Oh, that look on Dana’s face. The way her ears pulled back as she swallowed before she said, “Yeah, do that.”
It was in moments like those when I believed she was feeling the same things I was. I hated disappointing her, but that crazy male asshole part of me almost liked that she was let down. Again, there was no point in me trying to explain it to death.
It was biological; I was sure.
I wanted her, but more and more I wanted her to want me.
The shit of it was, if I didn’t step away for a little while, I’d be in danger of saying a lot of things that couldn’t be unsaid. And I couldn’t keep blaming it on not wanting to piss off Reuben.
It happened so fast. I feared too fast.
We’d only been spending time with each other for a handful of weeks. I didn’t want to scare her off, but it was killing me to not tell her how much I already cared about her. I didn’t give a shit if I was a pussy or not, I just didn’t want to jeopardize anything. There were these instances that were getting harder to quell, ones where I wanted to say things to her that I couldn’t quite articulate when I tried. They were impulsive urges, and if I wasn’t careful, they’d also be reckless.
Every day she was more candid with me. Every time we saw each other, I learned something new about her. As our friendship—or whatever the fuck you call it—got stronger, she seemed to be taking steps toward me too.
And real steps, not the Dana-I’d-been-with-after-trivia kind. Honest ones.
From telling me about how she’d been an awkward teenager, to when she talked about how she’d wanted to be a principal—which sounded like something she’d be great at—I loved that she was outspoken and assertive with me. That’s when she was the most genuine of all.
Well, then and when she was looking up into my face, telling me she wanted to spend the day in bed. I wasn’t an expert on her yet by far, but that shit was real.
Hence, the stepping away for an hour or two. I had work I could do, but really, I needed to call Reuben back. Apparently, Lance told him I was down here, and my friend wasn’t a sucker. He’d been blowing up my phone the whole day.
She sat up, and I pulled her back down and waited until she quit laughing to talk again. I’d be a fool to interrupt a sound like that.
“Since we’re taking the boat tonight, we should leave around five. Can you be ready by then?”
“Taking me to get an early bird special?” Some of her fire returned, and the radiant blueness of her eyes blazed in the afternoon sun that was spilling onto the bed. Her hair lay wavy against the blankets.
Stop. Go call, Reub.
“I was going to save the special part for when we got back.” I waggled my eyebrows causing her smile to widen. I explained, “I had work done on the boat this spring, and I want to make sure it’s running the way it should before we go out on Sunday. There’s a good steak house about twenty minutes away in a cove not too far.”
“Is it fancy?”
“Not really, but it’s nice.” There wasn’t anywhere too fancy along this side of the lake. Most places were just glad if you had a shirt on.
“So I can wear my sweatpants?”
“The purple ones?”
She nodded.
“Don’t make me say no to those. I can’t do it.”
She lifted her lips to mine and then fell back to the bed. “Fine, I’ll save them for later.”
“Now you’re talking. Unless you brought that other purple thing I like. Then it’s a toss-up really. Surprise me.”
Don’t get me started on The Sacred Purple Teddy. I already needed space before I told her how crazy I was about her—thinking about the purple thing made it sweet torture.
She smacked my arm. “Fine. Let me up.”
I rolled to my side and sprung from the bed.
“You better put sunblock on,” I warned. Then thought about saying to hell with Reuben and work, so I could be the one to rub it in.
I knew better—don’t freak out.
“I won’t. I might not burn like most gingers, but I know my limits.” She kicked her way to the edge of the bed, and I dragged her up.
“I’ll be in the basement if you need me.”
After getting something to drink, I grabbed my laptop out of my truck, headed to the office, waited about ten minutes, and then walked down the hall to catch her in her bathing suit. As I’d predicted, she looked dynamite in a striped pin-up style two piece. Earbuds in. Sunglasses on. Reclined on at chaise lounge outside at my cabin.
While I walked back down the hall, I wondered if she’d be there, with me, again some other time. I had to believe she would, and it was that motivation which led me to finally text Reuben back.
I looked over the last few messages he’d sent me.
REUBEN: Are you still at the lake? What happened to just getting the boat in?
REUBEN: Yeah, you’re not at work.
REUBEN: Why aren’t you answering me?
It was time to put out a fire. He’d only been trying to make sure I didn’t add more stress to Becca’s plate, all the while he piled it on himself.
ME: What’s going on?
He replied instantly like he’d been watching his phone, waiting to hear back from me.
REUBEN: Man, what are you doing?
ME: About to do a little work.
It wasn’t a lie, I just omitted the incriminating parts.
REUBEN: Why didn’t you come back to KC?
