Page 16 of Whiskey Chase
“What do you think?” Scarlett asked, plopping a straw cowgirl hat over her dark hair. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a country album in her short, shredded denim cutoffs and her I Heart America white tank. Her blue flip-flops showed off pink toenails. And was that a peek of a red bikini I was seeing? God help me, it was. And I was trapped on a tiny barge with her three brothers.
I didn’t feel like now was a good time to share exactly what I was thinking. Instead I stated the obvious. “Your deck is floating.”
“There’s a sandbar in the middle of the lake. On warm days, everyone heads there.”
“To do what?”
She looked up at me from under the brim of her hat like she felt sorry for me. “To have fun, Dev. When’s the last time you had any of that?” She laid a palm against my chest, and while Ireallyliked how it felt there, I heard Gibson clear his throat.
Message received.
I took a step back, and Jameson helpfully shoved a cold beer into my chest. “Maybe this will help you cool off.”
“Thanks,” I said weakly.
We motored out around the boulders that jutted into the lake and into open water. Geographically, the lake was huge. I could barely make out the opposite shore which, if Scarlett’s tall tales were correct, was Maryland. We were heading away from town, and I noticed the lakefront homes grew sparser, replaced by rocky ledges and thick copses of pine trees. There wasn’t much civilization on this end of the lake, and had I been alone, I might have enjoyed it.
I shouldn’t have come. I wasn’t prepared to socialize, especially not with an entirely different culture.
Someone behind me hooted. There in the center of the lake was a long strip of sand and a half-dozen other floating decks. I’d spent summer days on the Potomac on the deck of a sailboat, but I’d never seen anything quite like this.
With the expertise of a riverboat captain, Scarlett piloted us up to the sandbar, beaching the deck gently. Gibson flipped open a section of the railing and tied it to the neighboring deck, effectively lashing us to them and creating a doorway.
Greetings were exchanged, music stations synched, and inner tubes were launched into the dark lake waters.
“Isn’t it a little cold for that?” I asked Scarlett.
“Hot springs, remember?” She leaned down and scooped up a handful of water, splashing me in the face. It wasn’t the icy bath I’d anticipated.
She laughed, and I mopped my face with the hem of my t-shirt. Was it my imagination, or had her gaze locked on to my abs? It made me wish I hadn’t given up on working out. A few months ago, she would have had something to stare at.
I dropped my shirt back in place, and she gave me a friendly grin. “Now, you just sit right down and enjoy yourself,” she said and danced over to the neighboring deck.
In our flotilla, there were 20-somethings shotgunning beers, parents sunscreening little kids, and even a deck full of senior citizens in floppy hats playing Bunco.
I sat on the edge of the deck with my bare feet in the water and wondered how my life had come to a screeching halt and dumped me here. And why I wasn’t more upset.
“Flippin’ contest!” someone shouted.
The Bootleg population represented on the lake cheered, and the chant started. “Flip! Flip! Flip!”
The Bodine brothers shared a look and rose as one. Cheers erupted.
“You’re going to need to move back for ballast,” June said, appearing at my elbow. June, Cassidy, and I lined up on the edge of the deck closest to the sandbar while the brothers made a show of peeling off their shirts and stretching.
“Wait for me, y’all!” Scarlett barreled over from the next-door deck. She stripped off her tank top, and I swear I went deaf for a second or two. I’ve seen people move in slow motion in movies, but I’d never experienced it in real life. She shucked her cutoffs, and they hit me square in the chest. With a grin, she stood before me in a cherry red bikini that made it very clear exactly how sexy she was.
When she followed her brothers and climbed up on the top rail of the deck, I felt my heart stop.
The swimmers in their inner tubes cleared the water. “Get it, Bodines!”
“Shake your tail feathers!”
I didn’t know what that meant, but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Starting with Bowie on the right, they turned their backs on the lake one by one and executed perfect back flips into the water.
“Holy sh—”
