Jumped (8 page)

“Yes?” she said. He looked awfully good in his aviator sunglasses, stubble framing his lips and the stupid sun turning his tousled hair all golden-y in spots.

“Did you reapply?”

“That's between me and my dermatologist.”

He
tsk
ed. “There's no such thing as a healthy tan, Bethany.”

“Says the man with a tan.”
You putting sunscreen on me was more dangerous than any tan.
“I'm fine,” she said, then delivered a retaliatory bump.

He grinned again, and dug his paddle into the water so that the bow of his kayak hit her broadside.

“Hey!” she said, because her little boat rocked considerably. She splashed him with her paddle, which was more satisfying than she could have imagined.

“That was dirty,” he said, his straight, strong teeth showing in a slight smile. Water droplets sparkled in his hair.

“You tried to capsize me.”

“It was a tap!”

She lowered her voice so that only he could hear. “Isn't there someone else you'd like to tap?” She glanced at Kristen, who was having an animated conversation with Mike about twenty yards away.

“Mike? He's a great guy, but not my type. Too much hair on his face.”

“You know who I mean. Did you even notice she has a face?”

“We had a nice chat. I made and maintained eye contact. And, hey, it's not my fault she's wearing what she's wearing.”

“Or not wearing.”

“It's not ski season. What's she supposed to have on, a parka?” He tapped the back of her kayak.

“Stop running into me.”

He said, in a low tone meant solely for her, “If memory serves, you like it from behind.”

She should have expected the conversation to turn salty. “Finn!” She maneuvered her kayak to face him and whispered, “You should be ashamed of yourself. There are children on this lake.” Her next words escaped from her mouth like unsupervised toddlers. “But I bet you're dying to find out if
she'd
like it.”

Finn was staring at her, then snorted. “I can't believe it. You're jealous.” He grinned hard.

Blerg! She
was
transparent. It bugged her to no end that she lacked the Hide Your Feelings gene. She had to attempt a defense. “Not in the least. Disappointed in you, maybe. But that's all.”

“No, you're jealous,” he said in an annoying singsong voice. He was taunting her. “You're still sweet on me.”

“You're so full of yourself.”

“Like that lady at our table said—the one who would've cut Grady's meat for him? Love is in the air this weekend, and you are a victim.”

“I am not a victim.”

“Come on, Bethany,” he said, as though she were a scared rabbit he was coaxing into a snare. “It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Finn. Shut up, or I'll tip you.”

“Four little words. ‘I still love you.' You can do it.”

“Here are four words: You are incredibly annoying.”

“And you're very cute when you're in denial.”

“I mean it. I'll tip you.” She put an extra dose of menace in her voice.

“You are all talk.”

“I'll do it.”

“You and what armada?”

Beth saw her escape from admitting jealousy.
Escalation
. She stared him down. “I dare you.”

“Bethany.”

“I dare you.”

“Don't do this.”

“I dare you to tip me. Come on.” She clucked like a chicken.

“Don't say I didn't warn you,” he said, but didn't move.

She slammed her paddle into the water, drenching him.

“That's it!” He rammed her kayak broadside, but not hard enough to capsize her. Nothing would have happened if it weren't for an ill-timed passing motorboat. The wake and Finn combined to flip her kayak and toss her into the water.

“Crap on a cracker!” she sputtered, both from water in her mouth and the plunge into the cold. She pushed her sodden hair out of her face and coughed several times. She stroked over to her kayak, grabbed on, and started kicking toward the bank.

“You brought this on yourself and you know it.” Finn piloted his kayak close to her. “Grab on.”

“Go to hell.”

“You begged me to dump you!”

His last two words hovered over the surface of the water like ironic, sad dragonflies. Beth stilled and stared at him.

“Sorry,” he said and sounded sincere. “Bad word choice. Here.” He slid into the water. “Now we're even.”

“Hardly.” She resumed her slow journey away from him, but he easily caught up.

“Damn but this water's cold,” he said. “You should've thought of that before you provoked me.”

“I should've thought of your complete lack of chivalry.”

“I did exactly what you asked! How is that unchivalrous?”

“You should've known I was kidding.”

“You asked ten times!”

“You shouldn't have taken me seriously.”

“Hold on.” They were about twenty feet from the boat ramp. He reached out and grabbed her arm. Neither of them moved, they were just facing each other, each with one arm draped over a kayak.

“What?” she asked.

My, but he looked good wet. Unfortunately. He didn't have his sunglasses on anymore. He was staring at her. He swallowed and she watched his Adam's apple rise and fall.

“What?” she repeated.

