17. Kali

CHAPTER 17

Kali

He didn’t capture my breath; he breathed life back into me.

And now, my heart is confused.

Leaning against the counter, I let my gaze wander up and down his silhouette while he peels potatoes. Though I offered to help, he insisted I sit back and relax. He glances over his broad shoulder, catching me staring, and responds with a curious lift of his dark brow.

“You’re going to spoil me,” I remark, never having had a man cook for me.

He shrugs and turns back around, replying, “You deserve to be spoiled.”

That’s incredibly sexy, adding another layer of confusion. My heart thuds against my ribs, shouting at me to take notice. I see, heart, I see.

But a guy like him, one who could have any woman, doesn’t want a small-town girl like me with a brand-new set of emotional baggage that weighs two tons. If he knew the real me, the one before he became my hero, I’d never be on his radar. Maybe if I told him I was a millionaire, he’d change his mind. I inwardly groan, dropping my head. Manipulation isn’t my style, and I’m not that person.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

I glance up to find him leaning against the counter, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on me. Self-doubt is another unattractive trait I know he wouldn’t appreciate in a woman, so I ease into a smile and shake my head. “Just a lot to think about.”

Rather than probing further, he grins and suggests, “I have the perfect place for that.”

He grabs a candle, bug spray, and a blanket, holding the door open for me. The screen door slams behind us, and I turn back to see Riggs sitting at the door, whining. I shoot him a sympathetic look. I’d bring you if I could, buddy. Paxton ignores him and leads me down a set of stairs to a lower deck, steps from the water.

The scene unfolds in pure tranquility, with the water laying still like a reflective mirror beneath the fallen clouds. The storm shifted directions and seems this round will miss us.

“How can you ever leave this place?” I marvel.

“If it wasn’t for work, I’d never leave. But it’s also why I spend most of my free time out here,” he shares.

I settle into one of the Adirondack chairs. He places the bug spray and candle on the table beside me and retrieves a lighter, lighting the candle.

“The damn mosquitoes are vampires. This’ll help.” The scent of citronella wafts through the air as the candle flickers.

“This is amazing,” I reply.

He tilts his head, gesturing that he’s going back up, and waits for me to nod before leaving. His momma raised him well. I bet he’s a big momma’s boy.

After he’s out of sight, I spot a red canoe at the water’s edge, tempting me. Would it be rude? He offered this space for me to think…and the water looks so inviting.

I forget the phrase Pearl always used—something about asking for forgiveness later. He won’t mind. I’ve never been in a canoe. It can’t be hard, right? I pick up an oar and slide into the single seat. Now what? The canoe stays wedged between the water and the shore, half in and half out. To free it, I sway back and forth, using the oar to push off the ground. I groan at the stuck canoe.

What was I thinking?

I know how to canoe like I know how to surf—clueless and likely to end up drowning.

“Need some help?”

I yelp at the voice, twisting around. Paxton stands there with an amused expression.

Good, he’s smiling.

“Naw. I’m trying to see how a beached whale feels,” I joke.

His laugh echoes over the lake. “In that case, it’s my job to keep you wet.” Cold water splashes on me, running down my skin.

“Paxton!” I half yell, half laugh as I wipe my arms off. “You are mean, sir.”

“Kali, you have no idea.” He laughs.

He surprises me again with a quick shove. The ground releases me, and I’m floating atop the water. My fingers have a death grip around the sides of the canoe. The slightest movement makes the canoe tilt.

“What are the odds of this thing turning over if I move?” I inquire, frozen in place, afraid to even look back at Paxton.

A brief hum makes me regret taking it out. “You should be all right.”

“That doesn’t sound reassuring.” I chuckle nervously. I’m glad he finds this whole thing entertaining. I don’t. The water beneath me is murky, and I’d rather not find out what’s waiting for me below the surface or how deep it is.

“You can swim, right?”

“You’re not helping,” I quip, but thankfully the answer is yes. Yes, I can.

“Keep it steady, no sudden movements,” he says. I figured that much out myself. “Put the oar in the water to one side and glide it through the water.” I follow his instructions with minimal motion, but the canoe turns rather than goes forward.

“Shouldn’t I have two oars?” I ask as the canoe pivots, now facing Paxton. I lift the oar, hoping that will make it stop turning.

“You alternate sides,” he explains, gesturing the movement. Sounds simple enough. But it’d be easier with two oars, though. I try it out and move in a straight line. “I’m going to go finish dinner. Think you can stay out of the water?”

Switching between smiling and wincing and then smiling again, I nod, excited I’m getting the hang of it, but still afraid to move. I hadn’t noticed Riggs on the beach until he laid down, keeping his eyes trained on me. As I glide closer to the middle of the lake, I slow my strokes, letting the warmth of the sun blanket me. This is how I imagined it would be out here: quiet. Not dead quiet like my box, but a peaceful quiet. It’s freeing. Now and then, a cicada sends out its battle cry, but in between is where the magic happens.

