. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” I say.
“Have you ever had a sex dream about me?”
“Jesus.” I nearly choke on my own saliva, making her laugh. “Where the hell did that come from? I thought we were keeping this PG-13.”
“That’s PG-13.”
“I don’t know about that. Feels really R-rated.”
“Grow up, it’s not.”
I laugh. “Did you just tell me to grow up?”
“I did, now stop stalling and answer the question.”
“Fine.” I think on it. Have I ever had a sex dream about her?
Well, do the Brits love their tea? I think the answer is obvious.
“I have. It was last night and you were in that bathing suit, walking around, tempting me until you sat on my lap and started dry humping me. However, unfortunately, when I woke up, I was dry humping my mattress and it wasn’t the same at all.
Are you happy with that answer? Because it’s probably going to happen again tonight given how thin that bathing suit is and how you came with no cover-up. ”
She smirks. “Why would I need a cover-up? You have eyes—be a gentleman and refrain from looking. I’m not the problem, you are.”
“I’m well aware I’m the problem; so is my dick.”
She chuckles. “I’m glad you can be so self-aware.”
“Just here to serve, my lady.” It’s my turn to circle her. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” she answers.
Seeing that she stepped this game up a notch, I decide to do the same. “Get out of the water and pose on that rock as if you’re taking a picture for a dirty website. Obviously keep the bathing suit on.”
“You’re serious?” she asks, both brows raised.
“Yeah, love. I am. I had to tell you about my dream, now it’s your turn to pay up. Don’t play if you can’t keep up.”
Her nostrils flare ever so lightly, but then she swims over to the embankment, hoists herself out of the water, and walks over to the rock, staring at it for a moment as water drips down her arms and legs.
Her bathing suit is clinging to every inch of her body, not offering an ounce of support. It’s only acting as a second skin.
Jesus fuck, this is what I’ll be dreaming about tonight. No question.
She sits down on the rock sideways, stretches one hand behind her, lifts her chest, her nipples hard as stone, and then tilts her head back, letting her back arch.
Fucking…
Hell.
She holds it for a few seconds and then tilts her head to look at me. “Satisfied?”
I gulp. “Very,” I answer in a squeaky voice.
Then, to my chagrin, she moves over to the rope and plummets back underwater.
When she resurfaces, she asks, “Truth or dare?”
If I say dare, she’s probably going to make me do the same thing, and right about now, I think I need to stay underwater, given how excited I was about that last dare. So I go with the other.
“Truth,” I answer.
“Really? Too scared to do a dare?”
“No, just feeling like I need to continue down a truth path.”
“Okay.” She thinks about it for a second and then asks, “Are you hard right now and that’s why you want to do a truth?”
How the hell does she know that?
Does she have underwater X-ray vision that I don’t know about?
Bugger.