Depths of Lake (23 page)

“Call me baby again,” I breathe.

“Anything you want, Baby,” he whispers into my lips.
 
His eyelashes brush against mine, sending a million tingles up my spine.

A few minutes later, we climb back into the boat with some effort.
 
It’s a trick to get Lake back in.
 
He’s so huge that every time he attempts to get inside, he nearly capsizes us.
 
But finally, he makes it.

I unearth the blanket that is stored in one end of the canoe, in a waterproof compartment.
 
Lake and I snuggle up on one end of the boat, lying down as best we can with the benches in the way.
 
I lay curled up into his side, his arms wrapped around me.

It’s peaceful, and quiet, a completely perfect.

My fingers trace over the stars tattooed over Lake’s right breast, just over his heart.
 
“They’re for your brothers who didn’t make it home, aren’t they?” I say quietly.

Lake nods, his scratchy cheek brushing in my wet hair.
 
My finger traces the points of the last
star,
the one I know is for Cal.

“Riley, there’s something I need to tell you,” Lake says quietly.
 
As he says it, his arms tighten around me just slightly.

“What is it?” I ask, pressing my cheek into his chest just a little harder.

“I’ve been called back into service,” he says.

My entire body slows, as if it’s had hot lead poured into my veins and
it’s
hardening quickly.
 
My stomach sinks.

“I’ve got one more year of IRR service before I hit my ten year limit,” Lake continues.
 
“I got the call yesterday that with all the turmoil going on in the
middle east
, they need experienced sergeants back.”

“For how long?”
I ask through the metal ball that’s suddenly lodged in my throat.

“Just four months,” he says.
 
“I have to report for duty in three weeks.”

Once again, moisture bites the back of my eyes.
 
It threatens to push me over the edge, back to the dark place again.
 

But I just got out of that dark place.
 
And I don’t want to go back.

I look up at Lake.
 
His eyes are regretful and open.
 
He doesn’t want to go.
 
But it’s there.
 
He loves his country, being a soldier is part of who he is.

“Then we’ll just have to make the most out of our three weeks.”
 
I push myself up and my lips meet his.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Right through here is the tack room,” Lake says.
 
I watch him from the back porch as he shows Dale what his duties will be.
 
“Lunge lines go there.
 
You can see where everything else goes.
 
Riley likes things pretty clean, so don’t slack on that.
 
You said you’d worked with horses before?”

“Yes, sir,” Dale says.
 
I can’t see him.
 
He’s too far into the barn.
 
“I grew up in Montana.
 
Most everyone out there knows how to ride.”

“I would guess they do.”
 
Lake smiles.

When we got back from the lake on Tuesday, Lake posted another help wanted ad.
 
We upped the pay, so it wasn’t a complete shock when Dale, a retired police officer from Bothell with no wife or kids, responded to the ad.
 
We both interviewed him.
 
And hired him on the spot.

“So, just keep an eye on Riley, she’ll tell you what horses she needs you to get ready, but sometimes she forgets and gets busy, so just keep an eye on her.”

I chuckle as Lake looks over at me and gives a wink.

“Well, thank you,” Dale says, and I see him shake Lake’s hand.
 
“I appreciate the job, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming in,” Lake says as Dale starts back for his car.
 
He calls a goodbye to me, and I wave to him before he climbs in and leaves.

Lake walks toward me, gravel crunching under his boots.
 
He walks slow and relaxed, and I realize how dead sexy this man is.
 
That lopsided smile, deep eyes with fire in them,
a
body most women dream about.
 
Muscle upon muscle.
 
That quiet strength.
 
And knowing he’s a soldier could damn near kill me.

He stops in front of me, placing a foot between my legs on the bottom steps.

“You’re really, really drop dead sexy, did you know that?” I say as I stand.
 
I gather his tank in my hands and pull him toward me.

“You’re really, really gorgeous, did you know that?” he says as his hands wrap around me, hanging low on my back.

I just smile as I lean forward and press my lips to his.

“I’m not normally down for shrugging off work, but I really like this kind of procrastination,” he says as he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist.
 
He pins my back against the wall, pressing himself into my center.

“Is it procrastination or distraction?” I growl as I bite his lower lip.

“Whatever it is, I like it.”
 
He grinds his hips into mine.

Cursedly, the phone rings inside.

“Ignore that,” I say, pulling him tighter around me.
 
He starts to move away, and I yank him back harder.
 
“I said ignore that!”

“But it might be your new secretary!” he says as he pulls away from the wall, me still wrapped around him.
 
His lips don’t leave mine as he stumbles through the house toward the office.
 
My lips only shift to his neck when he grabs the phone.

“James Ranch,” he says very professionally, despite my tongue, which is tracing his jawline.
 
“Riley James is otherwise occupied at the moment, but I can help you.”

I bite a tiny bit of his skin on his neck.
 
I look up at him.
 
His eyes are closed, his face turned toward the ceiling, and he seems to be having a hard time concentrating on his phone call.

“Uh huh,” he says.
 
I feel him twitch beneath me.
 
“Yeah, that sounds great.
 
When can you come in for an interview?”

My hands slip under his shirt, and I try pulling it off his head, but it doesn’t work well, since he’s holding the phone to his ear.
 
“That sounds
great,
we’ll see you in an hour then.
 
Uh huh.
 
Bye.”

He hangs the phone up and flings it into a chair.
 
He finishes the job of removing his shirt.

