Washed Up: Bayside Heroes, page 15
David chuckles, shaking his head as he opens the fridge to retrieve a water.
My eyes don’t leave Amanda.
Go after her.
The thought is so intense, so consuming that I jerk forward, body moving without waiting for permission from my brain.
She glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes sad, pleading — like she wants me to come after her, too.
But then her eyes flick to her son.
And we both know I can’t.
“You alright, man?” David asks when he shuts the fridge door and leans against it, frowning.
I let out a frustrated breath, closing my eyes before I force myself to turn and walk back into the living room. “I’m good. I’m pretty tired, too, though. Better head home.” I pause. “Actually, why don’t you take me? That way your mom has the car tomorrow if she needs it.”
David yawns, nodding. “Alright, man. Thanks for doing that, by the way. I’m looking at a car this weekend. Hopefully it’ll all be over soon.”
My heart thuds hard in my chest, but I just nod instead of responding.
I fume the entire drive home, knee bouncing, eyes blurring as I watch the lights outside the window with my thoughts tormenting me. I want to know what happened. I want her to talk to me, to let me in, to tell me I don’t need to track down that fucking firefighter and strangle him with a water hose.
I say a quick thank you and goodnight to David when he drops me off, and as soon as I’m in my building, I call Amanda.
But she doesn’t answer.
And I have another sleepless night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GREG
Amanda ignores me all week.
She doesn’t answer my calls or texts, no matter how I plead with her to. She also wouldn’t accept that I left my car for her. She drove it over Saturday morning, dropped my key at the front desk, and got an Uber home before I could even get downstairs to try to talk to her.
I’ve never felt a week drag on at such a miserable pace, every workday feeling like a year, every sleepless night feeling like an eternity. I debate just driving over to her house several times, but decide I don’t want to be a stalker, nor do I want to disrespect her wishes to be left alone.
David texts me on Friday.
Hey, man, we’re going to kayak at Weeki Wachee Springs tomorrow for Tucker’s birthday. Mom mentioned you’ve never been? I thought maybe you’d like to join.
My heart kicks in my chest.
It may not have been a direct invitation from her, but it was close. It was her mentioning something to David in the hopes that he might mention it to me. It was her remembering that kayaking was the first thing we put on our list.
I’ll take what I can get.
“Shit,” I murmur, staring at the text.
“What?” Stacy asks, looking up from her stack of paperwork. We both needed a change of scenery, so we brought our cases down to the café with us.
I shake my head, slumping back in my chair. “Nothing.”
“Uh-huh…”
I smile. “I just got invited to a birthday party for my friend’s kid, but I’m on call this weekend.”
“So? Just go anyway. Not like you can’t leave a birthday party if you need to.”
“They’re kayaking at Weeki Wachee. That’s an hour and a half away.”
“Oh…”
I nod. “Yeah.” With a sigh, I start typing back a text, but Stacy stops me.
“Hey, I’ll take your on call.”
I frown. “But you were on call last weekend.”
“Just switch me. I’m supposed to have family in town for Thanksgiving, my fiancé’s siblings and parents. Maybe you could cover for me then? I don’t have any cases scheduled, but I’m sure something will come up.”
“Deal,” I say a bit too quickly, a bit too excitedly, and I’m already texting David to tell him I’ll be there as Stacy chuckles.
“Why do I feel like there’s more than just a kid’s birthday involved here?” she teases.
I just smirk, which is answer enough for her that she’s right.
* * *
It’s a chaotic mess when I arrive at the kayak rental shack the next morning.
Tucker is screaming as Julia battles him into an infant lifejacket, his little face red from where she just slathered him in sunscreen. David is trying to figure out who will go with who in which kayaks, and the employee trying to get us going is annoyed and at the end of his rope of patience. I offer to help, but end up just being more in the way, so I tuck myself in between our cars and wait for orders.
Amanda won’t look at me.
She seems better than she did last Friday night after her date, but there’s still a haunting sadness in her golden eyes, a self-consciousness in her stance as she folds her arms over her middle and stands away from everyone. She looks like she doesn’t even want to be here.
I’ve tried to give her space, to stay out of the way, to respect the obvious vibe she’s given off. But the longer I stand there with nothing to do, the more I can’t help but look at her. And the more I look at her, the less I want to fight to stay away.
Her hair is messy, tied in a crazy bun with aviator sunglasses pushed up on top of her head. A simple orange crochet sundress is all that covers her swimsuit, the fabric thick enough to where I can’t see the details of her bikini, but the neckline of it low enough to reveal her ample cleavage. Her tan skin glows in the morning sunlight slipping through the trees, and even though it’s the middle of November, she looks like a hot summer day.
“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself, and then I’m heading toward her.
Her eyes snap to mine, something between a warning and a smile plaguing her features.
But then, an old Cadillac whips into the parking lot, gravel crunching and dust clouding as it pulls in right next to David’s Subaru.
I cough against the dust, waving it out of my face as Tucker screams even more. I’m ready to lay into whoever this asshole is, but the moment he steps out of the car, all ability to speak leaves me.