ME: I got the hot tub guy to come yesterday and fix it. Moved some of the furniture out for the girls. Just trying to help.
REUBEN: Thank you. That’s cool, but I’m not falling for your bullshit. What happened to after the wedding?
Technically, I was still being honest with him, which I was glad about. Then again, technically, what I’d been doing wasn’t even close to leaving her alone.
ME: After the wedding, you won’t have to worry about it anymore. Seriously, don’t you have other things to do besides think about me?
I wasn’t sure if I was poking a bear or if he was just so damn curious, and, like always, hell-bent on being right that he couldn’t help but butt in.
REUBEN: I asked you for one thing. Tell me there’s nothing to worry about.
Him worry? He was marrying his idea of the perfect woman. He had her. She said yes. What in Sam Hill did he have to worry about?
I was the guy who’d just finally found the girl of his dreams, and because of some stupid promise I’d made to him—and half-ass kept—I couldn’t even try to tell Dana how I really felt. Even if I did, there was a very good chance she’d tell me to fuck off because we’d known each other for less than a fucking month.
The chances of that seemed to shift almost hourly.
One thing was for sure, she had a serious mean mug. Thankfully she didn’t use it often, but I was man enough to admit she’d scared me a little at Target.
ME: Dude, relax. Becca is going to have a great weekend. We’re going to have a blast on the boat Sunday. Just enjoy this, man.
REUBEN: Don’t make me kill you. Or sue you. Or call Julia.
ME: Do not call my mom, dickhead.
REUBEN: Don’t force my hand. I haven’t talked to her in a while. I might have to check in. See what the good word is.
I loved my mom, and, for the most part, she’d been the only woman in my life. However, she was eager to marry me off and—I quote—see me settled down and happy already.
Of course I wanted to introduce Dana to her, but my mom was going to lose her shit when I did. I was still trying to figure out a way to tiptoe into that conversation. She’d skip straight to searching for wedding venues when I finally let her meet the woman I was interested in. If I feared my early admiration for Dana would scare her off, Julia would have her enlisting in witness relocation.
ME: Just pick up Nolan and Trevor Saturday, and shut the fuck up.
REUBEN: What rooms are we in at Camden?
I was lucky I’d already checked into the hotel and paid for the nights. So I pulled the key card out of my wallet, but it didn’t have the number written on it.
ME: We’re in the executive suite. Top floor.
I’d be sleeping there Friday and Saturday, but I was almost positive the guys would want to bunk down at the cabin after a day on the lake. And I had a hard time believing Reuben would want to sleep at a hotel when a bed with his fiancé in it was on the other side of town.
Dana and I weren’t there, at that stage, yet. But I already hated the idea of being in a hotel while she was sleeping in one of my beds. Still, I wouldn’t leave town in case she needed something. Needed me.
Friday and Saturday would most likely find me bored out of my goddamned mind.
REUBEN: Fine, we’ll see you Saturday. Nolan is working until noon, and then we’re heading down.
ME: Sounds good.
REUBEN: I love ya man, but do not fuck this up.
Sage advice, and I needed it.
I went through three addendums, which Cheryl had got to first and taken care of while I was out. Forwarded a couple emails to Lance. Checked on backorders to stay ahead of any possible scheduling issues, because there were always a few with every project, no matter how big or small.
A few hours passed swiftly, and I had about thirty minutes to change. Judging by the empty sun chair as I walked upstairs, Dana had already started getting ready.
It would only take me ten minutes anyway.
When I first got to the door of the bedroom, I thought she was talking on the phone, but she was singing. Belting out Bon Jovi’s “Living in Sin” with vigor. Her talent was somewhere between okay and good, but she wasn’t going to win a Grammy. Nevertheless, it put a chest-squeezing smile on my face.
As soon as I heard her say, “Come on,” I knew it was the right time to jump into the bathroom and impress her with my expert air guitar moves.
While I fake-jammed my ass off, I noticed she was already dressed, and her hair was pulled up into a sleek ponytail with the tail part all fluffed up. She had buds in her ears and was holding some sort of pencil.
Her smoky rimmed eyes danced over me as she watched me shred in the mirror behind her.
Yeah, I knew the solo—even without hearing it.
When I pulled tight on my imaginary whammy bar, she lost it and doubled over in laughter, slapping a hand on the counter to brace herself. From there, I took over all of Jon’s parts too. He had some major wails at the end of the song, and I prayed I was on time with what she was hearing so I didn’t look like an ass.
Okay, so I didn’t look like a loser who fucked up at being an ass on purpose.
She gasped for air, and it felt like she was sucking my heart through my chest.