“You are a wicked, wicked woman,” he says, pressing me against the wall once again and burying his face in my neck.

“The phone was the one who interrupted us, not the other way around,” I say as a smile curls on my face and my eyes slide closed.
 

“You know, being with you like this is going to make it much, much harder to have to leave in two and a half weeks.”

With that, the heat and passion in my blood dies off.
 
Lake must instantly feel it, because he pulls back, and looks into my eyes.

“You’re going to be safe, aren’t you?” I ask him.
 
Last night I couldn’t sleep.
 
I just kept thinking of Lake, back out in combat.
 
He almost died once, and would have if it hadn’t been for Cal.
 
He could easily do it again.

He continues to study me.
 
He brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear.

“I’m going to do my best,” he says quietly.

“Okay.”

Three days later, I find myself lying in the hammock outside.
 
It’s nearly dark.
 
I went to church this morning.
 
Lake and I had dinner tonight.
 
And now we’re around the fire pit.
 
Lake sits comfortable and stretched out in a lawn chair.

“Why’d you join the Marines?”

We haven’t spoken in a while, each of us simply enjoying the still, warm night.
 
So my words cut through the quiet.

His eyes meet mine and there’s hesitance there.
 

They tell me he’s never actually told anyone the reason why.

I remember Drake telling me that Lake had changed.
 
Over time he got more closed up and darker.
 
He isn’t the same cocky jock he was in high school.

“It’s not a good story, and it doesn’t make me sound like a very good person,” he says simply.

“Not many of us are perfect,” I say.
 
I lie on my side, my head propped up on my hand.
 

Lake’s eyes go back to the fire.
 
I see his gaze pull inward, traveling back to some place in the past.

“I was different in high school,” he confirms.
 
“I was loud and obnoxious.
 
I chased after girls, flirted relentlessly.
 
I was on the football team, and a lot of people liked me.
 
You could say I was popular.”

He doesn’t like telling me this, it’s obvious.
 
But we’ve opened up.
 
We’re showing each other what’s lurking in the deep dark.

“
Me
and my buddies were at this party once.
 
There was a ton of people there.
 
To be honest, I don’t even remember what I said or did, and maybe that’s the worst part, that it meant so little to me that I don’t remember it.
 
But I embarrassed this kid.
 
He was kind of an outsider, the kind to stick to
himself
, but mostly did that because he didn’t know how to be a part of anything.
 
And I did something that embarrassed him.”

Lake clears his throat and leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on his knees.
 
“A little while before the end of the school year, I went into the bathroom before first period.
 
While I was taking a leak, I heard someone come in.
 
Didn’t think much of it until I heard the door lock.”

His eyes are distant and even though it’s dark, I’m pretty sure his skin has paled.
 
“I turned around to see that kid.
 
Derek
Sleven, that
was his name.
 
He’d locked the two of us in there.
 
He was crying, but he was mad.
 
Started going off on me, and ten seconds later, he pulls out a gun.
 
Points it right in my face.”

I do a sharp intake of breath, my brows pulling together.
 
“This was at the school?”

Lake nods, even though he doesn’t look up.
 
“He started yelling that it was because of assholes like me that guys like him kill people.
 
That we don’t think anything about anyone other than ourselves.
 
He said he was tired of being treated like dirt.”

“What did you do?” I ask.
 
My heart hammers in my throat as I try to imagine such a terrifying image.
 
I think back, trying to recall any gun incidences at Woodinville High School nine years ago.
 
Our towns are so close.
 
I would have heard about it.

It takes Lake a minute to respond.
 
He just keeps staring into the fire, and I know I’m getting a glimpse at one of the demons that clings to Lake’s back.

“Like I said, I was on the football team, and I was good and fast.
 
It was pretty easy to tell he didn’t know what he was doing with that gun.
 
So I rushed him.
 
Grabbed the gun right from his hands, pinned him down.”

Lake rubs two fingers across his lips.
 
“And then I made the most profound apology of my life.
 
I hadn’t meant to wreck this guy’s life over something that I don’t even remember saying or doing.
 
I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.
 
But I did.
 
And I was truly sorry for it.”

“What happened to Derek?” I ask.

“I took the gun with me, left school right then, and told the police what happened,” he says as he looks down at the dirt at his feet.
 
“I didn’t want to rat him out for something that was my fault, but I knew Derek was dangerous.
 
It’s one thing when you punch someone to settle a score, maybe slash their tires or something.
 
It’s another when you bring a
gun
to a
school
.”

“They arrested him?” I say.

Lake nods.
 
“They kept it quiet.
 
Never released anything at the school, never told my brother or Kaylee.
 
My parents knew.
 
But no one else did.
 
They just hired another security guard and started watching everyone close.”

It’s quiet between us for a while.
 
This is heavy and dark, and absolutely one of those situations that changes who you are as a person for the rest of your life.

“That’s why you joined.”

Lake nods.
 
He sits back in his chair again, stretching his leg out once more.
 
“I realized that I
was
selfish and I
did
only think about myself most of the time.
 
And that I didn’t want to hurt anyone.
 
Everyone has value.”

He looks over at me, finally meeting my eyes.
 
They aren’t haunted, but they are serious and educated in the way of a hard lesson learned.
 
“I wanted to prove to myself that I’m not a bad guy.”

I climb out of the hammock and skirt the fire pit to join him.
 
I sit on his lap, wrapping my arms behind his neck and rest my cheek against his.
 
“You’re not a bad guy.”