Once Upon A Half-Time 1(46)
“Five minutes.”
I groaned. This was a disaster.
No rapids. No water falls. No unknowingly deep water crawling with sharp-tooth fish.
No parachutes. No harnesses. Hell, no tattoo parlors for twenty miles.
What was I supposed to do for four hours when we weren’t even sharing the same damn tube?
She snapped a picture of me. Apparently the river was tame enough for her to trust grabbing her brand new camera to document my misery.
“Smile, Lachlan.” She snapped another picture. “Say relaxation.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“Tell me.”
“You think it’s going to kill you to sit still for a few minutes. This will do you good. Haven’t you ever just relaxed before?”
She was unaware that holding her camera near her chest squeezed her tits until they nearly spilled from the bikini.
I chuckled. “You think I can relax this close to a half-naked woman?”
“You promised me fun today. Well guess what, Charming. This is fun.”
“There’s only two things I do laying down. One is sleep. And the other?” I sucked in a breath. “You’re a little too far away to partake in that adventure.”
Elle was mischievous when four feet of gentle, sun-warmed river separated us. “From what I can remember…you didn’t lie down that much.”
My cock twitched. “I live to serve. Want me to prove it?”
“Can’t we just enjoy this beautiful day?”
“I’d rather enjoy you.”
“This really is bothering you, isn’t it?” She giggled. “You need that daredevil excitement.”
“I don’t like being bored.” I splashed the water. “This is boring. Tits are not. Off with the suit.”
Elle wagged a finger. She refused to let the subject drop—even when surrounded by rivers and trees, little hopping birds and babbling brooks. Her gaze fixed on me.
“You don’t like to be bored,” she said. “Or sit still. Or be serious. Those, dear husband, are the clues to a greater mystery.”
“You don’t need a magnifying glass to examine anything on me, Red.”
“I bet…you have to keep moving. You need something to do. You keep finding bigger adventures to undertake because otherwise…you sit down and start thinking.”
“I know the joke is that all football players are idiots,” I said. “And it’s mostly true. But my brain does fire off a neuron between loads.”
“I never said you were dumb. But you don’t like to confront whatever it is that you think about when you aren’t drowning in rapids or jumping out of a plane.”
I stroked a hand through the water. It didn’t paddle me closer, just spun me in a circle. At least that was more entertaining than her dissecting my psyche.
Or admitting she was right.
I shrugged. “Guys aren’t that difficult to read. You don’t have to try so hard.”
“Not you…” She teased me with a smile. “You might have those charming dimples and puppy-dog excitement, but you’re hiding something more to you. Something deeper.”
“Like what?”
She snapped another picture of me, but the camera lowered slowly as she examined me. “I’m not sure yet. But no man runs off and gets married to a random stranger when his number one priority is family.”
“Blame it on the tequila.”
“Why did you marry me?”
I caught her foot as I spun, dragging her tube closer to mine. “Can’t we just agree both of us had a little too much to drink?”
“I think we were at the bar, and we were both upset.”
Damn. She was remembering more and more. I reached into the cooler floating beside us. She wanted a water, but I needed a beer for this conversation.
She arched an eyebrow. “What could possibly upset the carefree Lachlan Reed so much that he’d drink away his troubles at the bar with a stranger?”
Fuck me. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? “An ex-girlfriend had called me, right before the combine started. I guess she saw my name flash on Sports Nation and thought she’d try her luck.”
I thought I’d hidden the revulsion in my voice. Elle heard it though, and she paddled her feet, navigating the tube closer to me.
“What did she want?”
“Nothing that belonged to her. The usual—threats, demands, money. She’s not getting it though. Not a damn dime.” I exhaled, chasing the anger away. I never liked that ugly sort of rage. A smile was much more fun than a fist. “That day, she had just pissed me off. And the combine was already crazy stressful. I was hyped from the events and fitness tests, and then I saw a pretty woman taking pictures. I asked her to meet me for a drink. The rest is…fate.”