Waiting on the Rain by Claudia Connor

25

As soon as Ava got in Luke’s truck she smelled it. Pastry. Chocolate. She sniffed, wanting more. “Have you been to a bakery?”

“I have.”

She reached out, felt the paper bag, but didn’t open it.

“Go ahead. It’s for you.”

“Are you serious?” But she was already diving in, pulling it out. “Oh, my gosh! It’s still warm! How did you get this?” She bit into the chocolate croissant, closed her eyes, and moaned.

“I have my ways.” Luke started the truck and backed out of the driveway. He looked over at Ava when they stopped at the end of the street. “Good?”

“So good,” she mumbled around a mouthful. She licked a bit of chocolate off her fingers then paused. “Did you want some?”

Luke smiled. God she was pretty, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. “No, thanks. I’d like to keep my hand.” He watched her eat the rest in three bites then pushed a cold bottle against her hand. “Careful, it’s already open. Water.”

She took a long drink then stuffed in the last bite.

“How did the return of the prodigal daughter go after I left yesterday?”

“Fine.” She said, making a face. “You’d think I was eighteen. I do feel bad, I shouldn’t have made them worry, but my mom was actually about to call the police.”

“Yikes. Guess I’m in the dog house, too.”

Ava waved it off. “Just ignore them.”

Hard to ignore Ryan shooting daggers at him from a few feet away and Ava’s mother eyeing him like a creepy kidnapper. Or like he’d just deflowered her daughter after the prom. It’d been even harder to ignore the change in Ava. She’d looked so forlorn, repeatedly apologizing, reassuring. There’d been nothing of the laughing girl who’d driven a truck through an open field.

“Now do you see the appeal of the city?”

“I’m beginning to,” he said.

“Thanks for getting me out today. You were right, I needed it. Dad did great with his PT this morning so I don’t feel so bad.”

They pulled into the YMCA lot and Luke parked. Seconds later he was opening the passenger door. “Come on. Let’s see that world class swimmer.”

“I don’t need you to walk me in. And I’m not swimming with you watching me.”

“You’ve still got a little chocolate right… here.” He leaned in, kissed her, stroked his tongue over her bottom lip. “And I’m not going to be watching you. I’m going to be swimming.”

“You’re not a member.”

“How do you know? Okay, I’m not but I am a citizen. They’ve got to let me use the Y don’t they?”

“It doesn’t work like that. You have to register and pay a fee or come as a guest.”

“Great. That’s what you’re for.” He grabbed her bag and took her hand. “Come on. You’re not afraid to swim against me are you? Afraid you’ll lose?”

Her lips were pressed together, pursed, but she was cracking. He could see it.

“IfI raced you, I wouldn’t lose.”

“Huh. Care to have a little wager?” This time when he tugged on her hand, she climbed out of his truck.

“Do you even have a bathing suit?”

“No. But I have on shorts.”

“They’re not going to let you swim in shorts.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” She sighed like she was annoyed but she couldn’t hide the smile.

She didn’t speak to him as she signed in then signed him in as a guest. Didn’t speak to him as she used her cane to go to the ladies’ locker room. He found himself a suit at the counter, had to pay fifty dollars for it as it was an extra swim team suit, but he considered himself lucky.

He still had to wait and began to wonder if she was going to hide out in the locker room. She wouldn’t sneak past him would she? Called a cab and left without telling him? She might have. She was just that stubborn he thought, with a smile.

He was striding toward the locker room when he saw her come out and it stopped him in his tracks.

A bold, red one–piece that fit her body like a glove. Molded to her body. She held a towel in one hand, her stick in the other as she made tentative steps toward the pool side. He knew she could do it without his help, but he went to her.

“Hey,” he said just a fraction of a second after he touched her arms and made her jump. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m going to stop doing that. I promise.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “Why do you move like a ghost anyway?”

“Bad habit.” He walked beside her, following her lead as she went to put her things on a chair. Using her stick, she counted the distance from the chair to the edge of the water, then walked along the edge, dragging her stick until it hit the corner of the pool. Marking her location.

She made her way back to her chair and when she was satisfied, laid her stick down and counting her steps, went back to the pool. And that’s when he saw it. A stark, brownish–green mark on her upper arm. He drew in a long breath through his nose. “You said you didn’t bruise easy.”

“What?”

“There’s a bruise. On your arm.” He lightly ran his finger over it. “Those men. They hurt you. Touched you.”

Goosebumps broke out on her arm and she rubbed at the bruise. “It doesn’t hurt and I’m fine. Can we just forget about it? Please?”

“Okay.” Because how could he say no? He didn’t think he’d be able to say no to anything she asked.

