Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I put the bigger chunk of the log back on the stump and bring down the axe again and it splinters into two. I do the same with the other chunk. Job done.
“Have you ticked off your lumberjack fantasy now?” I call over to where she’s still at the top of the porch steps.
She takes her hat off and tosses it onto the Adirondack behind her. “Now this is the bit where you get over here and fuck me on the porch,” she says.
I wonder if there’ll ever be a time when that’s not the best offer on the table.
EIGHTEEN
Efa
We’re sitting on the bank of the lake or pond or whatever the water is in front of us. All I know is that it’s not the ocean. The sounds of birds and our intermittent voices are the only things I’ve heard all day. There’s no traffic noise. No distant shouts of laughter. Nothing but peace.
Bennett is lying between my legs, where he’s been most of the day, except at the moment we’re both dressed and we’re just sitting, my fingers twisting in his hair as we appreciate the hell out of the moment. The surface of the water is so smooth it looks like glass set over a landscape painting. Every now and then a bird takes off from a tree, making the leaves shiver, or a duck touches down in the water, sending ripples a short distance before they disappear. Everything stays the same and everything’s just about to change.
The sun is low in the sky, and the light is all burnt orange and luminous. It feels like we’re in a movie—like this moment is so perfect, it can’t possibly be real.
“Today has been… magical,” I say.
He nods, and I push my hand down the back of his neck and under the cotton of his t-shirt, wanting to share more of his warm skin against mine.
“You’re great,” I say.
He turns and looks me in the eye like he wants to say something, like it’s hovering there, just beneath the surface. He hands me a smooth gray stone. “Can you skim stones?”
I shrug. “I’ve never tried.”
“You can have your first time with me.”
I know it’s a joke, but his words tug on something inside me. Suddenly I’m aware that there’s going to be a thousand first times for me in my future, and the best ones are going to be those I shared with Bennett.
I take the stone from him, his fingers sliding against mine, and we stand.
I’m only in New York for the summer, I remind myself.
Except that I have no particular reason to leave.
He looks at me, and I don’t know if he can tell what I’m thinking, but he dips his head and kisses me. “Hold it like this,” he says. “You want it to slice through the surface of the water and bounce.”
“Show me,” I say.
He launches his stone and it hops on the surface of the water, once, twice, three times—four—then plunges into the lake.
He grins back at me. “It’s so satisfying and I have no idea why.”
“Let me try.” I pull back my arm and try to aim it the same way he did. To my surprise, the stone hits the water and bounces. But only once.
“You did it,” he says, offering up his palm for a high five.
I give him one.
“What kind of stones are good for skimming?” I crouch to start sifting through what’s on the ground.
“Flat, smooth, medium size and weight.”
We start combing the shore, picking up stones that might work. The ones on the surface are still warm, retaining the rays of the sun they’ve collected throughout the day.
“Okay, so what about these?” I stand and he comes over to inspect my pickings.
A couple he discards, which leaves me three. “These should work.”
“Let me see yours,” I say.
He opens his hand to reveal three pale gray stones and a black one. I reach for the black one.
“This is shaped like a heart,” I say. “You can’t throw that into the lake.” I hold it up to the fading light.
“You want to take it home?” he asks almost teasingly, like there’s something wrong with taking a stone home from a trip to the lake.
I drop it into his shirt pocket. “Yeah. Keep it safe.”
Our eyes lock together, and this time it’s like we’re both not saying what we’re thinking. This moment is perfect. Today has been perfect. Let’s do it all over tomorrow and the next day and the next day.
“You’re great,” I say, realizing only as the words echo in my own ears that I’ve already told him that. I feel stupid. I don’t want him to think I’m asking for anything, because I’m not.
He presses his lips to mine. “You’re great too.”
“And I’m pleased I ran into you, even if it meant I can’t ever work for Fort Inc.” I grin and expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t.