Page 79 of Van Cort
My cheeks heat, and I push the door open and head straight for the caffeine.
“You’re awake,” he says.
“I am. Morning.” I pour my cup and perch on the edge of the table next to him. “Do we have a plan for today?”
“No. Although I have some work to get to. You can relax. Take a shower. Fix some breakfast.”
“All fine ideas. But not before coffee.”
Everett’s quiet again, and I choose to let him be and go do what he suggested.
***
“I’m glad we decided to stay. Come on. I want to show you something.” He pulls me out of my seat on the veranda several hours later.
“Wait, hang on.” He all but drags me out of the room. “Weren’t you wearing a green shirt before?” I pull back against him as I cast my mind back to this morning. He’s been working since.
“Where we’re going, it might be a little breezy. You remember the beach we went to for some fresh air? Well, the island reminds me of that.” He tugs me back towards him as a smile grows over his lips. There’s no sign of the quiet mood of yesterday afternoon, but then, he did seem to make up for it last night. And I didn’t hold back. He likes to be in charge, and while it makes me squirm to start with, I can’t deny how sexy he makes me feel. How wanted he makes me feel, when his green eyes spear right into me as he commands me.
Everett’s relaxed enough to show me glimpses of the person behind the rigid suit and rules, yet, the more I see, the moreI want. And that’s a dangerous path, given where we’re at. Especially with said conversation from yesterday.
He grabs a sweater from the back of the chair for me, and we head out of the main steps, leading down the lawn and to the boathouse.
“Hopefully, one of the boats still works. It’s been a while.”
“You’re taking me out in an unsafe boat?” I halt him, but he just wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me with him.
“It’s fine. I’ve done this hundreds of times.”
“When you were a kid?”The boathouse is dark and smells a little musty; the air seems thick with engine oil, too.
“Yeah. It’s like riding a bike.”He pulls back the tarp from the boat and jumps in, securing oars, brushing off the seats and checking the motors.“Hand me the gas.”
I look around and see two cans in the far corner and fetch one.
After everything appears ready, he stands and lifts his hand for me to hold as I climb on board. It sways in the water as I add my weight, and I sit quickly.
“First time?”
“First time.”
He laughs a little and shakes his head before starting the motor and steering us out of the boathouse. As soon as we’re clear, we speed up. The wind whips my hair across my face, and my fingers struggle to pull it together to tuck the long strands inside my sweater.The air is biting as we steer headlong towards the island. I grip the bench with my free hand, keeping me stable, and concentrate on keeping my eyes facing forward and not on the rock and movement of the boat.
The journey doesn’t take more than a few minutes, and he heads straight for the small jetty. It looks like it’s seen better days, with one of the posts crooked and wonky.
“Watch your step.”
We make it to the pebbly shore, and he leads us up what could have been a path at one point in time. It’s overgrown and wild now.It’s a good description of this place, as I look around the area. The rocky and stony shore makes way for patches of dense forest, similar to that back on the mainland.
Taking my hand, he squeezes it tightly as we walk further onto the island. The only sounds around are our footsteps as he leads us around the edge of the island, keeping the shade of the forest to our right.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Partly. This was a place to flee to. To escape.”
His words give me pause as I imagine what it might feel like to want to run away or escape someone or something. His past comments come back to me, and it’s not hard to conjure up a terrible image of what his time here was for.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer.
