Page 139 of Love in Riverbend
“You definitely have me figured out.”
“Have you ever gone swimming in the quarries?” he asks.
I turn his direction. “Don’t tell me your plans for tonight include swimming. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
His smile quirks. “That wasn’t my plan, but it’s sounding better all the time.”
“I only swam in a quarry once. It was up at Sanders Quarry.” I shiver. “People were jumping off the rooftop.”
Justin’s eyes open wide as he turns from the road to me and back. “Did you jump?”
“No,” I say definitively with a shake of my head. “I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of heights, but plunging from seventy feet in the air into water surrounded by some of the hardest rock formations around isn’t my idea of fun.”
“I did it,” Justin admits. “And if you tell Ricky what I’m about to say, I’ll never share another secret.”
Warmth fills my cheeks that Justin wants to share a secret. I lift my right hand. “I swear.”
His strong hands grip the steering wheel. “It was one summer after high school. Cory had been in Bloomington for school. I think it was after our freshman year. I had been up in West Lafayette. He and I got into a Purdue versus IU debate, and Cory dared us to go up to Bloomington to Sanders Quarry. The place was packed.”
“Despite the no-trespassing signs,” I add, remembering them from when I was there.
“Right.” He sighs. “Cory was the first to jump.” He turns my direction. “I’m not afraid of heights.”
“I believe you.”
“Then Galvin and Nick jumped. I was next, and I swear to God, I was scared shitless. Those few seconds when you’re in the air and the limestone wall is right there…” He shakes his head. “When we all climbed out, everyone was saying how fun it was.” He turns my way. “Yeah, not fun.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You went further than I did. I swam, but not by jumping off the rooftop. And it was cold.”
“Freezing.”
“Can I assume there’s no swimming in tonight’s plans?”
“We could go to Lake Monroe one day. The water is a lot warmer.”
I like that he’s talking about the future. “That would be nice.”
Justin pulls his truck along the side of a back road. The tires crunch the gravel beneath. “It’s not too long of a walk from here.”
I’m wearing a dress and sandals, not exactly hiking apparel, and yet in that moment, I’m willing to follow Justin Sheers anywhere. A few minutes later, with a picnic basket in one hand and a blanket draped over his shoulder, Justin offers me his hand. Looking down at his wide palm and outstretched fingers, I smile, my gaze going back to his blue eyes. “You want to hold my hand?”
He shrugs. “I don’t want you to fall. The path is kind of narrow.”
Laying my hand in his, I watch as his fingers surround it and decide I know.
I’ll follow Justin anywhere he leads me.
His touch is warm and steady. The strength I witnessed as he lifted boxes and furniture is still present, only gentler and more protective. Not only is he ten years older than I, but he’s also much taller and wider, making me feel safe from whatever or whomever we could cross along our journey.
He was right. The path is narrow with long grass and saplings on each side. We walk in and out of the shadows of tall trees as chipmunks, squirrels, and other small creatures scatter in the underbrush and birds watch us from branches high above. When we emerge from the trees, we’re atop a flat sheet of limestone, probably twenty feet wide. At the other side is a drop off. The turquoise-blue water of the quarry is below.
Justin releases my hand, and I turn a complete circle. The green leaves against the sapphire sky sway in the summer breeze. And within the quarry down below, the water is still, not a ripple mars it, creating a mirror of the scene above. “This is beautiful. How did you find this spot?”
Justin lays out the blanket and shrugs. “I’ve been here before.”
“With another girl?” The question slips out before I can stop it. “Never mind.”
“Yes,” he says. “I’m not going to lie to you, Devan. That said, it was a long time ago.” He sits on the blanket. “I remembered this place.” He looks around. “How secluded and nice it is here.” His blue orbs meet mine. “And I wanted to share it with you.”
