Chapter 7
Ginny had rarely been so glad of a scarf.
The blue sky and rays of sunlight bathing the mountains with an orange glow had given her the wrong impression of the temperature. Now the valley was in shadow, it was several degrees colder than when she’d arrived and she’d only brought her light jacket, not her winter woollies.
Her toes chilled down before she’d even made it to the little rushing stream by the hotel. But the air was crystalline, light and fresh and still, with a hint of pine and moss. Perhaps that was why the colours were more vivid, the yellows of the trees and the turquoise water.
Setting off faster than she’d usually walk in the hope that she’d warm up, she took the boardwalk along the shore. Her only companion was a bird of prey circling playfully above as the air currents shifted with the approach of evening.
Twenty minutes later, Ginny was struggling to decide whether to continue all the way around or go back the way she’d come, when she found a reclining bench tucked between pine trees with a view out to the lake.
The wisps of cloud had turned golden and the first rays of pink splashed the western sky. Just for a moment, she’d sit and watch the sunset in the still, calm quiet. Peacefully alone, she’d breathe out the concerns of the wedding, let her thoughts settle and everything would be…
Nope, she wasn’t that kind of person. Her foot tapped and the silence was uncanny, shooting goosebumps up her spine. With a sigh, she dropped down onto the bench slats, discovering with delight that it spun around.
Getting out her phone, she took a selfie video while she turned in the seat, grinning at her reflection. When she was about halfway around, she noticed something in the corner of the video and paused. It looked like—
Hastily pressing the stop button, she held her phone to her chest as she hesitated in alarm, blinking furiously. She’d surely been hallucinating. With an uneasy swallow, she lifted her phone again, switching on the camera setting, and used it to peer over her shoulder.
Oh, God, she hadn’t imagined it. There was a person there, on the bank of the lake, visible through the trees – and he wasn’t wearing any trousers. She’d accidentally taken a video of him tugging them down and pulling them off over his feet, one by one.
Now he grasped the hem of his sweater and lifted it and she hastily lowered her phone again. She knew someone who had a mop of hair with curls on top, just like the ones she’d glimpsed.
Biting her lip, she slid down on the bench and told herself firmly not to peek, but her heart was pounding at the thought that it might be Rhys. She wasn’t very well hidden and he was alarmingly nearby.
Why was he undressing on the bank of the lake?
She peered over the back of the bench and gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as she did so.
He was down to his tight boxer shorts, skin pale over lean muscle – quite a lot of muscle.
She’d always assumed a ‘six-pack’ indicated the number of abs that existed on the human body, but he had a whole spreadsheet down there, waffle-maker abs.
He wasn’t bulky, like an overinflated bodybuilder, just perfectly… inflated.
Instead of shivering and suffering – as Ginny would be doing if she stripped off when it was nine degrees out – he was calmly folding his shirt, adding it to the little pile of clothing next to his towel.
Her eyes widened at the towel, then squeezed shut as he whipped down the boxer shorts. Had she thought things between her and Rhys couldn’t get worse? If he saw her—
That didn’t bear thinking about. She sank lower behind the back of the bench.
At a muted splash, she assumed he’d entered the water and peered through the slats in the seat at—yikes.
She should look away, but she didn’t. She’d never been one to admire backsides, but the way his shifted as he walked was art in motion.
Broad shoulders back, he moved into the water without flinching, then ducked under.
Ginny held her breath, sympathetically freezing just watching the bubbles on the surface and imagining him down there. He came up again after a few seconds, shaking his hair, water droplets streaming down the lean lines of his face.
Then he set off across the water with powerful strokes of front crawl, one pale arm emerging at a time.
It was meditative, even just to watch, as the ripples returned slowly to the bank without him, the way the water parted before him.
He disrupted the perfect mirror, creating distorted reflections.
It must be deep out there, because he stopped to tread water, his arms sweeping around him, his face tipped up to the sky. The sight was almost enough to make Ginny want to try it – almost.
