Page 11 of Anchored

I put down my glass of water and swivel my stool to face him. Our knees are pressed together. “Okay, I can understand that. Teenage years can be brutal. But when I came back the next summer, you were with Macy Bechtol.” My face automatically pulls up into a grimace. Macy’ll do that to you.

Holt hoots with laughter. He takes a swig of his wine and looks like he needs to say something or he’ll explode.

“What?” Clearly I’ve had too much of the wine because I put my hand on his thigh. Hard, hot muscle under a thin sheath of cotton greets my hand.

Holt puts his hand over mine and doesn’t remove it. Just squeezes my fingers. “I married Macy.”

The gasp I gusped is loud in the silence of the cabin. My hand flies out from under his to clutch the necklaces lying on my chest. “No!”

My reaction only makes him laugh harder. “And divorced her two years after that.”

My shoulders drop on a huge exhale. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t think I could stay here if Macy was about to walk in.”

“Big Macy Bechtol fan, huh?” His eyes are twinkling still, but his jaw clenches tighter.

I probably shouldn’t disparage her too much. They may be divorced now, but he saw something in her at one time that made him want to marry her. “Well, let’s just say she wasn’t super nice to me.”

That’s an understatement. The woman was a classic bully, finding your weak spot and poking you in it until you cried. She’d called me a weirdo, which isn’t exactly original, but when it’s the exact word your family uses when describing you, it hurts.

Holt makes a little noise under his breath, but doesn’t comment. He takes another sip of wine. “So what about you? Why does Grandma Gracie seem to think you have a fiancé? Is there a strapping lumberjack I need to worry about barging in here and defending your honor?”

I bark out a laugh, thinking of Dexter as a lumberjack. He’s a jack alright, but more of a jackass. “No. I was engaged for two years, but never got married. Found Dexter in our bed with one of the other yoga instructors from the studio where we all worked.”

Holt’s grimace matches my own when I brought up Macy. “Dexter the Dick.”

I nod. “Exactly. Anyway, I never told Grandma we broke up. At first, because I was embarrassed. I kept up the lie because she was so excited for me to get married, and then so much time had gone by, I felt like I couldn’t tell her the truth without explaining I’d been lying to her for several years.” I rub my forehead. “I feel terrible about it. She’s my favorite person in the whole world and here I am lying to her.” I look up at Holt. “That probably makes me a terrible person. Are you sure you want me to stay here this weekend? I’m probably one step away from being a murderer.”

Holt laughs, not looking at all worried. He stands, his muscular thighs bumping into my knees as he picks up our plates. I feel like I’m able to breathe easier as he moves away to put them in the sink.

“My first kiss would never murder me in my sleep. It’s against the law of crushes.”

I stand up and take both of our glasses to the sink. “Law of crushes, huh? Pretty sure one of the laws is to not walk away after you’ve kissed your crush.”

Holt’s head whips up, bubbles of soap on his thick wrists as he rinses our plates. Sure hope that watch of his is waterproof. “I knew you were still mad about that!”

I grin and we clean up the kitchen in companionable silence. As Holt hangs the damp kitchen towel on the oven handle and there’s nothing left to do, Holt eyes me up and down. It’s quick, almost like he hoped to not get caught, but I’m so attuned to everything he does, I see it. And my body heats under his gaze. Mookie is back to jumping at my ankles, geared up from her after-dinner nap while we ate. I bend and pick her up, just to have something to do with my hands.

“I’m going to take Mookie for a run, then lift some weights in the guest room.”

I nod. “Okay. I’m going to head to bed early. I left Charlotte before dawn today to beat the traffic.”

Holt comes over and tries to lift Mookie from my arms. The pup bares her teeth and growls. Holt gives her a fierce look in return, the two of them having a face-off. It takes her a couple moments, but she finally puts her teeth away and lets him take her. I feel like Mookie could use a few sessions with me. She’s a hyper aggressive little thing.

“I can take you to Sunny Shores to see Gracie in the morning.” Holt pauses. “Should we keep pretending to be engaged?”

I chew on my lip, surprised when I taste a thread of copper. “If you don’t mind? Doctor Ahmed said not to argue with her. Maybe just until the specialist sees her and gives me his evaluation?”

Holt puts his hand on my shoulder and leans in a little. “Hey,” he says softly. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’ve been meaning to brush up on my acting skills. The local theater has been begging me to play Thor.”

His twinkling eyes draw me into his joke. “Thor, huh? Pretty sure that’s not a play.”

He shrugs and walks over to the door where he pulls a leash off the hook on the wall and clips it on to Mookie’s collar. “It should be. I’d be amazing.”

He opens the door, and I call after him. “Watch out for that enlarged head. You could tip right over.”

His laughter and Mookie’s bark are the last things I hear. I hurry to my suitcase and wheel it over to the couch. I open it, rifling through to find my pajamas. I slip into them, a short pair of cotton shorts and a flimsy tank top that barely holds in my boobs, realizing quickly I should have packed something a bit less revealing to sleep in. Then again, I didn’t realize I’d be sharing the cabin with Holt McGrath!

Sliding under the blankets on the floor, I go on my phone, searching desperately for a place to rent for the summer. I come up empty after more than fifteen minutes of searching. Frustrated, I get up and run to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before Holt and Mookie get back.