She squatted down, went over the edge to stand in the chest high water. He followed, thinking they’d talk a minute, get used to the water because it was damn cold, but no. She was off the wall and swimming toward the other end.

He waited for her to swim down and back, watching her long, fluid strokes. She had the grace and strength of a true athlete. Perfect form, her toned arms rising out of the water then slicing through it. Her legs and feet churned a wake of force behind her. She only turned to breathe every third stroke.

On her third time back, he stepped to the center of the lane to intercept her and nearly got smacked in the face.

“Hey! I’m swimming here.”

“I see that. I thought you might want to take a break for a second.”

“Nope.” She didn’t want to take a break, didn’t want to stop and talk to him or think about the two of them in the cabin yesterday. The fact that he’d brought her her favorite pastry. She just wanted to swim and swim and swim. She didn’t need to see when she was swimming.

“Ready for that race?”

“You really want to race me? You haven’t even warmed up.”

“Don’t need to,” he said, reaching for her under the water.

“No, no, no,” she said, skirting back from his hands. “What’s the bet?”

“How about dinner?”

“Meaning what? If you win I go and if I win I don’t go?” That didn’t sound like a win for her and she was confident she would beat him.

“No,” he said, moving in again, stealing a quick kiss from her wet lips. “Meaning if I win you pay.”

“You’re so sure of yourself aren’t you?”

“So are you. In fact you look smug.”

“I never look smug. I’m always gracious, win or lose. But I do need my own lane.” She pointed. “Get your own.”

He ducked under the rope, put his hand on the wall behind him. “Okay. Ready?”

She nodded. “On your mark, get set, go!”

He had to admit he hadn’t expected them to be so evenly matched. But where he had a longer reach and more power, she had technique. She also didn’t seem distracted by him as he was with her.

She touched the wall a full stroke ahead of him. Her chest was heaving as she stood in the chest deep water.

“You cheated.”

“What? I did not!”

He ducked under the lane rope and came up beside her. “You did.” He shoved his wet hair back, slowly moving into her space. “That little flip thing you did? That wasn’t agreed upon.”

“It didn’t have to be agreed upon. It’s a common skill.”

“For competitive swimmers maybe.” He slipped his hands around her waist under the water.

She slid her hands up his bare chest and over his shoulders. The man was built, she thought. “Any ten-year-old can do it.”

She splayed her fingers over his back, soaking up the feel of his bare skin under her hands. His thumbs teased over her hips and she remembered how his fingers had done just that the day before. Her heartbeat was up from her laps, but she shouldn’t be this short of breath. Shouldn’t feel like she couldn’t breathe, hear her blood thundering in her ears.

When he went in for the kiss, and she met him. Stroke for stroke, rising up on her toes to get closer, linking her arms around his neck. He moved from her mouth, over her jaw and nipped at her ear.

He had her pressed so tightly to his body, she felt him grow hard against her stomach. When she pressed her lips to his wet neck, licked a drop of water there before sucking lightly, he groaned and she felt the power surge through her.

She heard the shrill sound of a whistle, ignored it. The whistle blast came again, closer.

“Hey! You can’t do that.”

Luke lifted his head, but didn’t loosen his hold on her. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Oh, my gosh. Did we just get busted for PDA in a YMCA swimming pool?”

“We did. And the kid who busted us doesn’t look old enough to drive.”

She laughed, hid her face against his chest. “Please tell me there’s no water aerobics going on. My mother will never be able to show her face again.”

“No aerobics, but there is a group of ladies staring at us. Come on. Let’s go again.”

“I’d like to do a few more laps, but the race is over. I won. I’ll just be thinking of where I want dinner.” She pushed off the wall ahead of him.

When she went to climb out twenty minutes later, it took everything in him not to help her to the chair where she’d left her things. She didn’t need him so he stepped back, dripping on the tile pool deck.

She dried off, rubbing the towel down her legs so slowly he would swear she was doing it just to torture him.

“I’ll go change and then we can go.”

“Okay.”

“You didn’t bring a towel did you?”

“I’ll air dry.”

She rolled her eyes, and pushed her damp towel at him. “Wash off the chlorine. It’s bad for your skin.”

He was waiting for her when she came out of the ladies’ locker room. This time he remembered to give her some kind cue before he touched her. And this time she put her hand on his arm and let him lead her to the car. “You sure that flip thing is legal?”

“I’m sure.”

He opened the door for her and went around the hood as she buckled into the passenger’s seat. He cranked the engine, noticed the chill bumps on her arms and cranked up some heat. “Did you decide where you want to go for that dinner?”

“Um…I was thinking we could order in.”

“No way. I pay my debts. I said I’d take you out and…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” She leaned over the center console and met his lips.

“I’m slow.”

“We already knew that. Thus, I am the winner.”