Transfixed by the sight of him as part of the immense landscape, she realised too late the significance when he headed back to the bank.
She should have left already, if she wanted to avoid all chances of him seeing her.
But he was still moving, so perhaps it wasn’t too late to slip away unnoticed, go back the way she’d come.
It was the only option she could tolerate.
Mustering her courage, she extended one foot and attempted an awkward slide off the bench.
She landed heavily on her bottom and bit back a yelp. Scrambling onto all fours, she legged it for the path through the trees like a girl possessed by a demon.
‘Hey!’
Her hair stood on end at his shout.
‘Who’s there?’
He sounded alarmed and she glanced back reflexively to see his camera bag sitting by his clothes.
He was splashing loudly now, hurrying for the bank.
It was his own damn fault for leaving his valuables unattended, but her concern was enough to cause the moment’s hesitation that brought her escape plan crashing down.
‘Ginny?’
She whirled around but immediately regretted it.
He ducked back into the water a second too late.
She’d seen it all. She’d seen Rhys entirely naked and dripping with water and now she needed to quietly die, because she wasn’t sure what her life was going to be like with that image in her memory every time she looked at him.
The private bits were already blurry – Ginny was too polite to remember those in high definition – but his wide blue eyes, wet skin, rangy body, as natural as the mountain lake, were seared into her brain.
What she could see now was almost as bad. He was giving her his disdainful look, along with a dose of wariness in those lovely eyes. His broad shoulders were up out of the water and Ginny’s mouth was dry, words impossible.
‘Urgh,’ she gurgled, and slapped a hand belatedly over her eyes – very belatedly.
‘Can you… just stay like that for a minute?’
‘I’m sorry, I—’ She couldn’t think of anything to excuse her actions, distracted by the rustling noises from the bank that suggested he was rubbing himself down with the towel.
‘You can look again.’
She dropped her hand and gave a relieved sigh that stuck immediately in her throat.
He hadn’t pulled his shirt on, yet. You can look…
Oh boy, she looked. He had a tattoo on one of his biceps, a kind of starburst pattern, and a few words on his right ribcage, written in cursive she couldn’t read at this distance.
When her gaze fell on the pink slash of a scar at his shoulder, it snagged there with curiosity until he lifted his arms and tugged his shirt over his head and down over the grid of abs.
Ginny sucked in an enormous breath. ‘Rug up, before you catch a cold!’ she blurted out, her eyes falling to his bare feet.
He bent to pick up his shoes, pullover and camera bag and made his way gingerly over the pine needles to the bench where she’d been sitting, spinning it back to face the lake before taking a seat and propping one ankle on his knee.
‘I didn’t realise anyone was here,’ he mumbled.
‘I didn’t either.’
‘I’m sorry you—’
‘Oh, I didn’t see anything,’ she lied brazenly.
The glance he flicked her way suggested he saw that statement for what it was.
‘I mean, it’s fine,’ she continued. ‘A human body is just that, right? A body.’
He seemed prepared to let it go at that, so she released a shaky sigh.
‘I didn’t see you arrive. When did you get here?’ She winced inwardly. Now he knew she’d been looking out for him.
‘Maybe an hour ago. Do you need something?’
‘Is that a hint that I should leave?’
He looked up at her, brows knitted. ‘You don’t have to leave.’
The silence stretched. Ginny usually couldn’t stand silence, but she’d finally hit some kind of limit with Rhys. Every time she opened her mouth, she said the wrong thing.
‘Sit down,’ he muttered. As far as invitations went, it wasn’t a great one, but she followed his instruction immediately.
Then it occurred to her that he might be trying to work out who she was. She turned to him earnestly. ‘I’m Ginny,’ she blurted out.
He paused, his sock halfway on his foot. ‘I know.’
Only then did she remember he’d called out her name and she kicked herself for the umpteenth time. ‘Oh… of course.’ She waited until he had his other sock on and was tying his shoes to ask, ‘How did you know it’s me?’
He stilled, looking at her reluctantly. ‘Someone told you.’
