NINETEEN

From sunshine to moonlight goddess.

Roar

“I’m sorry if I get in your way,” Matt says, casting his line in the water.

The sun is dropping and traffic on the lake is dying down at this time of night. Ace is in his usual spot in the bow of the boat, his head hanging over the side, looking for fish. At Leelo’s urging, we left her with the cleanup after the third dinner in a row I showed up for. She’s a good cook, much better than I am. So why would I mess up my kitchen when I can get a good meal five minutes down the road? Besides, it gives me a chance to see her, since the weekends are generally busy for me at the lodge.

No sleepovers though. Not last night and probably not tonight either. It would be a bit awkward bumping into her son in the middle of the night. The logistics may be a bit of a challenge, but I’m sure we’ll find ways to make it work. In the meantime, having Matt there during the nights, makes me sleep a fuck load better in my own bed.

“You don’t, I’m actually glad you’re here,” I admit. “Not sure if your mom’s had a chance to fill you in, but it looks like someone enjoys messing with her.”

Credit to the kid, his eyes immediately flare as he looks up.

“Messing with her, how?”

Tension radiates off him as I remind him of the bear incident before filling him in on what’s happened since.

“That sleezy dude in the Italian loafers? The one she ripped a strip off?”

“As I recall it, she ripped a pretty good-sized strip off all of us, but yes, that’s the guy.”

“So why isn’t he under arrest or something?” Matt demands to know.

“First of all, we may believe it’s him, but no one actually saw him do anything, and there’s no real evidence. Secondly, what he did constitutes vandalism at most, not generally something they lock you up and throw away the key for,” I explain, understanding the kid’s frustration.

I feel it, too. Kyle Thompson worries me. It’s not normal for a grown-assed man to resort to those kinds of vindictive antics unless he’s unbalanced to begin with. That’s something I’ve come to learn about Kyle, he’s got a mean streak a mile wide, and when he doesn’t get what he wants, there’s no telling how far he’ll take things. Which is why I feel better knowing Matt is around.

“We should probably head back,” Matt says, looking over my shoulder in the general direction of the motel.

“Sure thing.”

“And for the record,” he adds, pulling in his line as I start up the motor. “Appreciate you looking out for Mom.”

I bite down a smile. “Not a problem.”

“I gathered that,” I hear him mumble under his breath and this time I don’t hold back, I throw my head back and bark out a laugh. I like the kid.

Leelo

“Tomorrow night, I cook.”

I look up from the rock I’ve been trying to move, unsuccessfully I might add.

“Fish fry,” Roar offers.

“What’s in a fish fry?” Matt wants to know, walking up with the wheelbarrow.

“Fish.”

“Cool.”

“Actually,” I clarify, in hopes to lift the dialogue from the monosyllabic exchange I’ve been listening to most of the afternoon. “Technically there’s a bit more than just fish in Roar’s fish fry. He dips the fish in beer batter before he fries it.”

“What’s in beer batter?”

“Beer,” Roar grunts.

“Cool.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake!” Ready to pull my hair out, I toss down the shovel and take off toward the house. I have a large bottle of wine in the fridge.

It’s boiling hot out here, my SPF 50 is sluicing off my body, leaving me exposed to the scorching sun, and I don’t burn pretty—think lobster. I’m sweating like a goddamn faucet and I’m sick and tired of the less than stimulating conversation. Men. They either barely take a breath when yelling at you—like David’s done twice more since Friday night; before I decided to ignore his subsequent calls—or they can barely string two words together.

It’s possible I may also be more than a little frustrated that in the past four days since Matt showed up, I’ve barely managed to catch a moment alone with Roar. He doesn’t seem to mind, spending more time with Matt than with me.

“Was it something I said?” I hear Roar ask Matt, as Ace follows behind me, hoping for food, no doubt.

“Nah, Gwen says it’s menopause. Mood swings worse than PMS, apparently.”

I swear if ever there was an excuse for filicide, surely this is it. Instead I throw my head back and scream at the sky.

Fuck the wine—this is a scotch kind of day.

-

“Is everything all right?”

I’m sitting on a kitchen chair in front of the window unit, sipping my second glass of scotch, promising myself that if there is any way I can work it in my budget, I’m installing central air, when Roar walks in.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, lying as I usually do when giving that answer. Ace barely lifts his head from where he’s lying at my feet, he doesn’t like the heat either.

I’m not fine. I appear to be stuck in the mother of all hot flashes, near tears, and will surely lose that battle with the next kind word. I try to ignore the sounds of Roar rummaging around the kitchen behind me, until something blissfully cold is pressed against the back of my neck.

“My God, what is that?”

“Peaches and cream corn, I think. Just grabbed the first bag from the freezer and wrapped it in a towel.”

Frozen corn, I never thought it was worth crying over until now.

