Chapter 8 What We Build #2
She inspected it, mouth tightening.
"The kit's under the observer's seat."
"Later. We have two ropes left."
"You bleed on my SUNDANCE bag and I'm throwing you overboard."
"Not bleeding."
"Yet."
Her thumb brushed the uninjured edge of my palm before she let me go. I still felt the touch after her hand was back on the throttle.
We finished the tests.
By the time the last skis were cleared, the sun had started toward the trees. We had a safe route, enough working gear for a first clinic block, and a backup boat that ran clean.
Luna idled us in the shelter of a long point while I called home.
Dad answered on the second ring.
"You break something?"
"Only my hand."
Luna leaned toward the phone. "He's being dramatic, Big Brew."
Dad paused. "Big Brew?"
"You prefer Frank?"
"Not even slightly. Continue."
Mom laughed in the background.
I put them on speaker and gave them the short version: tested gear, Sunday trial, Rosewater loan, Brewster control. Mom asked about safety, Dad asked about capacity, and Luna admitted what still needed solving.
"One trial," Dad said. "We control the schedule and signups. Rosewater's lending gear, not running our event."
"Exactly," Luna said.
"Then I'm in."
"So am I," Mom added. "Bring me final equipment numbers tonight. We'll build the signup sheet tomorrow morning."
"Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom."
"Thank you, Big Brew," Luna said.
"Don't make that weird," Dad replied.
"Too late."
Luna set my phone in the dry compartment and put the boat in gear.
"Rosewater's the other direction," I said.
"I know."
"Where are we going?"
She looked at me beneath wet blonde braids.
"Somewhere you can finish verifying."
The old practice cove opened behind a rocky point on the eastern shore.
I recognized it before Luna throttled down.
We had spent hundreds of summer hours there as teenagers, drilling starts, cutting wakes, arguing over form, and refusing to go home until one of our parents came looking.
We never brought star charts or secrets into this cove.
Here, we learned how to push each other without letting go of the rope.
Luna guided the backup boat into the protected water. I secured the gear, checked the SUNDANCE bag, and dropped anchor. The line paid out until it caught. The boat swung once, then settled.
Pines screened the shoreline. No houses. No docks. No passing traffic close enough to see beneath the boat's canopy.
The work was done.
Every hour I'd spent keeping my hands useful instead of putting them on Luna arrived in my body at once.
She stood at the helm for a moment after she cut the engine, looking at the quiet water instead of me.
"I could've left the gear in storage," she said.
I waited.
"Rosewater doesn't need a beginner clinic. It doesn't need another reason for people to come here." Her fingers rested on the wheel. "Brewster Bay does. And I'm good at this. I know the equipment. I know the lake. I know how to teach somebody who thinks getting up on skis is impossible."
"You do."
"I wanted one thing that happened because I chose to build it." She turned then. "Not because I got angry and made the ugliest decision of my life. Not because everybody else was kind enough to turn the damage into something good."
She'd already confessed the act in front of half the lake. What remained was the reflex to put every good choice on the other side of an invisible scale.
"The clinic's yours," I said. "You saw it. You built the plan."
"Ours," she corrected. "If your family wants it."
"Ours," I agreed.
Her shoulders eased, but only a little.
"I need you to hear the other part," I said.
"That sounds dangerously sincere."
I crossed the space between us.
"What you did today matters. I trust your work. I want you building beside me." I took her hands and turned them palm up between us, callused from rope and warm from the sun. "But I'm not keeping a ledger, Luna. You don't have to hand me a good deed every time you want to be loved."
Her mouth tightened.
"I know that."
"You understand it. That's different. I watched you after Dad said yes. You looked at me before you let yourself be proud, like I had to stamp the result first."
Her fingers curled against mine.
"Maybe I wanted to know you saw what I did."
"I saw all of it. The work. The planning. The way you listened when I changed something. The way you made room for my family to decide." I stepped closer. "You were brilliant today. Be proud because you earned the result, not because you think the result earns you another day with me."
Luna looked away toward the cove. "I don't know how to turn that part off yet."
"I'm not asking you to stop being useful. I love how useful you are. I love that you walk into a mess and start fixing it before anybody else finds a clipboard." I waited until she looked back. "Just stop making it the price."
She stared at our joined hands.
I rubbed my thumbs across her palms.
