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"But not this time of year," Rapid says matter-of-factly. "We wouldn't have camped in his turf when he needs it."
"No worries," Rapid turns to tell me, "the 'Squatches live on a migratory path, it's not the season for them up here right now."
"I'm just going to leave it alone that you're talking about Sasquatch as casually as you would deer or raccoons." I've heard more than one resident of Moonshine Ridge talk about the local "skunk ape" population like they're real. I'm not one to dismiss the possibility, but I have a feeling that Moonshine Ridge enjoys its reputation for being home to one of the most active populations of the elusive-- and probably mythical-- beasts.
* * *
"Crashed," I tell Rapid with a smile as I return from Jackson's suddenly all-too-quiet bedroom where he disappeared shortly after dinner.
"A couple days on the river will do that to you." He grins and helps me clean up from dinner.
"You don't seem any worse for wear," I point out, stacking dishes in the sink and running the hot water.
"I've been paddling since I was big enough to sit in grandpa Don's lap in the canoe."
"Oh no," I say, quickly stopping him from filling the dishwasher, "it's not working."
The zing of electricity that shoots through me when my hand lands on his bulging bicep makes me stumble slightly. How can those muscles be so huge when he's not even flexing?
That crease between Rapid's eyebrows deepens, the corners of his lips down-turned as he looks at me.
"Isn't that the clinic's responsibility? They're the ones who provide your housing, right?"
I shrug as I wash the dishes by hand, Rapid easily falling into the routine beside me to rinse and dry them.
"I put in a call for maintenance, but it's not considered a priority. You know how hard it is to get people up to the ridge," I explain as we work side by side.
Rapid has the sleeves of his flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows, putting muscled forearms on display while he helps with the dishes. The sight has me giddy, my mind racing with filthy thoughts of what those strong hands could do to me. I'm way too old to be swooning like a love-struck teenager over the sight of a man's forearms, for fuck’s sake!
Still, this man makes me feel things I've never felt before. I thought chemistry like this only existed in movies and books. I just wish he felt it too.
"I have some wine left over from the weekend," I tell him, feeling shy about the memories of how I spent my weekend thinking about him. "Care to help me finish it off?
* * *
Rapid
The chains on the porch swing creak softly as I rock us gently. It's been hung high and Sage's feet don't even touch the ground, but my boots rest flat on the paving stones beneath the swing.
"So, whatever happened to your friend?" Sage asks, settling onto the bench beside me close enough I can feel her beside me. "The guy with the broken nose-- Hayle?"
"No clue." I shrug and sip at the red wine she poured for us. "He disappeared right after that. His folks say he put most of his stuff in storage in their garage and even they haven't heard much from him."
"You've mentioned he was trouble," she says, her arm brushing mine when she lifts her glass to her lips. The gentle contact sends sparks flying through me and I'm glad for the low light from the solar lanterns out here and the untucked shirt-tails of my flannel that help hide her effect on me.
"You don't seem like the kind of man who would put up with a guy like that," she says after another sip of wine, "how'd you end up friends with him?"
"The ridge is small," I tell her. "Our grandparents were close so our parents are kinda close. I grew up with the Hart kids; but Hayle and I didn't get to be tight till after his dad died. I guess, we're both the oldest in our family's and I could see how the pressure to grow up before he was ready was affecting him. He needed a friend."
Sage nods beside me and I fight the urge to turn toward her. I want to see her face, watch her thoughts show in her expression, but I know if I face her while we're sitting so close like this, it'll be too easy to press my lips to hers.
"So--" I clear my throat and shift slightly, trying to adjust my hard-as-a-rock dick behind my zipper without being obvious. "Jax says his dad's going to come pick him up and take him to the coast next week."
Sage makes a noise that sounds like my grandmother when she digs up a carrot that the rabbits have gotten to from underground.
"Yeah, Jackson's never been to the ocean so Arnold promised he'd take him."
"That's nice," I say, impressed. From what I gathered; Sage's ex hasn't been much for keeping up with his visitation plans.
