anyway.
‘‘Jeremy? Are you finished hanging your clothes? I’m ready to cozy up to that fire.’’
‘‘Yeah, right. Almost done.’’ He started flinging his clothes over the stick and managed to knock it, along with her underwear, into the sand.
That meant picking up everything, including the delicate bits of black lace that had touched the areas he most wanted to touch, too. The cold air no longer had an effect on the family jewels. As he brushed the sand off her bra and panties, his penis rose to the occasion. Maybe he should just hang his briefs on that and be done with it.
Eventually he managed to balance his clothes and hers across the stick without knocking everything over. Then he stood and wrapped himself in the pink blanket. Because one part kept protruding, he decided to sit down and hide that bad boy under the folds of the blanket.
‘‘All set.’’ The wine and plastic bags filled with food and utensils were within reach, so he pulled them over and located the wine opener. Then, in an act of brilliance, he took off his glasses and tucked them in one of the plastic bags.
If he and Annie got cozy, he didn’t want to have to deal with taking off the glasses. Yesterday he wouldn’t have been thinking that far ahead. Tucking a couple of condoms in the bottom of the open package of napkins wouldn’t have occurred to him, either. Today it had.
She settled down beside him, her left knee close to his right, but not quite touching. She brought the scent of the lake and a faint floral fragrance with her. ‘‘Now, let’s see who gets voted off the island.’’
Her nearness and her nakedness under the blanket worked on his imagination, but he was determined to play it cool. ‘‘I promise you, my kayaking trips are never this scary.’’
‘‘Then it must be my fault.’’
‘‘No way.’’ He used the weight of the wine bottle to hold the blanket in place as he worked the cork loose. The naked-in-a-blanket routine was more awkward than he’d anticipated.
‘‘Maybe somebody still holds a grudge about the Miss Dairy Queen contest.’’
‘‘After ten years? Nah. More likely it’s the Click-or -Treat crowd trying to wreck my evening for the hell of it.’’ The cork came out with a loud pop.
‘‘I just can’t believe someone could arrange all that on such short notice. It would take days, if not weeks, to build that head and neck. Then there was the thing that flew overhead.’’
‘‘What thing?’’ He set a plastic goblet in the sand and managed to pour wine into it without knocking it over or flashing Annie. ‘‘You didn’t say anything about a flyover.’’
‘‘We were kinda busy. And I was afraid you’d think I was crazy. At first I thought it was an owl, but it was too big for that. And it hovered.’’
‘‘I’d say it was probably a kite.’’ He handed her the wine.
‘‘Thanks.’’ She held her blanket closed with one hand and took the goblet with her other. ‘‘No, it wasn’t a kite. I thought of that. No wind.’’
‘‘Then a radio-controlled plane of some sort.’’ He poured himself some wine and placed it carefully beside him. This blanket was a pain.
‘‘I suppose it could have been remote controlled. Again, I don’t see how the whole deal was arranged so quickly. We didn’t plan our trip until this morning.’’
‘‘So maybe it wasn’t aimed at us.’’ Wedging the cork back in, he rotated the bottle, screwing it into the sand so it wouldn’t tip over. ‘‘Maybe some kids dreamed up the prank weeks ago and were waiting for their first victims to come along.’’
‘‘That’s possible.’’ She glanced at him. ‘‘I want to get to the bottom of this. If it’s a trick, then I can write a story about small-town teenagers finding unusual ways to get their kicks. If it’s not a trick . . .’’
‘‘Don’t worry. It’s a trick. But at least it didn’t completely ruin the evening.’’
‘‘No, it
‘‘Jeremy? Are you finished hanging your clothes? I’m ready to cozy up to that fire.’’
‘‘Yeah, right. Almost done.’’ He started flinging his clothes over the stick and managed to knock it, along with her underwear, into the sand.
That meant picking up everything, including the delicate bits of black lace that had touched the areas he most wanted to touch, too. The cold air no longer had an effect on the family jewels. As he brushed the sand off her bra and panties, his penis rose to the occasion. Maybe he should just hang his briefs on that and be done with it.
Eventually he managed to balance his clothes and hers across the stick without knocking everything over. Then he stood and wrapped himself in the pink blanket. Because one part kept protruding, he decided to sit down and hide that bad boy under the folds of the blanket.
‘‘All set.’’ The wine and plastic bags filled with food and utensils were within reach, so he pulled them over and located the wine opener. Then, in an act of brilliance, he took off his glasses and tucked them in one of the plastic bags.
If he and Annie got cozy, he didn’t want to have to deal with taking off the glasses. Yesterday he wouldn’t have been thinking that far ahead. Tucking a couple of condoms in the bottom of the open package of napkins wouldn’t have occurred to him, either. Today it had.
She settled down beside him, her left knee close to his right, but not quite touching. She brought the scent of the lake and a faint floral fragrance with her. ‘‘Now, let’s see who gets voted off the island.’’
Her nearness and her nakedness under the blanket worked on his imagination, but he was determined to play it cool. ‘‘I promise you, my kayaking trips are never this scary.’’
‘‘Then it must be my fault.’’
‘‘No way.’’ He used the weight of the wine bottle to hold the blanket in place as he worked the cork loose. The naked-in-a-blanket routine was more awkward than he’d anticipated.
‘‘Maybe somebody still holds a grudge about the Miss Dairy Queen contest.’’
‘‘After ten years? Nah. More likely it’s the Click-or -Treat crowd trying to wreck my evening for the hell of it.’’ The cork came out with a loud pop.
‘‘I just can’t believe someone could arrange all that on such short notice. It would take days, if not weeks, to build that head and neck. Then there was the thing that flew overhead.’’
‘‘What thing?’’ He set a plastic goblet in the sand and managed to pour wine into it without knocking it over or flashing Annie. ‘‘You didn’t say anything about a flyover.’’
‘‘We were kinda busy. And I was afraid you’d think I was crazy. At first I thought it was an owl, but it was too big for that. And it hovered.’’
‘‘I’d say it was probably a kite.’’ He handed her the wine.
‘‘Thanks.’’ She held her blanket closed with one hand and took the goblet with her other. ‘‘No, it wasn’t a kite. I thought of that. No wind.’’
‘‘Then a radio-controlled plane of some sort.’’ He poured himself some wine and placed it carefully beside him. This blanket was a pain.
‘‘I suppose it could have been remote controlled. Again, I don’t see how the whole deal was arranged so quickly. We didn’t plan our trip until this morning.’’
‘‘So maybe it wasn’t aimed at us.’’ Wedging the cork back in, he rotated the bottle, screwing it into the sand so it wouldn’t tip over. ‘‘Maybe some kids dreamed up the prank weeks ago and were waiting for their first victims to come along.’’
‘‘That’s possible.’’ She glanced at him. ‘‘I want to get to the bottom of this. If it’s a trick, then I can write a story about small-town teenagers finding unusual ways to get their kicks. If it’s not a trick . . .’’
‘‘Don’t worry. It’s a trick. But at least it didn’t completely ruin the evening.’’
‘‘No, it
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