One Golden Summer(28)

“As nice as it is to be held by you, Alice, there are handgrips for you to hang on to.”

I snap my arms back, apologizing.

“Just reach down and you’ll feel them.” Charlie glances at me over his shoulder. Beads of water garnish his lashes like dewdrops. His eyes are an impossible shade of green, almost golden in the afternoon sun. He’s freshly shaven. His profile is stunning.

Click.

I wish I had my camera.

“Alice?”

“Sorry. I was just…”

“Ogling my remarkable face.” Charlie’s mouth curves into that smug setting I’m already familiar with. It’s a hint of a smile, knowing and teasing, higher on one side than the other. Charlie’s features speak for him. Nothing fools us, they say.

“Your eyelashes,” I say, deciding to tell him the truth. It’s not like his head can grow any larger. “The way the water clings to them is really pretty in this light.”

Charlie faces me more fully, the cocksure expression evaporating. He frowns, searching my eyes. A thrill courses through me. I feel it in my ears, my fingers, my toes. It’s spiked with fear, like I’ve accepted a dare.

“You’re different,” Charlie says.

I will my voice to stay steady. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

“It’s not an insult. Just a fact. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

I don’t have time to figure how I feel about that before he starts the engine. “You ready?”

I white-knuckle the handgrips. “Go slow.”

Charlie’s laugh rumbles between my legs, and that courses through me, too. “Not a chance.”

He lifts his eyes to my grandmother, who watches us from the deck, a giant smile on her lips. “I’ll have her back in one piece in about an hour, Nan.”

That’s the only warning I get before we’re racing across the water. I hold in my breath, squeezing my knees tight to Charlie’s hips.

“You okay back there?” he calls over his shoulder.

I turn my head, watching the cottages rush by. “I think so.”

It doesn’t take long for me to unclamp. I like the wind in my face, the water splashing on my calves. The view of Charlie’s arms and bronzed neck isn’t terrible, either.

I don’t notice that I’ve sighed until Charlie calls back to me, “Enjoying yourself?”

“I am. It’s weirdly relaxing.”

He shows me the best passage around the bay, slows when we reach the larger island, and glances at me. “You’ve never been on a Jet Ski?”

“First time.”

A corner of Charlie’s mouth inches up. “Is that why it’s on that list of yours?”

Ride a Jet Ski. Number thirteen.

I make a point of finding the buckle on my life jacket fascinating. But he ducks down so I’m forced meet his laughing eyes. “Any other firsts on there?”

There are tiny flecks of yellow surrounding his irises, and I glare at them. “That’s none of your business,” I say primly. “What you read was private.”

“I’m only curious.”

“Well, don’t be.”

Any trace of humor fades. “I’m sorry. I’m only teasing.”

“Okay.”

“My family was big into teasing,” he says. “It’s basically the Florek love language.”

I mellow. “I don’t speak Florek, so you’ll need to translate.”

“The one thing you really need to know is that we only make fun of people we like.”

“What happens when you fall in love? Do you stage a roast? Gift wrap a rubber chicken?”

He chuckles. “There’s that Alice Everly sense of humor. You’d fit right in.”

As soon as the words leave his lips, his grin flattens. “Hold on,” he says. “I’ll show you the safest route around the island.”

As he points out the areas that are hazardous for the blades of a motor, there’s not a sliver of a smirk in sight. He glances at me over his shoulder to make sure I’m following, his gaze narrowed in concentration, and I wonder if there’s a more serious person under the swagger. I’m usually quick to figure people out, but Charlie keeps surprising me.

Before we set off again, I point to the cliff across from the island. “I’m going to jump from that.”

“I know.”

“How do—” I cut myself off. The list. Number one. “Never mind.”

Charlie studies me. “Want to do it now? I’ll go with you.”

My stomach knots.

“Are you scared of heights?” An earnest question.

“No.”

We look at the rock face.

“So you’re afraid of…?”

“Dying.”

“I won’t let you die. Or get hurt.”

I stare into his eyes and somehow know he means it.

“Whenever you’re ready, let me know. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Good,” I say, heart pounding. “Let’s do it now.”



* * *





I peer over the edge. “It’s higher than it looks.”