And he laughed. It started slowly, from low in his chest, then erupted into a full-bodied guffaw, his face split into a brilliant smile.
“It’s not funny,” she sputtered. “I’m—I’m soaked!” In a panic, she started wiping the sodden pages on her equally damp shirt.
“I think that’s a lost cause,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’m still going to try,” she retorted with a low cry as the pages disintegrated under her touch.
“Fern.” She looked up at his stern voice to see Alex crouched low in the water.
She tilted her head. “What are you—”
He waved his hand against the water, sending a splash directly into her face. She dropped her jaw and gasped in horror as rivulets fell from her nose and chin. When the water cleared from her eyes she saw Alex, a playful smirk on his lips.
“You! Why would you—”
“You’re upset with yourself, and you haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “You need to smile and forgive yourself. Besides, this outing seems to be a wash.” He slapped his palm against the water, sending another wave her way. “Literally. We might as well enjoy it.”
Jaw dropped, Fern stared at Alex aghast. “Are youplaying,Alexander Carroway?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I am. You must bring out my childish side.”
Fern scowled and began to turn away, then spun as she dragged her arm through the water.Splash!
“There is nothing childish about this,” she huffed. “My book”—splash—“is ruined!”Splash!
Alex mimicked her sputtering expression of surprise for only a moment before he returned the splash.
Fern anticipated his response and ducked out of the way, leaping to the side to return the assault.
Soon they were both lost to their amusement, gasping through laughter until they realized the punt was drifting away. Giggling, Alex grabbed Fern’s hand as they pushed their way through the water to retrieve it.
Alex grabbed the side of the boat, then used his other arm to hoist Fern up. His strength took her aback, noting how the muscles in his chest stretched under his damp shirt as he lifted her, how the swell of his arms shifted as she gripped his biceps for support. Her body ran along the length of his as he lifted her, her skin burning where he touched her, the contrast of the cold fabric against her flaming skin making her shiver.
She was breathless when he placed her on the bow, her hands still gripping his forearms for support. His gaze dropped, lingering over her dress where the fabric clung to her body, then diverted his gaze. “We should get your boat,” Alex said, his voice like gravel.
Suddenly sobered, Fern ducked her head, rounding her shoulders. Alex watched her, brows furrowed for a moment, before grabbing the rope leading to her row boat. Alex tied her boat to the back of the punt before pushing himself easily back onto the craft. Withdrawing his jacket from beside the picnic basket, still safe and dry, he draped it around Fern’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting his eyes. He gave a meek smile in return but said nothing.
Their return to the nearest boathouse was uneventful, and Alex helped Fern from the punt, ignoring the smirks of the dockhands as they walked back along the path toward Christ College.
“So…you weren’t kidding when you said you were terrible at punting,” Alex said with a gentle smile.
Fern couldn’t help the laugh escaping her. How simple it was for him to put her at ease. “You don’t seem to be an expert at it either.”
“I need to practice a bit,” he said, puffing his chest out. “Then I’ll be the best out there.”
She watched him carefully, the graceful curve of his lips, the slope of his nose, the sparkling eyes framed by thick lashes. “You’re joking.”
“I am,” he replied, dipping his head. “But I should practice again if I want to improve.”
“You don’t like being bad at something, do you?”
He chuckled. “Oh, there are plenty of things I’m not good at.” Fern raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue. “My grandmother attempted to teach me to knit, that was a disaster. And as much as I love it, I could never write poetry.”
“There are worse faults to have.”Trust me, I know.
He shrugged and dropped his head. His voice was low, almost shy when he spoke. “I’m not terribly good at fitting in.”