I loved making her laugh. I had many accomplishments under my belt, but making her howl with delight, like she was, soared to the top, right next to hearing her call my name.
“Oh, my God. I’m going to die.” She pulled the tiny speakers out of her ears and ripped a tissue from the box, and then examined her eyes in the mirror. “My makeup didn’t last five minutes.” She dabbed under them. “But that was too good. Oh, my stomach.”
I triumphantly bowed, after throwing my air guitar around my neck and catching it, but the sight of her was slowly sinking in and stealing the show.
“Thank you, Osage Beach. Good night.”
She was wearing a blue-green dress that hugged her curves. Her shoulders and neck were naked. No long hair to hide her freckles. No straps to get in the way.
I was going to enjoy taking it off her when we got back—if I could make it that long.
Again, I held my words to myself, and even though I couldn’t change it, I regretted it almost on the spot. But once those gates opened, I’d never get them shut.
Patience.
“I’m done in here,” she said and smiled at me in the mirror while putting her things back into a bag. “I’m going to go get my shoes on and finish my glass of wine.”
Unable to keep my hands to myself, I stepped up and caressed her flawless ass, the same ass I’d made gloriously pink that very morning.
God love a girl who asks to be spanked.
Gently, I rubbed it, making my peace with her possibly tender backside—with the hopes she’d ask me to do it again sometime.
Then I placed a kiss on her left shoulder and wrapped my arms around her. We swayed, side to side, and I stared ahead watching her gorgeous eyes fall closed as she rolled her head across my chest.
It would have been the perfect time to give her a gift, like a necklace, but I didn’t have one to offer.
Then, I thought, about how the view was picture worthy. Every hair in place. Lips plump and tipped at the sides. Her neck, like ivory, with the faintest hint of pink from the day’s sun. But I didn’t want to let her go long enough to find the camera on my phone.
The fact was, it was the first time I was taking her out—on a real date. What a shame. She deserved more than I’d been giving her, but I’d try my best to make it up to her. Starting that night.
“I won’t take long.” My lips close to her ear, I smelled her sweet, fragrant hair.
I’d considered skipping a shower since I’d spend the better part of an hour in one that morning, but she looked so fucking good. She’d raised the bar.
It was mildly chauvinistic to feel like she’d done it for me, but there was part of me that swelled with pride hoping she had.
I could do the same. Look my best for her.
She turned in my arms, and I kissed her on the forehead.
“Give me fifteen minutes.”
Or the next fifty years. Whichever.
“Okay.”
Showered. Flossed. Brushed. Dressed. Shirt tucked in. Hair combed and everything. She coughed in her wine glass when she saw me over the rim.
Major win for Cord.
Fuck, I loved the way she measured me up. How sometimes she smiled with them, even when she was trying to get on my shit. Sometimes it was like she was seeing me for the first time. And sometimes her eyes would widen, alight with excitement—the way she just had from the bar in my cabin’s kitchen.
Her reaction was promising. You would have thought I was wearing a tuxedo, not just a fitted, short-sleeved button up and a pair of the pants that Lance assumed I only wasted on work. They weren’t going to waste that night.
“You are so damn hot,” she chided, sounding like she didn’t quite believe her own words.
“Likewise, doll,” I replied with a wink. “Ready?”
She didn’t shoot down doll with words, but her playful eye roll was dispute enough.
Dana nodded enthusiastically and finished the last swallow in her stemless glass—which she’d bought a set of that day. Exchanging the drink for her purse on the countertop, she climbed one leg at a time off the barstool wearing some kind of wedge-like shoe that laced up her ankle.
I offered her my hand, and she took it. Then, she didn’t let go until we were on the boat.
After we were untied and pushed off from the dock, she sat in the empty bucket seat beside my captain’s chair. I patted my shirt pocket and realized I’d forgotten my sun glasses.
She cleared her throat, and I looked down at her on my left, holding my shades in her hand out to me. I’d never had a boner from sunglasses before, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t need an adjustment at that very moment.
“I threw them in my clutch with mine so we wouldn’t forget them.” She unfolded her pair and slipped them on, as clever as the Cheshire cat.
We drifted away from the dock, and before we got going, I made a move while I still could.
“Come here and give me a kiss,” I said from the top of the world.
“No. I brought your glasses, bossy. You give me a kiss.”
Me bossy?
She got what she asked for when I sacked her in the seat. She kicked her feet as I planted one on her. After the shock wore off from the sudden pounce, she gave it right back.
That’s my girl.
A hum buzzed through her mouth, and she tugged me closer by the belt, but I pulled away.
“Nope. You’re going to have to wait for it. I need to drive this boat.”
