RUSH (City Lights, #3)(81)

“Don’t let her hear you say that unless you want an earful about sexism against women in the workplace.”

I turned in Noah’s arms. “You seem to be holding up well.”

“I guess. I didn’t treat them well for a long time.”

“I watched their faces as you spoke. They’re your family. All is forgiven.”

That cheered him, but I thought of the night Noah had a terrible migraine, and wondered—not for the first time—what would have happened to him had I not been there. Because none of them were there for him.

But the Lakes weren’t the cold, aloof rich people I’d built them to be in my mind. I could only guess Noah’s snappishness had been a thousand times worse when he was newly coping with his blindness.

We dressed in our bathing suits—mine an old two-piece I’ve had since high school. It was faded by sun and chlorine but it was all I had at short notice. Noah put on swim trunks and I ogled his chest shamelessly until he put a t-shirt on.

“Tsk tsk,” he said, moving to take me in his arms. “Hardly fair when I can’t see you.”

“Take a look,” I said. The nightmare of what happened just last night was hanging over me, but so was the fact Noah had made love to me for the first time too. I closed my eyes as he trailed his hands down my neck, over my breasts, skimming down over my stomach.

“A bikini,” he said gruffly. “What color?”

“Faded pink and blue stripes,” I murmured. “Very chic.”

“I changed my mind,” he said, holding my hips against him. “Let’s not swim.”

He kissed me hard and deep, but Ava rapped smartly on the door right on cue.

“Come on,” she called. “The parents are waiting to see how normal everything is now. Mustn’t disappoint.”

Noah sighed and reluctantly released me. He found his sunglasses and white stick while I threw on a sundress.

Ava inspected us as we emerged, a sharp glint in her eye. “Shall we?”

I tried not to stare but holy god, she was stunning. She had to have been at least five-eleven; the first woman for whom I could apply the word ‘statuesque.’ She wore an elaborately patterned sarong in gold and black around her slender waist, and her silken hair flowed in thick, dark waves over her bare shoulders. Her small breasts were perfectly ensconced in a black bikini top, while I knew I’d spend the entire afternoon praying my boobs wouldn’t pop out of my worn-out old suit.

“Our parents bought this house when Dad retired,” Ava was saying as we took the stairs down. “Overdone, if you ask me, though I’m sure Mom’s had a field day decorating it.”

“When were you back here, last?” Noah asked his sister.

“February. The paper got shut down by bomb threats and they sent all of us home for a week.”

“Jesus, Ava.”

“Cowardly, really, but after Charlie Hebdo, I can understand the reasoning. Marginally.”

“Where do you work?” I asked, wondering if she were a government official or a CIA operative. I wouldn’t have been surprised at either one.

“I’m assistant to the managing editor at World Voice. We’re in London. A political rag,” Ava said, though I didn’t miss the pride in her voice. “We report from the worst of the war-torn countries, trying to get the local people heard and bring attention to the injustices most other outlets only skim the surface of.”

“Oh, a journalist too,” I said. “That sounds like a very fulfilling job. But death threats? Is that common?”

“Yeah, Aves,” Noah said dryly. “Is that common?”

She smirked at him over her shoulder. “Silence is complicity. It’ll take a lot more than a scary phone call to shut us down.”

“And yet, one did.”

“That was the Ministry of Defence’s call, not ours.”

“So why are you here now?” Noah asked. “Another bomb threat? Because I know you don’t do vacations.”

“No, it was a miracle,” Ava said, opening the French doors to the patio. She gave him a playful elbow to the ribs. “Someone told me my brother had returned from the Land of the Dickheads and I had to see for myself if it were true.”

We arrived at the patio. Lucien, and Mr. and Mrs. Lake had moved to a covered table near the pool, while the three of us set up camp on lounge chairs. Paul came around with fluffy white towels and sunscreen.

Noah took off his shirt and I slathered sunscreen on his back.

“They’re staring at my scars, aren’t they?” Noah murmured under his breath.

I glanced to where his parents and Lucien sat. Mrs. Lake had her fingertips pressed to her mouth. “Yes,” I murmured back.

“I shouldn’t have shown them,” Noah said. “It’ll only upset her. Is she upset?”

I glanced again. “I think she looks grateful. She’s smiling. She’s just glad you’re here.”

He turned and kissed me. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I returned his kiss, feeling Ava’s eyes on us all the while.

*

Swimming proved to be easier for Noah than I think even he could have guessed. Once he had the dimensions of the pool in mind—gigantic by gigantic—I watched him hurl himself off the low diving board, flipping and rolling and diving with a reckless abandon. I’d never seen him laugh or smile so much. He and Ava and I swam and cavorted like kids while the elder Lakes and Lucien sipped cocktails and watched.