Dust by Eva Everson (epub e reader .TXT) 📕

I was in school.” I laughed to take away the sting left behind from years of teasing.

Westley took my hand in his. After a squeeze he let me go. “But you should see her swim. She’s like a fish in water. When we go to Tybee—”

“Westley,” I said, keeping my eyes on my food, most definitely not wanting to discuss swimming or body surfing. “Let’s talk more about our day,” I said, wanting more than just to stay away from our frivolities while swimming. Wanting only to talk about anything that would keep my mind focused on the here and now rather than the giant question that hung over my head. What was Westley—and Paul and DiAnn—keeping from me? “What about after the boat and the lake?” I asked, which only brought a roar of laughter from him.

“All right. There’s a little place downtown …”

Westley had insisted I bring my bathing suit and by the end of the day, I was happy I’d not questioned his wisdom. Despite the lateness of the year, the sun had turned the world around us warm and had made for the most pleasant day I could imagine.

I changed into a bikini I’d purchased on sale near the end of the summer—one I hadn’t worn yet, so it was a complete surprise to Westley—along with one of his long-sleeved shirts in case I got chilled. I hadn’t truly come into my own womanhood yet, but even at such a young age, I recognized the combination of my swimsuit and his shirt kept nearly all his attention toward me.

Me and the pair of skis his brother loaned him.

DiAnn, who wore the most seductive gold-toned one-piece I’d ever seen, drove the boat most of the day, her eyes nearly always straight ahead, while the brothers skied behind, bouncing over the waves of the wakes, their tanned bodies lean and angled in such a way that told me the two had been doing this nearly their whole lives. True to what their parents had always told me, Westley proved to be the daredevil, performing stunts that reminded me of the ones I’d seen during a family vacation to Cypress Gardens in Florida. I clapped and cheered from my place at the back of the boat as hair from my makeshift ponytail whipped across my sun-kissed cheeks and forehead.

Paul docked the boat in the late afternoon. Westley helped me onto the pier, his hand sliding under his shirt, now wet and clinging to my body. Fiery tingles shot through me as his fingertips rested alongside the curve of my waist and he coaxed my body close to his own. “Did you have fun?” he asked, his voice low and provocative.

My arms instinctively went around him. “It was the best day I’ve had in a long, long time,” I said, thinking what a strange place I found myself in, surrounded by three people who knew something I didn’t—something I needed to know—and yet, out on the boat, watching Westley, for a little while, I’d drunk in the wind and sun and forgot. I’d had a good time. “What about you?”

“More than a little.” He squinted down at me. “Although I’ve got a little bit of a headache I need to get rid of.”

I glanced toward DiAnn and Paul, who worked to tie the boat off. Seeing an opportunity to help and become more a part of the family, I slid away from Westley and said, “Let me help. Just tell me what to do.”

DiAnn smiled, her chin rising. “Grab that rope right there.” She looked at Westley. “Show her how to knot, Wes.”

Within seconds his hands worked alongside mine as we tied off the back of the boat. When we’d finished, we gathered up the skis, the life vests, and the picnic basket and made our way back up the hill toward the house.

Paul and DiAnn were treating Westley and me to dinner at their favorite Italian café located in the heart of Baxter. “Get a shower,” DiAnn instructed me, then glanced Westley’s way and back to me. “You may even want to nap a little after a day out in the sun.” She turned to Paul. “I know I’m ready for one. How about you?”

“A nap?” I asked, surprised but content to comply. I wanted to be a part of whatever the evening held, and I had grown sleepy.

Westley pulled what was left of my ponytail from the elastic band that held it at the top of my head. “Go on upstairs,” he said. “I’ll do the same down here …”

I took the ponytail holder from his fingertips. “I hope a little sleep will help your headache before tonight.”

“It should.”

I took a long, hot shower, wrapped myself in a thick terrycloth robe DiAnn had hung on the back of the door for me, and then padded into my room wearing socks on feet that now felt cold to the bone. I closed the door behind me with a gentle click, aware that Paul and DiAnn might possibly be in their nearby bedroom, already asleep. I leaned against the door, felt a yearning to already have what they had—a marriage and a marriage bed. I wanted to be able to lay beside Westley, feel his arms around me, his breath warm against the back of my neck as we faced the same direction. I wanted to know—

The slamming of a car door and the start of an engine startled me. I crossed the room to the window, stood beside it and lifted the edge of the draperies in time to see Westley driving away from the house. My brow furrowed. Where would he be going at this hour? To get aspirin? Surely Paul and DiAnn had some here … Or maybe they were out.

I dropped the curtain, crossed the floor, and turned off the light with a flick of the switch. Minutes later, I snuggled between the bedcovers, the robe still wrapped around me, and fell