Move the Sun (Signal Bend #1)(67)

There were always musicians in the mix, usually of the folk variety; this night, three people had guitars, someone had a fiddle, and someone else had a set of hand drums. Joints and bags of mushrooms were passed freely, as was beer and booze. Bonfire. Folk music. Artsy types. Booze and drugs. Isaac would never hear the end of it from his brothers if they saw how much he loved this hippy shit.

They said their hellos, and Lilli laid out a blanket. Isaac sat against a log near the fire and pulled her down to sit between his legs. He handed her a beer and opened one for himself, then leaned back against the log and pulled Lilli back with him. He felt calm. He almost wished this could just be his life, riding around in that shitty old camper, selling his work, hanging out with the show bums, riding curvy country roads with his woman behind him, in the deep night. He could be a vagabond. Wouldn’t even take much of a push. The road was where he felt right.

Duncan, a leatherworker and good friend, and his wife Mindy, who made beautiful papers, shared the long log with them. They also shared their weed, and Isaac and Lilli shared their beer. Lilli lay quietly on his chest, listening while Isaac talked shop with Duncan and Mindy. When Stan came over, though, and then Tonya, and the conversation became a dishfest, Isaac could feel Lilli getting restless. But he was in the thick of the conversation and didn’t really want to get out of it. He hadn’t seen these friends in a while.

Eventually, Lilli scooted from between his legs and out of the growing cluster of people gossiping about stuff she knew nothing about. Isaac saw her go and watched her wander toward the bathrooms, listing to starboard a bit. Knowing where she was off to, he returned his attention to the increasingly lively conversation.

But she was gone a long time. Isaac looked around at the empties on the blanket, where she’d been putting hers, and did some math. She’d downed a six pack. And had her share of hits off two good-size doobs being share among four people.

Lilli was very likely wasted off her ass.

When she was around him, he knew what that meant—completely uninhibited and a little bit freaky.

Horny as f*ckall. When he was with her, it was spectacular. He didn’t know what to expect when she was wandering around on her own.

“’Scuse me folks, I seem to have misplaced my lady.” Nobody really noticed, and he got up and went Lilli hunting.

She wasn’t at the bathroom; he’d grabbed Julie, a weaver, and asked her to check. He looked everywhere, finally just yelling her name as he walked. He was starting to get really worried, bordering on frantic, wondering if the club’s problems could have chased him to Tulsa and caught up Lilli, when he got to the lake. There were more swimmers, more of them naked, now.

And she was one of them.

He’d scanned the water only because it was the last place to look, sure she wouldn’t be there. But there she was, standing in waist-high water, her breasts bare and shimmering in the moonlight and the faint light cast from the bonfire. She was beautiful. And completely exposed.

“LILLI!” he roared. She saw him, laughed, and dived under. Her bottom half was bare, too.

Holy f*cking Christ. She was wasted and swimming. She was naked, in front of all these people. His woman. On display. He didn’t know whether to be worried for her safety because she could drown or because he was going to throttle her.

When she came up again, he roared again, “LILLI! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE NOW!”

She laughed, flipped him off, and went under again. This time she stayed under for a distressingly long time and was farther away when she finally broke the surface again. Then she dived again. When she came up, she was far out and treading water.

Now they were into drowning territory, if she was as wasted as he feared.

He was going to have to go out and get her. Fuck.

Isaac swam, but he did not leave himself vulnerable. Stripping to his underwear in a crowd, even this crowd, leaving himself unarmed and barely dressed? He did not do that.

Fuck, f*ck, f*ck.

During the few seconds Isaac grappled with his quandary, Duncan walked up and stood at his side. “I’ll go get her, man.”

No. Another man was not bringing his naked woman back to the beach. He toed off his boots. “I got her. Just—grab our blanket for me.” Duncan nodded and headed back to their log by the fire.

Now that he’d committed to this folly, Isaac stripped quickly and efficiently, down to his boxer briefs, then strode into the— f*cking cold—water and dove in. He swam long, strong strokes. Lilli hadn’t moved much, just bobbed in place; Isaac took that as a bad sign and put a little more power into his stroke.

She’d gotten even farther out than he’d realized. When he got to her, she was breathing too hard and looked distressed, but she was still above water. As he got his arms around her, Isaac felt a strange brew of emotions: rage, terror, love, relief. He let love and relief have sway. “Hey, Sport. Whatcha doin’ out here?”

“Water’s deep,” she gasped, with a strained little smile. “Cold.”

“I gotcha. Wanna head back?” She nodded, and he pulled her close and swam back. She didn’t fight at all, and Isaac was glad to be able to concentrate on getting them back to the beach. When he got to water they could stand in, though, she didn’t. She’d passed out. Fuck. Thankfully, he could feel her chest moving under his arm, so he knew she was breathing. He swept her naked body into his arms and walked onto the beach.