The last time I saw Josh Parks, he was drunk out of his mind, eyes red and glazed as he screamed at Amanda in their kitchen. I remember the scene like it happened just last night, the way his hands made an indent in the flesh of her arms, how her head smacked against one of the kitchen cabinet handles on her way down to the ground when he threw her.
My entire body tenses at the memory, fight or flight kicking in — with a particular emphasis on the fight side of things. And when Josh shuts his car door and hangs his arm over the top of his car with a shit-eating grin, a toothpick in his mouth and a beer can in his hand, I have to turn away to stop myself from following through with that gut instinct.
“Well, well,” he says as I march toward David. “Isn’t this the picture-perfect family affair?”
“Hey, Dad,” David says. “I’m just getting the kayaks situated. Give me a sec—whoa!”
I grab him by the arm and pull him out of earshot, keeping my back to the rest of the family as I lower my voice.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
David shrugs out of my grip. “What do you mean? He’s my father, Greg. It’s his grandson’s birthday.”
I grit my teeth, because I have no right to be upset or fight him on this. He’s right. It is his dad. It wouldn’t be fair for him not to be included today.
But it’s not fair to Amanda that he is.
“What about your mom?”
David shakes his head, confused. “What about her? She knew he was coming.”
I blanch at that. “She did?”
“Of course.” David smiles a little then, clamping his hand over my shoulder. “Hey, I know she’s like a mom to you, too.”
I grimace.
“And I appreciate you being protective. But she’s stronger than you think. She can handle being around him for a family event.”
I let out a slow exhale, turning just enough to glance at Amanda, who’s watching me in return.
David squeezes my shoulder again, forcing my attention back to him. “It’s all good, alright? Now, let me get this situated so we can get on the water.”
He releases me, and I stand there where he left me, nodding and trying to calm myself down. Josh doesn’t even attempt to hide his obvious glare at Amanda. He just hangs there on his car, drinking and letting his eyes rake over her with a sneer on his face.
I’m about two seconds away from blackening both of his eyes so he can’t see anything anymore when David comes back with lifejackets, and he hands one out to each of us.
“You don’t have to wear them, but you need to have them in the kayak with you,” David says. “Also, there was a mix up with the reservation, and we got two tandems and one solo instead of one tandem and three solos.”
“Tandem?” Amanda asks.
“A two-seater,” Julia explains.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to work out with them, to fix that, but they’re completely booked today. So, we’re just going to have to make do.”
“Amanda can ride with me,” Josh offers, a smiling baby Tucker hanging on his hip now. The sight of him drinking a beer and holding a baby makes me grit my teeth.
Amanda immediately scoffs, then forges ahead toward where the employee has the first tandem kayak ready to go. “I’ll ride with Greg.”
She doesn’t wait for me to respond, just marches straight past me and hops into the front of the kayak. I jump into action as soon as she’s in, slipping in behind her and strapping both of our life jackets to the space behind me.
“Just idle over there and we can all head out together,” David says, pointing to a part of the river.
Amanda nods, and then the employee pushes us off the ramp and into the water.
Weeki Wachee is a crystal-clear river fed by a spring, the water always seventy-two degrees no matter what time of year it is. It’s a refreshing dip on a hot summer day, but on a day like today, when it’s only in the low eighties and the trees cover most of the river with lush shade, it’s nicer to just look at than to submerge into.
We glide along the top of the water, Amanda steering us toward the spot David told us to wait while I give us the power in the back. We work together to stay as still as we can against the current as the rest of the family gets launched from the dock.
“Hi,” I say after a moment.
The tension in Amanda’s shoulders melts instantly, and she smiles over her shoulder before shaking her head. “Hi.”
“Such lovely company we have with us today,” I muse.
She snorts. “Yeah. Lovely enough to drown when no one’s looking.”
She says the words with another smile over her shoulder.
I smile back.
It’s not much, that greeting, but it’s enough to let me know she’s okay.
That we’re okay.
“Come on, Birthday Baby!” David announces, paddling by us. “Let’s roll!”
Tucker smiles and makes baby noises as his mom claps his hands together. She’s in the front with Tucker in her lap, and David is doing all the paddling work in the back.
Poor guy.
Or is it… lucky guy?
Amanda and I start paddling behind them, Josh bringing up the rear and struggling with how to drink his beer and paddle at the same time. He’s not even supposed to have alcohol on the river at all, but somehow managed to sneak on a six pack under his lifejacket.
None of us offer to help, and soon, we’ve put distance between us and him.
The river is calm for a Saturday, the locals telling us that in the summertime, it would be crawling with kayaks and canoes and boats and swimmers in tubes. Right now, it’s quiet enough to hear our paddles gliding through the water, and I watch the way the sunlight trickles in through the leaves above and makes designs on Amanda’s back.
“How are you?” I ask once we’re going, David and Julia ahead of us with Tucker, Josh somewhere behind.
She sighs, dipping her paddle into the water and pushing us along. “Just peachy.”
“You ever going to tell me what happened on your date?”
“Probably not.”