"Partnership isn't penance," I said. "And I don't love you on probation."
Her breath left slowly.
"I love the girl who could beat me around a slalom course and make me furious about it.
But I'm not standing here wishing you were fifteen again.
" I lifted her hands to my chest. "I want this woman.
The one who walked into a storage shed, found a better use for half of it, told both families how the deal should work, and spent four hours making sure she was right. "
Luna's fingers spread against my skin.
"The bossy one?" she asked.
"Especially her."
"The one who gets mean when people waste her time?"
"I'm taking a risk there."
Her lips twitched.
"The one who wants Brewster Bay to win?"
"The one who wants to help us win without making anybody else lose."
That landed.
Her shoulders dropped. Her hands stopped holding themselves still against me and began moving, one sliding up my chest, the other curling around the back of my neck.
The old warmth moved through her without taking away the woman she'd become. Same pride. Same sharp mouth. Same need to take the wheel. This time she left room beside her.
"You talk too much when you're right," she said.
"Occupational hazard."
Luna stepped into me until the wet bikini met my bare skin and the hard ridge in my trunks pressed against her stomach.
Her eyes darkened.
"Stop talking, Brewster."
"What should I do instead?"
She pulled my mouth down to hers.
The kiss answered first. Deep, wet, immediate. Her tongue pushed against mine while her hand tightened in my hair and her hips rolled once against my erection.
Then she bit my lower lip and whispered the rest.
"Fuck your girlfriend."
I kissed her harder.
Luna backed me toward the padded sun deck without surrendering control of my mouth.
Her hands found the waistband of my trunks, then moved up my sides, over my shoulders, into my hair again.
She had spent the afternoon issuing orders with a life jacket in one hand and a tow rope in the other.
Now every bit of that command focused on me.
"Shirt's already gone," she murmured. "Efficient."
"You took your shorts off first."
"Also efficient."
She hooked her thumbs into my trunks and pushed them down.
My cock sprang free between us, hard enough to ache, the head already wet from hours of wanting her.
Luna wrapped one hand around the shaft and gave me two slow strokes.
"All afternoon?" she asked.
"Since the dock."
"Good."
She released me before the contact could become a rhythm and untied the back of her bikini top. The wet cobalt fabric came away from her breasts. Her nipples were already tight, her tanlines sharp around skin the sun never reached.
I filled both hands with her tits.
Luna's head tipped back on a rough breath. I squeezed, thumbs moving over her nipples, and felt her body press into the pressure instead of waiting for me to decide what she could take.
"Mouth," she said.
I bent and pulled one nipple between my lips.
Her hand returned to my hair. She held me there while I sucked, then dragged my mouth to the other breast when she wanted equal attention. I licked the tight peak, bit gently, sucked harder when her hips began moving against my thigh.
"That's it, baby," she said. "God, I missed that mouth."
I untied her bikini bottoms and pushed them over her hips. She stepped free, fully naked except for the twin braids hanging damp over her shoulders.
Years of skiing had shaped every line of her.
Strong thighs. Cut calves. Toned stomach.
Tight waist. An ass firm enough to fill my hands and make me want to leave marks on it.
None of that strength made her less soft where I wanted softness.
Her breasts were full and heavy in my palms. Her pussy glistened between her thighs before I touched it.
Luna caught me looking.
"You planning to inspect every inch?"
"Thorough testing matters."
"Then get on your knees."
I did.
Her expression changed when I obeyed. Not surprise. Satisfaction.
I kissed her stomach, then the sharp line of one hip. My hands moved around to her ass and pulled her closer while my mouth traveled down. Luna braced one hand on my shoulder and spread her stance without waiting to be asked.
I kissed the inside of her thigh.
"Stop teasing."
"Thought you liked thorough."
"I like your tongue on my clit. Be thorough there."
The blunt demand sent another hard pulse through my cock.
I lifted one of her legs onto the edge of the sun deck, opened her wider, and put my mouth on her pussy.
Luna gasped my name.
She tasted of clean lake water, salt, and the slick heat that had gathered while we worked. I dragged my tongue from her opening to her clit, slow enough to feel her thighs tense beneath my hands. Then I did it again, pressing harder at the top.
"There," she breathed. "Stay there."
I circled her clit with my tongue and sucked it between my lips.
Her fingers tightened in my hair.