“Are you crying?” I can vaguely make him out through blurred eyes as he crouches down to look at me. “Sunshine?”

“You h-had to go and b-be nice, didn’t you?” I accuse, feeling him laugh as he pulls my head forward to rest on his shoulder. “I’m a puddle.”

“I’ve noticed,” he deadpans, as his big hand presses the cold compress firmer to my skin.

After sitting quietly like that for a bit, I can feel my body cooling down. In hindsight, my grab for the scotch may not have been such a brilliant idea; I really didn’t need the added flush of alcohol. I’m feeling better now, though, and I gingerly lift my face from where I’ve left a giant damp spot on Roar’s shirt.

“How did you know to do that?”

He shrugs his shoulders and with his free hand brushes a strand of hair that is stuck to my face. “Charlie,” he says. “I remember her walking around with bags of frozen peas draped around her neck. Thought it might help.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, suddenly embarrassed. I’d carried on like a lunatic. “I’ve been a bear.”

I’ve barely finished my sentence when his lips are brushing mine.

“Hush,” he rumbles. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

Yes. Yes it has. All of a sudden something occurs to me and I sit back to look at him.

“Is that why you’ve been keeping your distance?”

“You had a lot going on, thought I’d give you some space.”

“Well, you can stop that now,” I suggest a tad snippily.

“So noted.” He smirks, not in the least impressed with my foul mood. It almost has me in tears again.

“It’d be nice to have one man in my life who’s not grunting or yelling at me.”

I can feel the air chill around me as Roar goes completely still, the smile gone and his eyes narrowed.

“Who’s yelling?”

“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, putting what I hope is a calming hand on his arm. Last thing I need is David to have another reason to be pissed at me, and that is exactly what will happen if Roar gets involved.

“Who the fuck is yelling?” he repeats forcefully, and the dog lifts his head, ears perked up.

“Dad,” Matt says, walking in the door. “He’s been calling me since you stopped answering your phone.” He looks at me, shrugging his shoulders like it’s all the same to him.

It’s not. I know my boy better than that. He hates confrontation, always has.

“I’m sorry,” I offer, but Matt sharply shakes his head.

“Don’t. Don’t take responsibility for this—for him. You’ve done enough of that.”

“You going to start crying again?” Roar asks, a hand curled under my chin when my eyes fill at Matt’s words.

“Nope,” I answer, blinking my eyes furiously and breathing deeply.

“He calls again, I wanna talk to him.”

“Oh no, no, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I sputter, noticing the grim set of his mouth.

“He wants to talk to you, he does so respectfully or he deals with me. No room for negotiation on that.”

I’m about to protest, when I spot Matt hiding a smile behind his hand, and promptly close my mouth.

Roar

I make sure Charlie is buckled in before I get behind the wheel.

There was a time this would be a weekly occurrence, but I can’t get her to come up to the lodge often anymore. First she’d still drive out on her own, before she had a close encounter with a moose one night, but even after that, I’d swing by to fetch her almost weekly for a fish fry. She hasn’t been out here yet this season, but when I told her Leelo and her son would be there for dinner, she was game.

“How’s the motel coming along?” she asks, as I pull onto the road.

“Good. She’s pretty busy. The rooms are all done and she’s mostly converted the bar to a dining room. Food is good too. You should come try it ”

“Would love to,” Charlie smiles before turning her gaze out the window.

She seems a bit distracted. More than usual and I’m worried about her. Eighty-one years old, and there was a time I thought for sure she’d live forever. She’s by far the strongest person I know, but lately she’s been withdrawing a little. When I asked her the other day about Bob Duran, she didn’t even remember he’d been her date at the music festival a few weeks ago.

I should make more of an effort to get her out of her apartment.

“What’s that?”

She points out the window when we pass the motel.

“Bobcat,” I answer. They must’ve dropped it off this afternoon.

We’d done as much clearing as we could by hand yesterday, but we needed that piece of machinery to level the trail properly. Leelo’s already ordered a precast slab to be delivered the end of this week, so in order for the truck to be able to get to the water, we need that trail done.

“She’s installing a boat launch,” I clarify when Charlie looks at me confused. “That thing can clear rocks and tree stumps we can’t do by hand.”

“You’ve been helping out then?”

“When I can,” I concede.

“Do you think she’ll hack it up here?”

Charlie’s question surprises me and I turn to find her looking at me intently.

“I think so. She’s tough, and she seems to love it here.”

“Good. That’s good.” Charlie leans her head back in her seat and closes her eyes.

Not entirely sure what that was all about, but I decide to leave it alone and let her have her catnap.

-

“So tell me about your plans?”

Matt, who just walks up with a few fresh beers from the office fridge, is pinned by Charlie’s question. His eyes flit over to his mother before turning back to Charlie.

The remnants of dinner are burning up in the fire pit, and we’re all sitting back, enjoying the substantially cooler night.

