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He sucks in a long breath, and then blows it out slowly. “And if you want me to be honest, my face probably turned a little red because all I’ve thought about all day long is how nice it’ll be when I get to sleep in your bed for real, not because you need me in it, but when you want me in it. That’ll be one of the best days of my life. Because ever since this morning, when I woke up with your ass pressed against me, all I can think about is how it’s going to feel when I finally get to fuck you.” He points to his face. “If my face turned red again just now, that’s why.”
I must jerk or something because he suddenly rushes to reassure me. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought we were being honest. Should I have said ‘make love’? That might have been more romantic.” He scratches his head. “I probably just totally fucked that up.” Worry mars his brow, and if I wasn’t so weak and so tired, I’d reach out to rub it away. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done any of this. I might be out of practice. Forgive me?”
I lay my hand on his leg. “No, it’s fine. Fuck is a fine word. It really is. And if I felt better, I’d totally lift this blanket up and invite you in here with me and we could do it all day long.”
He grins. “I like the way you think.”
“But I’m sick.” I have to remind myself as much as him.
“You’re sick.”
“I’m going to put in a job application at the clinic we went to today.”
He tilts his head as he gazes at me, the corners of his lips tipping up into a smile. “Really?”
“Really. I’m still in like with you, even though I feel
like shit.” I squeeze his knee again. “Did I say thanks for taking care of me yet?” I yawn at the end of the sentence, suddenly so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
“No need,” he says. He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering over me a beat longer than I’d expected. “I’ll be back after I finish what Mr. Jacobson asked me to do. Apparently, there’s a chance of a late-season hurricane next week, so he asked me to take the canoes out of the water and put them in the storage building. And the little sailboats too.”
“A hurricane?” I ask. “I haven’t heard anything about it.”
He shrugs. “Me either. But if Mr. Jacobson is worried about it, I suppose I had better get to work. I’m supposed to go help him and Jake, which really means they’ll yell insults at one another while I work.” He gets up and stares down at me. “Can I get you anything before I go?”
“Just give me a promise,” I reply.
“What’s that?”
“Promise me you’ll come back.”
He grins. “I swear it.” Then he leaves me lying there, my eyes already closing from exhaustion, and the last thing I hear is the sound of the front door closing behind him.
25
Ethan
The sun has just begun to set when I put the last kayak on the upper racks of the storage building. I step back and look around, wondering what else there is here that I need to do. I’ve taken apart all the sailboats, rolling up the sails and putting them in a place where they’ll be safe. I’ve retrieved all the kayaks and canoes from the water. I’ve taken the two small motorized boats, one ski boat and one fishing boat, out of the water using my truck and two boat trailers I found behind the shed. And I’ve battened down all the hatches I can find. I don’t think I’ve missed anything, at least not anything the Jacobsons put on my to-do list.
Jake and Pop were working with me for a while, but they got to bickering as usual. When Katie called to tell them that dinner was ready, that it was time to call it a day, they’d invited me to come and eat with them. But I really want to eat with Abigail tonight. She did promise to play UNO with me. She used to be a shark at UNO, and she won almost every game. Now I’m not sure that I even remember how to play, but I’m sure I can google it.
As I step out of the storage building, I find Pop Jacobson walking toward me. “You finished?” he asks. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a toothpick and pops it into his mouth.
“I think so.” I list all the things I finished. “Do you need me to do anything else today?” I wait, watching him as he looks around the shed.
“I heard tell that you took that Marshall girl to the doctor this morning.”
“Yes, sir. She’s sick.”
He narrows his eyes. “Thought I told you to stay away from her.”
I nod. “You did.”
He stares at me hard. It’s not a glare, but it’s more than a stare. “Why didn’t you listen?”
Because I’m a grown man and I can make my own choices. “Mainly because I like her, Mr. Jacobson. I like her a lot.” I’ve always liked her, even back when we were kids.
He walks over and plays around with the straps I used to hold the kayaks in place, tightening and loosening them, even though they don’t need tightening or loosening.
