Pretend Love Romance by Penny Wylder
Leo
It’s hard to keep a straight face the way Diana’s friends are trying to set her up. I can’t exactly say that I’m not used to it.
This group of women isn’t the first bachelorette party that I’ve taken rafting. They’re actually more reserved than others I’ve encountered. It’s definitely not the first time a group has managed to put their single friend into a boat with me. And it’s certainly not the first time I’ve felt sheer lust coming off a guest when they look at me.
But today is a first, in that it’s the first time that I’ve ever actually considered acting on it.
Diana is a goddess—sex walking on two gorgeous, toned legs. I consider it a good thing that the river is right here and freezing cold, because I might need the equivalent of a cold shower if I’m going to keep my dick in check. It was hard enough doing that when I was buckling her into the life jacket.
She was so close that I could have felt her. I didn’t. Not just because it would be stupid and creepy to do that without permission—even though she was looking at me like I was a chocolate bar that she wanted to eat.
Fuck, her curves are in exactly the right places, and her pale skin blushed so easily, my mind was going crazy with how she might blush while doing other, more intimate things. Like riding my cock.
But the other reason I couldn’t was that if I started sleeping with guests, it would be the beginning of the end for us. Blue Mountain Wilderness Lodge is still brand new, and a fledgling business in the hospitality and guiding industry. We’ve been lucky it’s been so successful so far, and I’m grateful. It makes the plans for expanding next year possible.
But we don’t even own the land that the lodge sits on. That’s still coming. We—my best friends and I—still have two large payments on the property before we get the deed, and that’s really just the tip of the iceberg. You have to spend money to make money, and that’s more apparent than ever with this business. It’s working, we just have to stay the course.
Which is why I can’t start sleeping with the guests. Even if those guests are wearing skintight athletic wear that shows off every single curve and have thick brown hair that I want to twist my fingers into.
My mind takes off into a fantasy, imagining that I’m doing just that. As soon as my hands are in her hair, I want to hear the gasp that she would make when I kiss her hard. See just how warm and soft her body is as I take her back to my place for more.
But that won’t happen. Nope. And I shouldn’t even be indulging those fantasies.
She hasn’t said anything to me since we started paddling, just chatting with her friends, but I can feel her where she sits in front of me like a flame. Completely aware of her presence and movement. Being able to watch her like this is delicious torture—the glimpses of her face that I get when she turns to say something, the way she moves as she helps me paddle.
Diana had been worried about this, and she’s right that she isn’t contributing much to the guiding of the canoe, but that’s okay. I know this river like the back of my hand, and I’ve gone through the rapids solo more times than I can count. Everything will be fine.
The river is higher than normal because of the spring melt, but I took this route a few days ago in preparation, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. A little more intense, maybe, but that will only make it more fun for them.
In the past, on these trips, I tried to stay in my own headspace and not infringe on the group’s privacy, but right now I’m listening. Even if nothing can happen, I find myself desperate for scraps of information about Diana. Other than what I already know: she is beautiful and single.
This group is entertaining. I gather that Emily is the one who is getting married, Diana is the maid of honor, and it had been a feat worthy of the gods getting her to go on a trip like this. That makes me chuckle.
With a body like hers, I would have pegged her for loving the outdoors and climbing up mountains with her bare hands. I would like her to climb me with those hands.
Jesus, Leo. Stop it.
I slam the thoughts down under a giant rock and try to focus. If I let my thoughts run wild, I will definitely get a hard on in front of this group, and frankly that might be almost as bad as giving in and sleeping with her.
Well…maybe not. But it’s still a bad idea.
The time passes quickly, and because the river is higher and moving faster, we arrive at the large rapids a lot faster than normal.
“All right, ladies,” I say. “We’re coming up on the last set of rapids. The most difficult ones. We shouldn’t have any trouble, just keep a good eye out.”
“Okay,” Emily says. “Thank you.”
They all settle down immediately and focus in. That’s a relief. Some bachelorette parties don’t take the warning seriously. Those are the trips that I’ve had to fish people out of the river, and that’s never fun for anyone.
This is my favorite part of the route. The rapids are difficult enough to still get my heart pounding even after all this time, but they’re not so hard that beginners can’t go through them safely. With the water so high this time, I don’t want to take any chances.
But as we turn the corner, I see that it’s far faster than when I rode this current the other day. The river is a churning mess of white water and almost nothing resembling the rapids I have memorized. Shit.
“This way,” I paddle to the left of the river where the water looks smoothest and the least of the rapids are. On a good day, we could go through the hard ones. This is not a good day.
My regret is instant, and I push down a splash of panic. I should have walked down the shore to double check yesterday. I should have made sure that it was okay instead of relying on last week’s trip. If anything happens, it will be my fault.
The water fights me as I dig in with the paddle. It’s strong even for me. We’re heading straight for a crevice between two rocks, and we could get stuck there like this. It has the potential to shatter the canoe or worse. “Diana, left.” I yell quickly.
She does her best to help, pushing the paddle into the water on the right, and it’s enough. We barely clear the rock, but we’re through. And not. A scream comes from directly behind me. Diana and I made it out, but the canoe with Emily and Sarah did not.
Their canoe hit the rock, the force of the current shoving it up and over so they were tilted. They weren’t prepared for it. The third canoe is about to crash into both of us.
I lunge on instinct, just within reach as we’re being swept downstream to grab the tip of their canoe and haul it back down into the water before they’re thrown from the boat. “Paddle hard,” I shout to them, but they’re frozen in shock, and my own canoe is tilting backwards.
Diana is gone. We’re all still moving way too fast, but in a moment, I know what happened. My unexpected movement tilted the canoe to the right, and that along with the water, was enough to knock her into the river.
Fuck.
My heart pounds in my ears. I have to get her out. The river is dangerous like this. She could get injured, and it will be entirely my fault.
I paddle like a man possessed, getting control of the canoe and past the rocks that caused the accident. I don’t see her. She’s nowhere.
The only good thing in this situation is that the rapids are brutal, but they’re short. In seconds, we’ll be through. But Diana might not have seconds.
I turn back to the other canoes. “Paddle straight and do not stop. Get out when it’s calm.”
Looking back at the water, I don’t wait to hear an acknowledgement or anything else. Give me a sign. Please.
I see her life jacket caught on a huge trunk trapped in the water, changing the natural direction of the rapids. Shit. Without that she’s even more vulnerable to the current. Where the fuck is she?
There. Across the river there’s a hand reaching out of the water, and it’s gone as fast as I saw it, sucked down into the furious current. How much air did she have left? Did she manage to take a full breath as she was falling? Was she conscious?
I survey the swirling water a fraction of a second longer before standing and jumping in one movement. Icy cold slams into me, nearly knocking my breath away. Shit. This kind of cold doesn’t even let you think. But I don’t have to think, I just have to swim. Because if I don’t, then it could be too late.