“Amanda…”
She sighs again, pausing with the paddle balanced in her lap. “He just rubbed me wrong. He was self-absorbed, eager to hook up, and… offensive.”
I don’t know what makes me see red more — the thought of him trying to hook up with her, or the fact that he offended her.
“What did he do?”
She shrugs. “He didn’t really do anything, other than kiss me.”
I grip the paddle tighter.
“It was what he said.”
“Which was?”
Amanda shakes her head. “Nothing that wasn’t true, I guess,” she whispers.
I frown, wondering what she means, but before I can ask, she screams.
“MANATEE!”
She nearly topples us over with the exaggerated point at a large shadow moving just ahead of us, and I look just in time to see the large sea cow breach the surface to take a sip of air before diving back under.
It swims right under our kayak, and Amanda squeals with delight, her fingertips trailing the top of the water. “Did you see it?!”
“I saw it,” I say on a chuckle.
“I read about them. They flock to springs and warmer waters in the winter, but usually hang out in the Gulf in the summer.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “Did you know they think manatees are what inspired mermaid legends?”
“I did not know that.”
“Well, now you do,” she says with a satisfied smile. She sighs when she turns back around, paddle dipping into the water. “Day. Made.”
I chuckle behind her and decide pulling her attention back to the shitty date with Samuel wouldn’t be a good move now that she’s happy and smiling. I drop it for now, enjoying the peaceful scene around us as we paddle up the river.
After about an hour, David and Julia pull over on a little sand bar in the sun, dragging their kayak half out of the water to anchor it on the shore while they eat and take a dip. We do the same, parking our kayak right next to them and shaking out our stiff limbs once we’re standing on the little sand bar.
“Brrr!” Amanda says when her feet hit the water. “It’s freezing!”
“It’s not so bad once you get in,” David argues from where he’s swimming in the middle of the cove we found. Tucker is sitting on the sand with Julia, kicking his little legs in the water and laughing at the splash.
Amanda and I work on divvying out the sandwiches and unpacking fruit and nuts and other snacks. We’re just about to eat our own when Josh finds us, pulling his kayak in next to ours.
I note the shift in Amanda instantly, how her body tenses, her eyes on alert.
I wrap my sandwich back up and stand. “Wanna take a dip?”
Her eyes flash wide, eyeing the water that she just announced was freezing, but then her gaze slips to her soon-to-be ex-husband, and that seems to make up her mind.
“Sure,” she says, abandoning her own sandwich.
She seems a bit hesitant once she’s standing, her eyes on the ground, but after a breath, she strips her dress overhead and leaves it in the kayak.
It’s only a split second before she’s in the water, but I soak up that second like it’s the last one I have. My heart races at the sight of her curves stretching the thin black fabric of her top, the high-waisted bottom revealing the supple cheeks of her ass. That glorious sight disappears into the water too soon, Amanda diving headfirst into the river and out toward where David is swimming.
Josh laughs behind me. “Oh look, another manatee!”
I spin, jaw tight as I glare at him, and he just smirks back. Julia rolls her eyes, but seems content to just ignore him.
I, on the other hand, am ready to rip him to shreds.
“What?” he probes, smile turning into a sneer as he reaches for a beer out of the six pack he brought with him. He cracks the top of it and takes a big swig. “You got a problem, kid?”
There are a million things I want to say to that piece of shit, starting with threatening his life if he says another fucking word about Amanda. But the longer I stand there, seething, the more I realize he’s not worth the time or energy.
I feel sorry for him, really.
So, I just shake my head, stripping my shirt overhead and following after Amanda.
I take a deep breath once I’m not facing him anymore — though the breath gets cut short at the frigid iciness of the water. I hiss when it hits my thighs, not excited about where it’ll cover next.
“Just dive in and get it over with,” David calls with a laugh.
I flip him off with a grin, but then I see Amanda, noting the way her own gaze is crawling over my bare abdomen like she wants to lick chocolate off it.
I smirk when her eyes flick to mine, and she flushes, disappearing under the water.
With a chuckle, I take one last breath and plunge in, getting it all over with. I emerge on the surface with a loud curse word that makes Julia scold me from the shore.
“Baby present!” she says, pointing at Tucker.
I laugh and hold my hands up. “S-sorry. C-cold.”
“Pansy,” David teases, splashing me.
“Hey! That got me, too,” Amanda protests.
Then, I launch myself at David, taking him under the water for a tussle before we both break the surface. Amanda swims away from us, laughing as she warns us to leave her out of the splash zone.
David and I share an evil grin, and then we descend on her, her eyes going wide when she sees us closing in like sharks.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warns. But in the next instant, David hauls her up over his shoulders and dunks her under the water, too.
It proves excruciatingly difficult, the more time goes on, to keep my hands off Amanda. I try to take my cues from David, messing with her when he’s initiating the horse play. But every now and then, when we’re just talking in a semi-circle or floating on our backs, I find ways to be close to her without anyone noticing.
A brush of our bodies as I swim past her, holding on a little longer than necessary when we’re all dunking each other, holding my hand out to help her up the embankment when we’re ready to dry off and lay in the sun.
