EIGHT
Rayne
I could do this for the rest of my life.
Not every single day, these people are driving me insane, but I could see myself enjoying this kind of crazy a couple times a year. If I switch fiancés, do you think anyone would notice?
I want to do Fourth of July here. Christmas in Colorado sounds magical. Thanksgiving would be nice too I’m sure but dealing with Cade’s family once every six months is about all I could manage. Cade, not so much, he might need a little convincing.
But every day in between, I want to spend with him. When he’s not around, I find myself searching for him. I always notice because my smile starts to fade.
Come to think of it, I haven’t smiled in a little while now, since the cookout on the beach.
I snuck off before then to get some work done at the office, missed him the entire time, until he poked his head in the backroom to surprise me on his way to the ice machine.
We sat together for supper listening to my prissy fake future husband complain about everything on his plate, then Cade just sort of disappeared.
I’ve been telling myself it has to do with the way his family treats him, the little jabs have me wishing I could throw haymakers back at them in his defense, but something tells me there’s more to it.
He got quiet after watching a boat disappear into the cove on Cushing Island and then he was gone.
He said he used to vacation there when he was younger, before his father decided he wanted nothing to do with the man who stole my heart like it was a cardiovascular bank heist. I was so furious over his dad not being as enthralled with Cade as I am that I forgot to ask what the story was.
I need to find him.
The Procters won’t notice I’m gone, they’re too wrapped up in an after supper belching competition, for the second day in a row.
When the goal goes beyond length and volume, passing into who can get chunks territory, it’s really time for me to leave.
Some of those burps are probably attracting bears from across the lake who think it’s some sort of mating call.
At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if Springy pops up looking to get laid.
There he is, sitting alone on a rock at the end of the outcropping, facing the private island.
He looks like a still frame from a music video, all he needs is a guitar resting beside him.
The way the last traces of daylight hide him in the shadows, it makes me want to climb into the picture with him, despite the swarm of blackflies he keeps swatting away.
The discomfort would be worth getting in his bed.
Did I say bed? I meant getting in his head, because his thoughts are beautiful. As beautiful as that ripped body of his I couldn’t keep my eyes off all afternoon.
I’ve never been struck by a volleyball so many times. I’m actually pretty good, not that any of them would believe it, I was way too distracted and had to pretend it was because of Mr. Suave himself, the irresistible Giovanni Boo Bear.
“You’re missing a hell of a burp-off. Lazy Rick might have won, his poor shirt would probably disagree, that thing’s gonna need to be pre-treated and washed twice. Not sure I fully grasp the rules though because the competition’s still going.”
“Rules is giving them a little too much credit, but that is one I can explain. Chunks are desirable, but if any liquid accompanies those dry crumbles, instant disqualification. Rick never learns, he always drinks with his meal.”
“You’ve never fit in with them, have you?” I ask, folding myself onto the rock beside him. “Where did you come from, Cade Procter? And Heaven, although accurate, is not an acceptable answer.”
“After the divorce, I wanted to stay with Dad in New York. He referred to Mom’s family as neanderthals, which I didn’t understand at the time but it turns out he was right.
I was so upset about having to move out there with them that I made myself sick at night.
Didn’t make him change his mind though, he wasn’t about to fight for custody. ”
“Your real family was that one, out there?” I say nodding at the island, where for the first time in years, the cabin has lights on.
“I didn’t really fit in there either, a bunch of pretentious snobs, but at least they didn’t spit out gross food on their plate, ya know, like vegetables, and leave it there throughout the meal.
They were civilized, educated. They actually used books for their intended purpose, instead of door stops or bug squishers. ”
“Are you telling me your cousins don’t keep up with the New York Time’s bestsellers and discuss them in weekly book club while sipping chardonnay? Because I’m not sure I could believe that. Hey, there’s a rowboat over there. You wanna go?”
“You’re too good to be true, Raynedancer Bouchard.” The sigh that follows fills my heart with so much hope I could float away at any second. “Yesterday I would have said yes, but, I don’t need to anymore. For a long time it felt like something was missing, I thought I’d find it out there.”
“You still might.”