‘Sophie thought I already knew.’
‘I meant to explain—’
‘It’s okay,’ she assured him. ‘It’s none of my business.’
He gave half a shrug, then snatched up his pullover and tugged it on. Although he was now fully covered, Ginny imagined she could still see that smooth skin and muscle, the bones and tendons that resided under his layers.
‘It kind of is your business, when you want me to take professional photos. You should know I can’t recognise people. Some places on the colour spectrum I struggle with too.’
His voice was even, but there was sadness underneath. She could almost touch it.
‘I’m not worried about the photos,’ she said emphatically. ‘The ones from New Year’s were amazing. I had goosebumps looking through them. It was like being back there for real, feeling everything again.’
He didn’t reply, but his throat bobbed as he stared out at the lake.
‘It’s impressive that you could take those pictures when you couldn’t see their faces.’
‘I can see faces,’ he insisted gruffly. ‘I just can’t recognise them. It’s complicated.’
What do you see? She was dying to know. But what she said instead was, ‘Uh, okay. I can help you with that. At the wedding. I can tell you who everyone is, point out the important moments.’
That pained look formed on his face again and Ginny felt the same. She’d never felt so wrong with someone in her life. She should have said an awkward goodbye and just left.
‘It’s all right,’ he answered with a smile that was clearly forced. ‘I’ll manage.’
Get up and go! She couldn’t think of a way to word a farewell that would discourage him from accompanying her back to the hotel. The faint frown on his features suggested he was probably trying to solve the same problem.
‘I suppose I’ll leave you to—’ Do what, you silly thing? He was dressed now. ‘I can’t believe you went skinny-dipping, in the freezing cold, at Sophie’s wedding.’ And that I saw you, she lamented silently, although she wasn’t as mad about that as she probably should have been.
‘It’s not freezing. The water is about ten degrees, same as the air.’
‘I wouldn’t walk around in this air naked, either.’ She punctuated her sentence by throwing a hand up.
‘It’s refreshing – kind of… wakes up the soul. You should try it.’
‘Nudism?’
‘I meant cold water swimming, but why not? It’s just a body, you said,’ he replied with a shrug.
‘You’re the one who has trouble with faces, but I can never tell when you’re joking,’ she complained.
‘I’m joking,’ he confirmed, but he wasn’t quite smiling.
‘Um, I’m going to the chapel and the reception venue the day after tomorrow to drop off some supplies. Do you want to come to plan for photos?’ Darn, that also wasn’t goodbye.
His hesitation was full of meaning. ‘That’s a good idea.’
‘I’ve got a hire car.’
‘Okay.’
She stood, brushing non-existent dirt off her trousers. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your… I’ll… leave you to…’
She caught sight of the wet towel, dumped in a ball next to him. Perhaps she’d be leaving him to agonise over what had just happened. That was what she was going to do. But she couldn’t quite leave without getting through the apology she’d prepared.
‘I am sorry I—I mean, I didn’t know about… Now I understand, I just feel guilty for judging you. I thought you just didn’t like people.’
‘You thought I didn’t like you.’
‘Yes, I’m people,’ she said ruefully, turning to go. ‘I’ll see you back at the hotel.’ When she got to the path, she struggled to choose: left or right? To her shock, Rhys’s voice intruded on her moment of indecision.
‘It’s not true that I don’t like you, Ginny,’ he called after her.
For a second, her heart stopped as his words rippled over her skin. She could so easily imagine he meant he liked her… She frowned to clear her head.
‘You’re very… funny.’
She threw an awkward smile over her shoulder and hoped it was enough.
‘But it really shouldn’t matter to you, whether people like you or not.’
Staring at her shoes, she responded tightly, ‘Understanding that and believing it are two different things. I care what other people think.’
A small click suggested he’d swallowed. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t care so much what I think.’
‘Huh, all right,’ she responded grimly. ‘I suppose I’ll try.’
He was waving his red flag at her: Danger! Keep out! But this time it only succeeded in making Ginny even more curious.