“They’re still developing,” he says carefully. “I’d love to make a life here. Build a business, and eventually a house, if I find the right piece of property.”

“Sounds like plans to me. I’m sure your mother won’t mind having you underfoot in the meantime.”

I hear Leelo’s barely suppressed snort and have a hard time keeping a straight face myself. Although Charlie appears oblivious, Matt isn’t and chuckles out loud.

“Maybe in small doses, but I have a feeling Mom may have a newfound appreciation for her empty nest. Ouch,” he says in the next breath, ducking to avoid a bottle cap Leelo deftly twists off her beer and aims at his head.

“I imagine she does,” Charlie mumbles, not half as clueless as I thought she’d be, before continuing a little louder. “I’m getting a little tired. Would you mind terribly driving me home?” I’m ready to get up but her eyes are firmly fixed on Matt.

“Sure,” he agrees before I have a chance to jump in. “Be happy to drive you home.”

“Excellent.” My meddling mother is virtually rubbing her hands together as she gets up from her chair. “Gives me a chance to pick your brain about a few repairs I’d like done to my cabin across the lake.”

“Wait,” Leelo jumps up as well. “Let me just grab my purse. Matt can just throw me out at home.”

“Nonsense,” Charlie says resolutely. “I’m sure Riordan can drive you home at some point.”

Effectively manipulated by an octogenarian and a man-child, Leelo and I watch as Matt’s taillights disappear down the road.

“You said nothing!” She swings around, punching me in the arm.

“Fuck no. Not gonna hear me complain.” I pull her against me and wrap her in my arms.

“Jesus, Roar...your mother and my kid...this is embarrassing,” she mumbles into my shirt.

“Just so you know, your son doesn’t begrudge you this.”

“How would you know?” she asks, tilting her head back.

“Because he told me in so many words. As for Charlie, I’m guessing she likes the idea of us.” I let go of her, grab her hand, and snag my bottle from the picnic table. “Now grab your beer and come with me.”

The night is quiet and the only ripples on the water are those made by my boat and the odd fish. I’m heading north to a quiet inlet, a ways up the lake, where I often go in the early morning hours because it has the best bass fishing. The heat has killed off a lot of the bugs, so it’s a perfect night to do some stargazing. Especially up here, where there is no light pollution.

A lot of the land on the north side of the lake is only accessible by boat, and it’s easy to imagine we’ve left civilization behind.

I glance over at Leelo, who is leaning back in the captain’s chair, her eyes fixed on the sky and a ghost of a smile on her lips. The quarter moon paints her face a pale blue, making her look almost ethereal.

When I turn off the engine, she lazily rolls her head in my direction.

“Where are we?”

“My favourite place.” Her smile gets wider as she redirects her gaze back up at the stars.

“Come here,” I invite her, climbing on the bow of the boat, deep enough for me to stretch out, with my back propped against the windshield. I grab her outstretched hand and help her settle in beside me.

“This is perfect.” Leelo’s voice is soft, almost reverent.

I love that.

I love that she seems to feel the kind of awe that sometimes comes over me when I’m out here. A humble appreciation that someone of my insignificance gets to be witness to a beauty this grand.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she says, sitting up and twisting her body to lean in, brushing my lips with hers. Soft at first, tentative, until she deepens the kiss, and my cock instantly hardens in response.

Next thing I know, she is straddling me, her cut-offs tossed somewhere behind me in the boat. My shirt is off and twisted around my arms, keeping them trapped above my head.

“Stay still,” she whispers against my lips, as her hands make fast work of the buttons of my shorts, eliminating the last barrier between her heat and my dick.

It’s hard, holding still, not touching her, and allowing her to set the pace. I want to touch.

“Uh-uh, use your other senses,” she suggests when I shift, raining kisses on my face, my neck and down my chest. “Let me make you feel.”

I feel all right. The moment her eager hands release my cock and her lips close over the crown, my hips involuntarily surge up from the deck.

“Mmmmm,” she hums, only enhancing the sensation and it’s all I can do to keep from tangling my fingers in that blue hair. She’s not in a hurry, leisurely exploring me with her mouth and tongue until she has me panting like a racehorse.

“Please.” I don’t think I’ve ever begged before. “Fuck, Sunshine—you’re killing me.”

The soft peal of her laughter bounces over the water when she releases my cock. Straightening, she reaches up, untangles my arms from the shirt, and places my hands on her hips. She holds on to my shoulder with one hand and with the other guides me inside her.

“Get naked,” I growl when she’s fully seated, helping her get rid of her shirt and bra, before leaning back and taking in the view.

She’s fucking gorgeous, her full body on display like some lush, erotic porcelain doll. The colours of her ink fade out in the moonlight, leaving only a blue-tinted intricate pattern of lines down her arms.

The newest tattoo, two small birds taking flight from her heart, stands out in stark contrast against the pale skin of her breast.