Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(4)

We smile at each other for a few seconds. She’s definitely older. Maybe mid-twenties. My size makes me look a little older than I am, and so does the fact that by the end of the day I have a hint of shadow on my cheeks, unlike my older brother, Robbie, who can still get away with shaving twice a week.

“Can I get you a bottle of water? Or a soda? You must be parched.” I flip open the cooler and rummage around, setting cans on the arm of my Adirondack chair.

“Water would be amazing. Thank you.” She plucks a bottle from between two cans of soda and then looks up toward the cottage set back on the hill behind us. “Oh wow. Are you renting this place?”

“My aunt and uncle own it.”

“Wow.” She lets out a low whistle. “What are they, movie stars or something?” She cringes. “Sorry, that was so rude.”

“My uncle’s a retired NHL player.”

“Oh yeah? There are a lot of those guys on the lake, aren’t there?” She drains half of the bottle in three long gulps.

“Seems that way. Do you watch hockey?” I ask.

She gives me a somewhat embarrassed smile and glances at the dock where her book is sitting, slightly wet and still in the baggie. “I’m more of a reader than a TV watcher.”

That’s when I realize the cover of the book has a shirtless dude holding a hockey stick on it. “I play hockey,” I inform her.

Her eyes flare. “Professionally?”

“No. Not yet anyway.”

“You’re very athletic. Hockey players have great stamina.” Her eyes lift to mine. “At least that’s what I’ve read.”

“I’d say it’s an accurate assessment.” I nod to the chairs. “Do you wanna sit?” On my face?

She glances at the chair and then at the sun, which is slowly making its way toward the horizon. “I do. Absolutely. But it’s probably going to take me a while to paddle back to my place.”

“I can drive you, if you want. I’ve got a truck. We can put your paddleboard in the back.”

She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth. “That’s nice of you to offer, but, uh, I’m sort of in the don’t-take-rides-from-strangers camp.”

“As someone with a younger sister, I can totally appreciate that stance. There’s a beach party later tonight. Maybe I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I think I’d like that.” She takes another long gulp of her water. “I should probably get going.”

“Here.” I pass her my T-shirt. “Why don’t you take this? It’ll keep you from turning into a beet.”

“Are you sure? Aren’t you going to need it?”

“Nah. I’m good like this.” I run a hand over my chest.

“Not gonna argue with that.” She pulls my shirt over her head. It’s so long it hits her mid-thigh. She ties a knot on the side, presumably so she doesn’t end up with another bad tan line.

I help her get back on the paddleboard and send her off, hoping I’m going to run into her again.

And I’m not disappointed, because a few hours later, I find her on the beach. Kody bailed on the party, and BJ is already being chatted up, so I take the opportunity for what it is. “You want to sit on the pier, away from the noise?” There’s a huge bonfire, but it’s loud and rowdy. The pier is quiet and calm.

“That sounds good.” She takes a sip from her travel mug; it’s a different one from earlier.

I tap my travel water bottle against hers. “What’s in there?”

“Spiked hot chocolate; what about you?” She falls in step beside me.

“Just water. I have an early practice and I’m not much good if I’m hungover.”

“That’s very responsible of you.” We reach the end of the pier and take a seat on one of the benches. “Do you go to a lot of the beach parties?”

I stretch my arm across the back of the bench. “It’s not really my scene. How about you?”

“Not really mine either. I only came because of you.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye and sips her hot chocolate.

“You’re the reason I came, too.”

She smiles, her gaze fixed on the moon hanging heavy in the sky. “If beach parties aren’t your thing, what is?”

“Hockey is a big one, but when I’m not on the ice, I like this.” I motion to the lake, the moon reflecting of the surface. “And Scrabble and origami.”

“Origami?” She tips her head, like she’s trying to decide if I’m joking or not.

“Yeah, it’s calming, and I don’t do stillness well, so it helps keep my hands and my mind busy.”

She shifts so she’s facing me. “You’re an interesting guy, Maverick.”

“I’m glad you think so.” I adjust my own position, and when I do, she reaches out and brushes something off my shoulder. Innocent flirting that speaks volumes about her comfort level with me. Which is good. “Now tell me what you’d rather be doing since beach parties aren’t your thing either.”

We spend the next couple of hours talking. But when the breeze coming off the lake cools, and Clover wraps her arms around herself, I suggest we take off.

She fiddles with the strap of her purse. “Do you want to come back to my place?”