I lie back—carefully—and watch the fluffy clouds morph into shapes above me, throwing me back in time. Summer days with my mom, a time when nothing was more important than our trips to the public pool and what friends were going to meet us there. I was na?ve to the evils of the world. They hadn’t invaded my life. Yet.

But right here, right now, this is…

Crack .

Shuffling sounds follow what seemed like someone stepping on a branch coming from the shoreline. The opposite shoreline. I jerk up, staring, gripping both sides of the canoe. Searching. Glancing back to Paxton’s side, Riggs is standing alert, staring at the same spot where the noise came from. Chills run up my back, and my arms and legs break out in goose bumps. I remember Zander’s words, “ Question things that seem out of place.”

Riggs barks, and it’s not a friendly bark. It’s a warning.

A warning for me to get the hell out of here.

With hurried, careful strokes, I navigate the canoe back toward Riggs, stealing glances over my shoulder every few seconds. Nothing like freaking out in the middle of a lake. Paxton is already at the shoreline when the canoe slices up the bank, pulling me in further and helping me out. My chest heaves with panic.

“What happened?”

“I think…” I turn, my gaze fixed on the spot, still seeing nothing but the dense cover of trees. I clear the panic from my throat. “I think someone was there. What if it’s…” My voice trails off. It doesn’t need to be said. He understands.

He looks down at Riggs, still barking, and then stares across the lake for a few moments. Riggs settles and sits. “It was probably a deer. He always goes crazy when he sees one.”

That makes sense. Of course, there’s wildlife all around here.

“Now I feel silly,” I say, shaking out my trembling hands.

He takes my hands in his. “I promise, you’re safe here.”

I’d like to believe that, but a madman is out there, and Paxton isn’t invincible. But I sigh and nod.

“I need to throw the steaks on the grill for a few minutes to finish dinner. Still hungry?”

More so now that I spent all my energy between fear and rowing like my life depended on it. “Before we eat, do you mind if I take a shower?” There’s a layer of wet dirt caked on my skin, a combination of dust and sweat. The thought of him being close, watching me, makes me feel violated.

“Not at all. Second door on the right is the guest bathroom. There’s shampoo and soap. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“That’s great. Thanks.”

The renovated bathroom gleams in sparkling white with clean lines, more of a modern flare. I’m certain it’s a stark contrast to the original design. I turn the faucet on, shedding my shirt, and cringe at the line of dirt where my shirt used to be. Gross. Despite knowing my clothes will still be dirty when I put them on, I won’t be. My eyes shift to the empty towel rack. Great. I check all the cabinets, finding no towels. Typical man. Not one towel in the guest bathroom. I hate bothering him, but there’s not even a rag I could use to dry myself off. Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I slip it back over my head and turn off the shower. As I’m about to round the corner, I overhear Paxton talking.

“If you could check it out for me.”

I peek around and see he’s on the phone, so I decide to wait for him to finish.

“There’s no way I’m leaving her, or I’d do it myself,” he murmurs into the phone.

My shoulders tense. Screw privacy. He’s talking about me. Leaning my ear forward, I shamelessly eavesdrop.

“Riggs doesn’t bark like that with other animals. He saw someone.”

I suck in a quick breath and yank my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. He lied. There’s a long pause while I assume the other person talks, or he heard me gasp.

“No. She’s taking a shower right now.” Another pause. “Shut it. Nothing is going on. I’m helping her out. I’m taking her back after dinner.”

I sigh, unsure if the dispelled air is because he lied to me or that he’s not into me. It shouldn’t be the latter, because what would I even do with a relationship right now? I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. Still, there’s a lingering sting of rejection.

Not caring anymore if he sees me, I step into the living area where he’s standing, staring out the window. Riggs glances up from his bed, causing Paxton to shift his attention to me. He plays it off.

“Okay, cool. Thanks for your help.” I wrap my arms around my waist, staring at him. “That was a quick shower.”

“Couldn’t find a towel.” I can’t hide the irritation.

He arches an eyebrow. “You heard.” It’s not a question. A low growl emerges from the back of his throat as he tucks his phone into his pocket. “I didn’t want to scare you. Well, more than you already were.”

A sarcastic laugh escapes my lips. He didn’t know my insides were exploding like the finale of a fireworks show. “That wasn’t possible.”

“Truthfully, I doubt it was him. Sometimes, people hike over there. There’s no way he would find you here. You have a new phone, so he can’t be tracking you.”

“Unless…”

There was a movie I watched with Ted. Divergent . That was fiction. My subconscious tries to reason with me. But what if it can be done?

The idea detonates into panic and erases any shred of sanity. I tear off my top and drop my shorts and stand nearly naked in front of his surprised expression. “Search me.”