“I remember. So… we’re trespassing.”
“Technically. The land isn’t fenced or posted. I’ll walk it until the owner, whoever it is, tells me not to walk it, and then I’ll stop. I’m careful not to leave trash or anything like that.”
He tsked. “And you an officer of the law.”
“I know, it’s shameful.” She smiled up at him, which for some reason made him stop, plant his hands on her hips, and pull her in to him for a long, hungry kiss.
With a picnic in mind, Bo made some sandwiches, packed a small cooler with bottles of water and Naked Pig, added some chips and Oreo cookies, and said, “Come on, let’s load up the Jeep. There’s a place I want to show you.”
He looked at the cooler. “We’re going to be gone long enough that we need supplies?”
“I plan on eating while I’m there. I thought you might too.” While he loaded the cooler and, at her request, two folding camp chairs, she packed up some food and water for Tricks, and got a quilt and several towels. She folded the towels inside the quilt so Morgan wouldn’t see them.
Mindful that Tricks would insist on the passenger seat, Bo tossed the keys to Morgan. “You drive, and I’ll crawl in back.”
“Tricks wins again,” he said, grinning.
“You bet.”
When they were all settled, with Tricks looking very pleased at being in her seat after mostly riding in the back of the Tahoe since Morgan had started driving again, Bo pointed across her yard. “Go that way.”
A blue glance slanted her way. “Cross country, huh?”
“It’s a fairly easy drive, though I wouldn’t try it in a car.”
He handled the Jeep off-road as if he’d done it a million times, which he probably had, in various vehicles. There were no truly challenging areas, just places where he had to angle the vehicle to cross a dip, and one section where the only option was to thread the Jeep through a jumble of boulders that they couldn’t go around because the trees were too thick.
In ten minutes, they topped the crest of a rolling hill and there was the lake, shiny and blue, about twelve acres in size. To the north, at the shallow end, was where the cold spring fed into the lake. Large sycamores and black oaks provided plenty of shade on the banks, which was nice during the worst of the summer heat. The weeds were knee high in some places, because the lake wasn’t a manicured and maintained area. To the east a large rocky outcropping rose like a wall, blocking access from that direction.
Morgan stopped the Jeep and just stared at the lake for a minute. “Water,” he said finally, with something like reverence in his tone. “You didn’t tell me there was a lake.”
“It’s a cold-water lake, so I don’t let Tricks swim until about this time every year. It’s still too cold for me; I’ll give it another couple of weeks before I try.”
He still hadn’t looked away from the water. “I’m going in.”
“Don’t say you weren’t warned. If you want to freeze your butt off, that’s your decision.” She, however, was going to sit on the quilt on the bank and throw the ball for Tricks to retrieve.
He set the Jeep in motion, bumping down the hill. When he got closer to the bank, he drove back and forth several times to flatten the weeds in a nice-sized area so the way to the water was clear and they had a place to spread the quilt. Tricks recognized where she was and knew she was going to swim, so she started woofing in encouragement. Morgan began playing into it, wheeling the Jeep in wide sweeping turns while Tricks played cheerleader. Bo sat in back wondering if they were ever going to get out of the Jeep.
Finally he stopped by a sycamore tree, and they unloaded the Jeep. Tricks raced back and forth between Bo and the lake bank, barking to show she was ready for her tennis ball to hit the water. “Just cool your jets,” Bo advised her. “I’ll get your ball in a minute.”
When the quilt was unfolded and Morgan saw the towels, he grinned. “You knew I’d be going in.”
“I suspected,” she said drily.
“Any snakes?” He was stripping his shirt off over his head as he spoke.
“Not that I’ve ever seen,” she replied as he dropped his shirt on the quilt and began pulling off his shoes and socks. His bare shoulders gleamed in the dappled sunlight there under the big sycamore. A lot of times his expression was either blank or guarded, but not today; enjoyment shone in his eyes, and his mouth was curved in a smile.
“Underwater snags?”
“Stay away from the south end, it’s rough there.” She paused. “I don’t know about turtles, so be careful of your dangly parts.”
He laughed as he shucked down his jeans and stepped out of them, leaving him clad only in his boxers. “I’m keeping my dangly parts corralled. I can’t set up a secure perimeter to make sure we’re completely private, so no skinny dipping.”
Tricks was still impatiently dancing around. Bo got the tennis ball and walked down to the water with man and dog. “I fully expect you’ll push yourself,” she said to Morgan, “so give me a signal to look for if you get in trouble.” From her own competitive swimming experience she knew that people who were truly drowning couldn’t yell for help because they couldn’t breathe.
His eyes narrowed at the idea that a big, bad, whatever-he-was might need help in the water. She imagined a lot of his training was in the water, and normally he could probably swim rings around her, but despite the sleek muscles she could see rippling in his mostly bare body, she hadn’t been shot and he had. He might think her offer was funny-or insulting-but she didn’t care.
Opting for diplomacy, he said, “Babe, I never want you to risk yourself trying to help me.”
She snorted. “Oh, how sweet. Let me check my give-a-shit meter to see where that registers. Nope, nothing there. Sorry.” She crossed her arms and stared at him, gaze level. The “babe” wasn’t going to distract her, though she suspected he’d thrown that in to either piss her off or soften her, and he didn’t care which. Too bad: this wasn’t about whether or not she was capable, it was about whether or not he could admit that he might still need help. When he’d first arrived, he hadn’t had any choice about accepting help, and she suspected that made him a little touchy about it now.
He could simply ignore her and wade into the water. She couldn’t stop him, and they both knew that. But last night… last night had either forged a bond between them, or it hadn’t. If it had, he would acknowledge that she needed to have a signal to look for. If it hadn’t, she needed to know that too.
She could feel herself getting chilled inside, waiting for his answer. Okay, so she wasn’t completely zen. This wasn’t an ultimatum though; whatever he answered, she would still enjoy him while he was here. The only change was that she would know it was temporary, and somehow she would manage.
He stepped closer and cupped her chin in his palm, his thumb rubbing along her jawline. She looked up at him and had one of those moments of acute awareness of how big he was, over a head taller than she was. The blue of his eyes darkened as he studied her face. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers, light as a whisper. “I’ll hold up a clenched fist,” he said, then released her and turned away.
When he waded into the water, Tricks bounded in beside him with a surplus of enthusiasm that sent up a huge splash, then she began swimming strongly for where she was certain Bo would throw the ball. Obediently Bo threw the tennis ball so it landed just ahead of her; Tricks grabbed the ball in triumph and started back for the bank, but then her golden head turned sharply as she noticed that Morgan wasn’t coming with her. Instead he was stroking smoothly through the water, his dark head sleek as a seal’s. His arms pistoned steadily, but there wasn’t a lot of splash, just the flash of his skin and a small bit of turbulence in his wake.