But she didn’t want to spook him.
God knows, she had already pushed matters as far as she dared. She’d probably scared him away for good.
Looking back on it, she was shocked by the way she had acted, the way she had felt. What was wrong with her? Never in her life had she come so close to throwing herself at a man.
It might be best, she told herself, if I
Forget about him.
She turned her lounge chair to face Carson’s Camp. Lying back, she rubbed herself with suntan oil, but it was Charlie’s hands spreading the slick fluid over her skin.
After a while, Charlie returned to the boat. He loaded some baskets inside, took out two of the picnic baskets, and hurried back up the slope. Later, he returned empty-handed.
Leigh was glad he’d made sales.
He pushed off his boat.
She thought of the canoe.
Follow him.
No.
Just leave him alone. Forget about him.
All day, she thought about him. That night, in bed, she stared at the ceiling and wondered about tomorrow. She knew where he would be: at Goon and Willow. She had found out from Mike where the channel was. She could intercept Charlie, if she dared. She trembled, thinking about it.
I won’t go over there, she told herself.
You want to bet?
She pictured him gleaming in the sunlight, strong and sleek, the jeans low on his hips.
Fancy meeting you here, Charlie.
He would know, of course, that it was not an accident.
Get out of here and leave me alone.
No, he wouldn’t say that. He would sneak glances at her body. He wanted her, but he was scared.
Stop this, Leigh thought.
Restless, she threw her sheet aside. The breeze from the window cooled her damp nightgown. It smelled wonderful. It felt wonderful. Sitting up, she looked toward the moonlit window. She heard birds and crickets chirping in the night.
Why not go outside and enjoy it, she thought. You’re not going to fall asleep anyway.
She stood up slowly, listening to the quiet squeak of the bedsprings, and crept to her door. Her heart thudded wildly as she eased the door open.
What are you jumpy for? You don’t have to
It’s not them, she realized. It’s this. It’s going out alone, at this hour, in your nightgown.
She wasn’t afraid, she was excited.
It’s no big deal.
Then how come you’re shaking like a leaf?
Except for creamy moonlight from the windows, the cabin was dark. She rubbed the goose bumps on her arms, then walked silently to the front door. She inched it open and squeezed through the gap, her breath snagging as the edge of the door rubbed her stiff right nipple. Trembling, she pulled the door shut.
The porch floor was cool and smooth under her bare feet. The screen door groaned, but the noise didn’t worry her. She stepped down the wooden stairs.
You’re out. You made it.
When her feet touched the ground, she stopped. She took a deep breath. A lightning bug drifted by, glowing and fading. Closing her eyes, she let herself feel the breeze. It stirred her hair, blew softly against her face, stroked her arms and legs, moved the nightgown against her skin. Its touch was subtle and erotic.
Her legs felt weak as she walked down the steep path to the lake. At the pier, she looked both ways. She saw no one along the shore. Water lapped and sloshed quietly around the pilings. To the right, the moon made a silver path over the lake.
She walked to the end of the pier. The breeze was stronger here. It fluttered her nightgown and slipped beneath it—lover’s hands, gentle, exploring with tentative, intimate caresses.
Leigh wanted to take the nightgown off, to stand naked in the moonlight and feel the breeze all over her.
Not here, at the end of the pier. Someone might be watching.
From over the water came a quiet groan.
It didn’t sound human.
Metallic, almost like an oarlock.
The sound startled Leigh out of her dreamy languor. She stiffened. Her eyes searched the darkness.
The boat was a vague blur on the lake’s black surface. In the center sat an upright shape. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t noticed it at once; the boat was directly ahead, no more than fifty feet beyond the end of the pier.
It went nowhere.
Charlie?
She almost spoke his name, but stopped herself. What if it’s not Charlie?
It might be anyone.
The man from Jody’s.
She felt her skin prickle.
Don’t be silly.
It might be someone night-fishing.
She couldn’t see a pole.
It is Charlie. It has to be.
This is too weird, she thought. Spooky weird.
What’s he doing here?
“Charlie?” she asked. She didn’t raise her voice. In the silence, it wasn’t necessary. She knew the name would carry out to him.
The oarlocks groaned, more loudly this time. She heard the soft swoosh of the blades rising out of the water. The dim silhouette leaned forward and back, beginning to row. The boat turned.
He’s coming for me.
Oh dear God.
Leigh’s heart felt as if it might smash through her rib cage.
This isn’t happening. It’s a dream. A very weird dream. You’re going to wake up any second.
She knew she was not dreaming.
She locked her knees to keep herself upright.
Calm down, she thought. You wanted something like this. Well, it’s happening.
She was a little frightened, but excited. She couldn’t stop trembling.
Then she realized that the boat wasn’t moving closer. It was heading away.
Charlie had lost his nerve.
He’d been drawn here, late at night when she would be sleeping, only to stare at the cabin, to… what, fantasize?
Calling out to him would do no good.
Leigh dove, leaping from the edge of the pier and stretching out, hitting the water and slicing down beneath its surface. The first shock of cold made her flinch. Then the rush of water felt good. She arched upward and broke the surface. Taking a breath, she blinked her eyes clear and spotted the distant shape of the boat. She swam for it.
She knew Charlie must have seen her dive. Rowing away, he would be facing her. He had to see. But would he stop, or row all the harder hoping to get away?