She groaned. “Fine. Take me to a restaurant in your fancy boat, show off.”
That was two names she’d called me in less than five minutes, but who was counting?
“That’s Cord to you, Dana.” I put my shades on and turned the ignition, steering us toward the end of my cove.
I drove slowly through the water, letting her check out the lake houses near mine. It was a nice spot, and there were many families in the area. Even though it was only Thursday, there were people all around. I adored how she waved at them as we passed by.
When we got to one of the bigger channels, I throttled ahead to get to the mile marker two down from mine, then I backed off again as her arm shot up to point at one of the bigger houses on the way.
The sun was starting to fall behind the hills and trees, but persistent beams of light snuck through the leaves, and her hair caught all of them. It almost looked like a well-loved penny, but it shined like it was freshly minted as her ponytail flowed in the breeze.
Twenty-One was one of the nicer steakhouses on my end of the lake, and the closest by boat or truck. Although I’d mostly wanted to make sure my Bayliner was ready for Party Cove on Sunday, it was an almost forty-minute faster route by water.
When we trolled up to the dock, an attendant came over and helped me tie off.
“Thanks. Two for Taylor.” I took the slip he ripped from his pad, and he extended Dana a hand to step out.
I stood behind her. If she needed any real help, I’d be the one to give it.
“I’ll let them know as you make your way up,” he stated, smiling and checking out my girlfriend.
Whoa. My what?
After pulling the wallet out of my pocket, I climbed out behind her and tipped the guy.
Cool your jets, brother. She’s not available.
Dana didn’t give him a second glance and after waiting for me, we started up the long wooden dock.
She bumped into my arm with her shoulder. “I know I sort of teased you about eating early, but I am starving,” she said.
I didn’t have time to mull over my labeling thoughts from the boat because I badly wanted to stay out of my head and in the moment—because it was a damn good one to be in.
“Me too.” I opened the door for her.
In her eye, the hint of a racy motive flickered. “And getting back sooner than later won’t be so bad.”
The times in a man’s life when he has sex with a beautiful woman twice in one day are rare, but three times was a fucking phenomenon. And I was a young guy, in great health. Some might even say I was at my peak—my sexual prime. That would make sense because I’d never, in all my damn life, wanted a woman the way I ceaselessly craved Dana.
She seemed to love sex too. Her body was always reactive, receptive to my touch. She didn’t shy away from pleasure. She was feminine and passionate, but also had an adventurous edge to her.
I’d never been a manwhore. Not really. But I’d been with my share of women, and sex had never been so fucking good. So all encompassing. So raw and thrilling. With her it was sensational.
When she hinted about going back early, and of course I wanted to spend time with her and have a good meal, but a baser part of me just prayed I could make it back to the boat before I needed another taste of her.
My fingers found hers, and I drew them to my mouth, a consolation prize for waiting, and gave them a kiss.
After we were seated, the bottle of wine I’d ordered earlier that day was brought out.
I didn’t know much about wine, so I’d called the manager earlier and asked her what would be close to the stuff Dana drank. We’d decided on a Brunello she recommended, a Banfi 2010. She’d even offered to let it breath for us so it would be perfect when we arrived.
It was our first date, and it warranted all my effort.
Plus, I wanted to spoil her. Wanted to impress her. Wanted to prove that I could treat her the way she deserved, or at least that I gave a shit enough to try my best.
Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?
Perfection was impossible. We lived in the real world. But when opportunities came up to make something special, weren’t you supposed to take them?
Besides, the wine thing made her smile like she did at popcorn and I’d take every one of those I could get.
I nodded for her to order first when the server arrived, but instead she continued to browse the menu and diverted to me. I’d already snuck at peek at it earlier and was prepared. “I’ll have the blue cheese fillet, medium rare, truffle potatoes, and a salad with house dressing.”
Dana clapped the leather menu shut and handed it to the young man. “I’ll have the same, please.”
The guy grinned at her much like the dock boy, but who wouldn’t? It took me clearing my throat for him to leave.
Our table was small, and it sat next to the huge window hosting a view of the water.
Twenty-One was busy, but the hustle and bustle wasn’t a distraction, nor was it too loud to talk and listen.
“That sounded delicious, and this wine is incredible,” she sweetly explained. “You have good taste.” She had no idea. My favorite taste was her.
She asked, “Did you spend a lot of time at the lake when you were younger?”
Slipping my knife through the smooth butter, I reached for a warm roll. “Yeah, some. Nolan’s family had a place, and sometimes Reuben and I came down with them. There were a few summers we came for a weekend here and there with my mom too.” I offered her half of my bread, and she eagerly took it. “I stayed here a lot a few years back, when I was fixing up the cabin, but I only made it down a couple times last summer. What about you?”
