a good time, too.”
“Oh, well, that’s great.” That’s great? A four-year-old could think of a more charming and witty comeback.
He was obviously confident of his physique as he stood waiting for her to undress. The bravado she’d summoned earlier to wear her two-piece was gone in the light of day and a public beach. She was supposed to be working, and a bikini wasn’t really professional attire. And unlike the rest of her wardrobe that consisted of blacks, grays, and browns, her bikini was a bright Kelly green, the same one she’d worn in high school. She should have worn her Speedo one-piece. Unless she worked in her hoodie and beach wrap, which would be stupid.
She undid her sarong and laid both that and her prescription sunglasses on top of her bag. Taking her hoodie off would reveal all, and so she stalled. “Have you had hydrotherapy before?”
He lifted his arm around to his back and stretched, his bicep muscle defining and shifting with the movement. Sweet divine. “Nope,” he said, popping the p sound at the end.
“Right, okay, well usually you do it in a heated pool, but the only public pool in Traverse City isn’t open on Sundays. But you can make your own arrangements during the week. One of these days, I’ll have a therapy pool at my practice… Did you want me to talk you through it?”
He smirked, almost as if he understood her procrastination, and jerked his head toward the shore. “In the water.”
“Righto, then.” She turned her back on him and sucked in a deep breath through pinched lips. Here went nothing. In one quick motion, she flung off her hoodie, grabbed her white plastic cutting board, and stalked toward the water’s edge.
A seagull flew over, calling out as it went. Two kids splashed and laughed as they pushed each other off an inner tube float. The breeze picked up the farther out she went. Or maybe that was the wind velocity from her speedy exit. She didn’t turn to see if he followed and didn’t stop until she was in the water up to her chest.
Normally, she would have eased herself into the cold Michigan lake. Storming the deep water as fast as a Napoleonic soldier hadn’t allowed for acclimation, and her nipples puckered just below the surface. Right. A bit deeper then. No giving him an eyeful of that.
She placed the cutting board in front of her chest, turned, and let out a squeal more girly than a tweener at a Bieber concert. He had followed close and was practically on top of her.
God, she needed to get herself together. Professional. Cool.
When he grabbed at the cutting board, she pulled it back to her chest.
“Planning on some cooking instructions along with your water therapy?”
“Ha ha. I’m going to use this for one of your exercises. Normally, the board would have slots in it to increase or reduce the amount of tension, but this will have to do for now.” When he didn’t speak, she rambled on. “I still have to buy a bunch of equipment so I’m improvising. Nothing’s perfect at the start…”
Anyone looking at them from afar would think they were intimate, he stood so close. She took a step back. “Okay, so first thing, just walk through the water slowly.” She pointed to an orange and white swim buoy. “To there and back.”
“Just walk?”
“Yep, but slowly. Go back and forth twice, and then twice again, but faster.”
He took off without another word. He was being really good about this whole thing, which was a bit of a worry. She should feel relieved, but there must be a catch.
On his way back, she realized she’d been staring when his gaze flicked up to hers. Caught by those blues again. But there was nowhere else to look. Nothing else to preoccupy herself, and when he turned to go back the other direction, she breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was so intense with him. Or maybe it just felt that way since years had passed since she’d been attracted to someone. Head down, study hard, work hard, make a difference. And
“Oh, well, that’s great.” That’s great? A four-year-old could think of a more charming and witty comeback.
He was obviously confident of his physique as he stood waiting for her to undress. The bravado she’d summoned earlier to wear her two-piece was gone in the light of day and a public beach. She was supposed to be working, and a bikini wasn’t really professional attire. And unlike the rest of her wardrobe that consisted of blacks, grays, and browns, her bikini was a bright Kelly green, the same one she’d worn in high school. She should have worn her Speedo one-piece. Unless she worked in her hoodie and beach wrap, which would be stupid.
She undid her sarong and laid both that and her prescription sunglasses on top of her bag. Taking her hoodie off would reveal all, and so she stalled. “Have you had hydrotherapy before?”
He lifted his arm around to his back and stretched, his bicep muscle defining and shifting with the movement. Sweet divine. “Nope,” he said, popping the p sound at the end.
“Right, okay, well usually you do it in a heated pool, but the only public pool in Traverse City isn’t open on Sundays. But you can make your own arrangements during the week. One of these days, I’ll have a therapy pool at my practice… Did you want me to talk you through it?”
He smirked, almost as if he understood her procrastination, and jerked his head toward the shore. “In the water.”
“Righto, then.” She turned her back on him and sucked in a deep breath through pinched lips. Here went nothing. In one quick motion, she flung off her hoodie, grabbed her white plastic cutting board, and stalked toward the water’s edge.
A seagull flew over, calling out as it went. Two kids splashed and laughed as they pushed each other off an inner tube float. The breeze picked up the farther out she went. Or maybe that was the wind velocity from her speedy exit. She didn’t turn to see if he followed and didn’t stop until she was in the water up to her chest.
Normally, she would have eased herself into the cold Michigan lake. Storming the deep water as fast as a Napoleonic soldier hadn’t allowed for acclimation, and her nipples puckered just below the surface. Right. A bit deeper then. No giving him an eyeful of that.
She placed the cutting board in front of her chest, turned, and let out a squeal more girly than a tweener at a Bieber concert. He had followed close and was practically on top of her.
God, she needed to get herself together. Professional. Cool.
When he grabbed at the cutting board, she pulled it back to her chest.
“Planning on some cooking instructions along with your water therapy?”
“Ha ha. I’m going to use this for one of your exercises. Normally, the board would have slots in it to increase or reduce the amount of tension, but this will have to do for now.” When he didn’t speak, she rambled on. “I still have to buy a bunch of equipment so I’m improvising. Nothing’s perfect at the start…”
Anyone looking at them from afar would think they were intimate, he stood so close. She took a step back. “Okay, so first thing, just walk through the water slowly.” She pointed to an orange and white swim buoy. “To there and back.”
“Just walk?”
“Yep, but slowly. Go back and forth twice, and then twice again, but faster.”
He took off without another word. He was being really good about this whole thing, which was a bit of a worry. She should feel relieved, but there must be a catch.
On his way back, she realized she’d been staring when his gaze flicked up to hers. Caught by those blues again. But there was nowhere else to look. Nothing else to preoccupy herself, and when he turned to go back the other direction, she breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was so intense with him. Or maybe it just felt that way since years had passed since she’d been attracted to someone. Head down, study hard, work hard, make a difference. And
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