He leaned in and spoke quietly, obviously aware of how sound traveled across water. “I didn't mean to tip you. I didn't hit you hard enough, but combined with the wake from that boat . . . So I'm sorry. And I take you seriously. And what happened with us—I was always sweet on
you
.” He squeezed her arm with his warm hand. “What I mean is, I . . . I always loved you.” He let go of her arm and shoved his hair off his forehead. He studied the shore for a moment before turning back to her. “Hell. I still do. I . . . Christ, I don't know what possessed me to tell you this, but this is probably the last time we'll ever see each other, and I wanted you to know. That's all.”

Beth's mind went as numb as her skin as it tried to process this. He still loved her. She felt like she should say something, but not one word came to mind. Should she admit her jealousy? Should she say that sometimes she thought she still loved him? How she sometimes thought about their derailed marriage, the sparkling beginning to what was supposed to be their deliriously happy life together? But she'd push the thoughts aside because they overwhelmed her. She didn't know if she still loved Finn. She didn't know much of anything anymore. So she simply stared back.

Several centuries later, she heard Finn say, “So how 'bout we stop arguing for the rest of our time here?”

Beth nodded and started to shiver.

Melissa paddled over. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Finn said, “We're fine. Bethany found Nemo. Wanted a closer look.”

Melissa laughed. “You're not trying to drown each other, are you? Because if I didn't know better, I'd think you two were still married.”

Beth shook from cold
as she pushed her kayak through the water and onto the boat ramp. She dragged it up and out of the reservoir, then off to the side to make room for the others. She had to get a grip. Feelings she'd thought were long gone were popping up all over the place, like a Freudian game of Whac-A-Mole. And she was losing.

Come on, Beth! This is like a jumper class. You've had too many fences down to be in the ribbons, so use it as a learning experience. Get through the timers. After tonight, you won't see Finn again.

Plans changed. Instead
of
dining at a restaurant, the wedding posse would have a casual dinner at Aspen Creek. Melissa made the announcement on the bus back to the kayak rental place after texting with Amanda. Finn was stoked because he could see the mountain home again and take mental notes on features that he could use in his proposal for the Frederick project. He was further stoked because he would be in Bethany's temporary house for their last evening together. One last, sweet evening with Bethany. And a dozen other people. Hell, he'd take what he could get.

Bethany didn't sit with him on the bus. Once at the kayaking school, Melissa and Nick gave her a ride to her truck, which she'd parked near the diner. Finn watched her black pickup pull away from the curb, then returned to the Jerome to shower and change.

Finn wanted to observe Aspen Creek in casual mode. He wanted to see where people gathered and how they flowed through the living space. He wanted a second look at the details that gave the house its character and adapt the best of them for his proposal to Frederick Associates.

This is what he told himself. It was research.

Yeah, right.

His detailed exploration
of the architectural wonder that was Aspen Creek would have to wait. As soon as all the guests had arrived and secured some adult beverages on the patio, a football appeared. Amanda, knowing where this was headed, started to usher everyone off the patio and away from the various breakables, such as flower arrangements on the tables.

“She's such a wet blanket,” a smiling Bethany said to Finn as she and her margarita passed him en route to the yard. It was the first she'd spoken to him since he'd arrived. He decided to let her come to him when she was ready. After lobbing that grenade in the reservoir, he wasn't sure where they stood.

“I'll say.” He followed her down the stone steps.

Kristen caught up with him, much to his dismay. “Finn!”

“Hi, Kristen.”

“Are you gonna play football?” Again, she made it sound so pornographic, and not in a good way. Which was saying something.

“Seems to be the thing to do.”

“I'll be cheering for you.” She grabbed his head and kissed his cheek.

Just then, the football flew inches above their heads, instantly squelching the smooch. Exquisite timing.

Within minutes the group became two teams. Everyone clambered through the white fence into the pasture to begin the game, with Harris as referee. Screams and laughter filled the warm air, and long shadows rippled across the green of the irrigated pasture. It was, Finn thought, like one of those beer commercials, with a slew of beautiful people playing a pick-up game in a beautiful setting.

Turned out the wedding guests loved their football, or they were suitably inebriated to believe they loved it. Harris as ref was reason enough to keep playing, because he penalized players for infractions such as Margarita Spilling and Unattractive Grimacing. Forty-five minutes later, Finn's team was behind, but he had a plan. He would go long. He was still sober, so he could outmaneuver the happy, wobbly defense. Besides, he wanted to end the game so he could talk to Bethany. And he was hungry.
Isn't anyone else hungry?

The play began. Finn was in the clear. He ran hard—otherwise, what was the point?—and turned back, looking for the ball. There it was. A decent spiral from Nick, arrowing right for him. Perfect.