She placed a napkin on her lap as the waiter delivered our salads. “In college, we came down some weekends. I’ve only been here maybe five or six times, but I love it more each time.”
As she cut down the larger pieces in her salad, she added, “It’s generous of you to let us use your house this weekend for Becca. Really, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
Becca and Reuben, yeah them.
They could have used the place whenever they wanted, but I was the one who benefited the most that weekend. I’d been able to spend time with Dana—real time—and it had been priceless. We’d been able to go to the store, drive around, be us—a couple
The more I thought about it, the less I gave a shit what Reuben thought.
Maybe I’d get him alone the next night and put all my cards on the table. I was tired of waiting to… I don’t even know what.
Make things official?
Stake my claim?
No. That sounded barbaric.
What it all boiled down to was: I was ready to be happy and make her happy. And to whoever didn’t like that—fuck them.
The smile she wore throughout dinner was proof of how I should have been treating her. She was different that night. Relaxed, carefree. Like she didn’t have a worry in the world.
I wanted to be the reason for the change.
“You got it?” I asked as she stepped down into the boat, after we walked down each row of the dock. She’d wanted to look at the other boats.
“Yep, all good.” The first thing she did when she climbed aboard was untie the ribbons on her shoes and slip them off. She placed the pair together, tucked under the console on the passenger’s side.
She was sure footed, having only had two glasses of wine with dinner. I only had one. It was the most expensive wine I’d ever let go to waste, but worth every cent.
Alcohol and driving didn’t mix, but alcohol and water scared the fuck out of me. Party Cove on Sunday would be a blast, but I wouldn’t be partying like my passengers. Not with Dana, my best friends, and Trevor all in my boat. I’d let them have fun, and make sure nothing ruined their day.
Besides, I was having my fun now. With her.
She relaxed in her seat, looking as comfortable as I’d ever seen. In fact, after I got all the lights turned on, untied and pushed off, she kicked her feet up on the small dashboard area and lifted her arms to catch the warm air above her head as we cruised out of the cove.
It was a peaceful ride.
Most boats were out of the water, and the ones that weren’t also went slowly. When we hit the next mile marker, I pulled down the cove—even though it wasn’t mine. It split into two inlets ahead, which I knew would be a good place to turn around.
Out of the main channel, I slowed to a troll. Pulling my phone out, I synced it to the speakers.
Men love gadgets. What can I say?
I must have hit play on whatever I’d been listening to last because DMX blared out of the speakers and scared the shit out of both of us.
I’d been lifting. DMX always helped me push when Nolan was murdering me.
I fumbled to turn it down.
“Shit,” she cried with her hand on her chest. A low chuckled bounced from her.
“What, you don’t like it? ‘X Gon’ Give It to Ya’ not on your playlist?”
“Oh, I can go hard and get busy with it. Don’t you worry,” she deadpanned, eyes on mine with a straight face.
I’d just been served.
“All right Ginga Ninja—that’s your new rap name—you pick the music.” I tossed my phone at her and let her choose the tunes.
“You know how I feel about nicknames, but I have been looking for a stage name. If I’m Ginga Ninja, who does that make you?”
I played along and leaned forward to face her, my elbows on my knees. “You haven’t heard about me already?”
“Oh, I heard about you. I just forgot your name.”
“That hurts, Dana. I guess I’m just going to have to make sure you say it enough later so you don’t forget.”
At that point, she was only riled up half-way, and I wanted to tip her.
“What was it again?” She put her legs down, crossed them at the ankles, and then leaned closer to me. She wanted a kiss, and I fucking loved it.
“I’m Finga Bangz, professional hype man and finger banger extraordinaire. I thought you’d remember that from our first night.”
That oughta do it.
She froze, two inches from my lips. “You did not just say that.”
“No. I didn’t. I take it back. Come here.” I made a kissing sound. “Come on. I need some sugar. Stop playing around. I didn’t say it.”
“You said it,” she rightly accused.
“You’re hearing things. Mmmm.” I puckered and stretched closer.
“I’m going to let that slide, but only because you made me come faster than I ever had—before that night.”
Pride swelled in my chest and dick, and I closed my eyes and nodded. “That seems only fair.” Our lips met, but instead of slipping me some tongue, she blew a raspberry on them and then fell back into her seat.
We listened to gangster rap at a responsible volume all the way back to my dock. She knew every word to “Fantasy” by Ludacris. God bless America. She even had moves to go along with that one.
That’s how the boat finally got its name that night.
The Lucky Bastard.