NIGHT WATER
ELLIOT
Iwaited until the last truck pulled away, taillights disappearing down the access road, before I started walking.
The trail was easy to follow, even in the dark, packed dirt, clear edges, the sound of the lake growing louder as I got closer. The moon was nearly full, throwing enough light that I didn't need my phone's flashlight.
Ten minutes, she'd said.
I found it in eight.
Her truck was parked in the small clearing, windows down, empty. Beyond it, the beach stretched out, maybe thirty feet of sand and smooth stones, the water dark and glassy, reflecting the moonlight.
And there she was.
Standing at the edge of the water, barefoot, shorts and tank top still on, looking out at the lake like she was deciding something.
I stopped at the tree line, just watching.
She must've heard me, boots on stone weren't exactly quiet, because she turned, and even in the low light I could see her smile.
"You came," she said.
"You doubted me?"
"A little." She walked toward me, and I met her halfway. "Thought you might change your mind. Decide this was too complicated."
"It probably is."
"But you came anyway."
"Yeah."
We stood there for a moment, close enough that I could smell her, sunscreen and lake water and something floral I couldn't name.
"So," she said. "Now what?"
"Now we swim."
She laughed, low, warm, and started pulling off her tank top.
I froze.
She wasn't wearing a swimsuit. Just a simple black bra that somehow looked better than anything I'd imagined, and I'd imagined plenty.
She caught me staring. "Problem?"
"No."
"You sure? You look like you've stopped breathing."
"I'm breathing."
"Barely."
She pushed her shorts down, and I realized she'd planned this, matching black underwear that left very little to the imagination but somehow made me want to see more.
"Your turn," she said.
Right.
I pulled off my shirt, then my boots and socks, then hesitated at my jeans.
"Don't get shy now," she said. "I've been picturing you for three weeks. Least you can do is let me confirm my guesses."
I huffed a quiet laugh and stripped down to my boxers, trying not to feel self-conscious about the fact that I was forty-five and hadn't been this exposed to a woman in years.
She looked at me, really looked, and I saw her expression shift.
"Well," she said quietly. "I was very wrong about several things."
"Like what?"
"Like thinking I could handle this casually." She moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. "You're not making this easy, Burns."
"Good."
"Is it?"
"Yeah." I reached out, fingertips brushing her hip. "Because you've been driving me crazy for weeks, and I'm glad I'm not the only one struggling."
"Who said I'm struggling?"
"Your breathing just changed."
"So did yours."
"I know."
She tilted her head back, looking up at me. "Are we going to swim, or are we just going to stand here touching each other very carefully?"
"Both."
"Both?"
"Yeah." I slid my hand around to the small of her back. "Swim first. Then touching."
"You have a plan."
"I have an idea of how this should go."
"And how should it go?"
"Slowly."
"I'm not good at slowly."
"I know." I guided her backward, toward the water. "But we've got all night, and I'm not rushing this."
"Elliot..."
"Trust me."
She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay."
The water was cold, shockingly cold, and she gasped when it hit her thighs.
I kept my hands on her waist, steadying her, and she grabbed my shoulders.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
"Too cold?"
"No. Perfect." She moved deeper, pulling me with her. "I needed this."
"Why?"
"Because you were looking at me like that all night, and I was losing my mind."
"Like what?"
"Like you wanted to devour me."
"I did. I do."
She laughed, and the sound echoed across the water. "So much for slowly."
"I can want you and still take my time."
We were waist-deep now, the cold biting but not unbearable, and she let go of my shoulders to float backward, arms spread, hair fanning out around her.
I watched her, the curve of her body, the moonlight on her skin, the way she moved through the water like she belonged in it.
"You're staring again," she said without opening her eyes.
"I know."
"Does it bother you? That I'm not what you expected?"
"You're exactly what I expected."
"Liar."
"I'm serious." I moved closer, catching her hand. "You're exactly what I hoped for."
She opened her eyes then, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Elliot."
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
I didn't need to be told twice.
I pulled her in, slow, deliberate, and felt her wrap around me, legs locking behind my back, arms circling my neck.
Her mouth was cold from the water, but warmed quickly, and when she opened for me, I tasted lake water and something sweet underneath.
She made a sound, low, needy, and I swallowed it, one hand tangling in her wet hair, the other splayed across her lower back.
Because Pat kissed like she talked, confident, generous, holding nothing back.
And when she pulled away, breathing hard, she looked at me like I'd just proven something important.
"What?" I asked.
"I was right."
"About what?"
"You. This." She kissed me again, quick and certain. "You're better in person."
"So are you."
"Good." She tightened her legs around me. "Because I'm not letting you go back to Spokane in September."
The words hung between us, too serious for the moment but impossible to ignore.
"Pat..."
"I know. Too fast. Too much." She loosened her grip slightly. "Ignore me. I'm just..."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't take it back." I held her gaze. "Because I've been thinking the same thing."
"You have?"
"Yeah." I brushed wet hair off her forehead. "I don't want this to be just summer."
"Then what do you want it to be?"
"I don't know yet. But I know I'm not walking away from you in September."
She studied me for a long moment, then kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, like she was sealing something.
When she pulled back, she was smiling.
"Stay with me tonight," she said. "At my place."
"You sure?"
"Very sure." She unwrapped from me and started wading toward shore. "Because if I go home alone after that kiss, I'm going to lose my mind."
I followed her out of the water, watching the way moonlight caught on her wet skin, the curve of her hips, the confidence in every movement.
She grabbed her clothes but didn't put them on. Just held them against her chest and looked back at me.
"You coming?" she asked.
"Definitely."
"Good." She started toward the parking area. "Because slowly officially ends when we get to my house."
I grabbed my own clothes and followed, pulse hammering, already wondering what came after slowly.
Already knowing it would be worth the wait.
I climbed into my truck and followed her taillights down the dark road, heart racing, hands steady.
This was happening.
And I couldn't wait to see what came next.