“I don’t need to anymore. I found it right here,” he says softly, taking my hands in his. “It turns out I wasn’t looking for family, I was looking for someone who appreciates me.”
“Oooh, oooh, me, I do. I appreciate the shit out of you. Not literally, that sounds like a whole different kind of contest your family might compete in. The crazy thing is, I’d jump right in, bum blazing, like guns blazing only with my butt instead, if it means getting to be around you.”
“So if I accept a few more jobs here on the lake, you wouldn’t mind if I asked you out at some point.”
“Sure, you could ask me to dinner or a movie or for my hand in marriage, all good, but you might want to ask sooner than later, I am engaged after all,” I sing, flaunting my ring like a proud bride to be.
“My fiancé won’t like me dating other men.
Even sexy successful ones who give me heart palpitations every time they look at me. Kinda like you’re doing right now.”
“Sorry for the palpitations,” he whispers, his deep voice causing ripples on the still lake. “But I can’t look away, I’m not strong enough.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind the irregular rhythm, my heart likes jazz. I’m more into Norwegian death metal and Bay Area gangsta rap personally but my heart enjoys it.”
The sound of his soft chuckle makes my eyes close involuntarily.
He doesn’t roll his eyes at my jokes or alleged zany behavior.
He doesn’t tell me to act like a normal human being.
He doesn’t tell me I’m being too serious when I’m not saying something the normal human beings don’t typically say. A girl could really get used to this.
“I don’t really listen to that kind of music. Well, maybe a little but it’s mostly girls who sing about their feelings while strumming a guitar. I didn’t want you to get excited in case you’re into Myrkskog or The Luniz, yadadamean. But I can talk Olivia Rodrigo all day.”
“How are you so awesome?” he asks through a laugh, shaking his head since I rolled my Rs in yadadamean. “You’re sure there’s no real fiancé back in Connecticut? Because I can’t believe every man in that state let you slip through his fingers.”
“I can be quite slippery when I want. And guys can be pretty cruel when you’re a chubby redhead with skin that either matches your teeth or looks like it’s covered in brown bug bites. And some people actually think I’m weird, I know, shocking.”
“I love your skin,” he whispers, planting a kiss on the back of my hand that might impregnate a lesser woman.
Me, I play it cool by nearly fainting when his lips meet my skin. I’m sure the small whimper only adds to my debonaire.
“I love your red hair too.”
When he runs his fingers through my fiery mane, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little faint. His touch has my heart skipping beats like someone scratched the jazz disc it’s been listening to.
“Your body is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The backs of his fingers slide down my arm with the tenderness of a ghost grazing my skin when the veil between worlds is at its weakest. And it’s got my knees at their weakest. Thank the heavens I’m already sitting or I’d be swimming beside Springy right now.
“And you’re not weird, Rayne. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman. I’m not completely convinced I didn’t bump my head on the jobsite a few days ago and this is all a fantasy.”
“I promise you, it’s not. If it was, I’d be engaged to a different Procter cousin.”
“Yeah, I saw the way you were looking at Lazy Rick.”
“Wrong cousin,” I say softly, drawing hearts on his chest with the tip of my finger.
“I knew I was in trouble the second we met. It’s kind of a rule around here not to fall for tourists.
So if you took more jobs on the lake, many more, you’d really be doing me a solid. Maybe so many jobs you never leave.”
“Or if there aren’t enough, I’ll just retire early.”
“I know somewhere you could stay.”
“Where’s that?” he asks in a tone so low, so close to my mouth, it causes my tonsils to vibrate.
“Right here.”
Before he can respond, I’ve pressed my lips against his, kissing Cade with the passion of a soap opera liplock your mom’s been waiting years to see. Two days is long enough for me.
His manly fingers tangle in my hair, not like my brush on an early Monday morning when I decide I should probably try to look presentable, but like I’m a priceless piece of pottery at a museum he’d protect at all costs.
Screw the insects incessantly buzzing around us, if this kiss lasts forever right here at the edge of the rocks, I will die one happy bug bitten girl.
Okay, take my blood, whatever, I get it, but for the love of all things holy, stop trying to fly up my nose!
And while we’re at it, leave my eyes alone too, they’re closed, you can’t get in. And why would you want to?