Page 123 of Whispers and Wildfire
“Come on, beautiful. You’ll feel better once you’re in.”
She took a tiny step.
“You big baby.”
Pushing my body through the water, I marched up the bank, dripping wet, and picked her up. She shrieked for me to put her down, but there was laughter behind it. I walked her into the deeper water and paused.
“Ready?”
“No!”
She kept one arm around my shoulders and plugged her nose. Bending my knees, I dunked us both, then came up. She gasped as we broke the surface.
“So cold!”
I let go of her legs so she could stand. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She wiped her face. “Only because it’s probably a hundred degrees out here.”
“Exactly.”
We swam around a bit, enjoying the water, but staying close to the shore. Surrounded by mountains, with the bluesky stretched above us, the lake felt secluded, like the cares of the world couldn’t reach us.
After a while, we moved into waist-deep water to let the sun warm us.
She traced her fingers across my ribs. “It’s still so bruised.”
“It looks worse than it feels.”
“That’s good at least.” She paused. “Do you think you’ll race again?”
“No.” I was surprised at how easily the answer came. But it was true. “I’d say the wreck knocked some sense into me, but it’s more than that. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Why did you need it before?”
I hesitated, considering. “It was like the only time I felt alive was when I was driving fast. I was always chasing something—chasing the high, I guess—only to crash soon after. Being with you is like that, only without the crash. And without the likelihood of dying. Although you do have a mean right hook, so I won’t let my guard down too much.”
“Being with me is like driving a race car?”
I pulled her against me. “Being with you is being alive. Whatever I was chasing, it wasn’t what I needed. You are.”
Our lips met in a soft kiss, and she wound her arms around my neck.
“I only raced that night because I was mad at you,” I said, my mouth turning up in a grin.
“Mad at me for what? Oh. Never mind. That was the night we ran into each other at the restaurant, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
“That’s okay. I was mad at you too.”
I touched my forehead to hers while the water lapped around our waists. “I hated seeing you with someone else. So much.”
“I hated it too. She seemed really nice, which made it so much worse.”
“She might have been nice, but she wasn’t you. No one is.”
“And the rest of the world is relieved about that. What would life be like if there were two of me?”
