He smiled. "Am I likely to get you pregnant?"
"No. But there are other things."
"Neither of us is promiscuous. We've both learned the hard way that sex is too important."
"What do you call that?" She jabbed her hand toward the floor.
"Passion." He nodded toward the quilt pieces spilling from her basket. "Let me see what you're working on."
She couldn't imagine permitting a genius like Liam Jenner to see her simple craft project. Shaking her head, she made her way toward the door, but just before she got there, something made her stop and turn back.
He stood watching her. A smudge of blue paint marked his thigh near his groin. He was naked and magnificent.
"You were right," she said. "I'm fifty!"
His soft reply followed her out of the house and down the road.
"Too old to be such a coward."
Chapter 17
Daphne packed her most necessary things: sunblock, a pair of lollipop-red water wings, a box of Band-Aids (because Benny was going to camp, too), her favorite crunchy cereal, a very loud whistle (because Benny was going to camp, too), crayons, one book for every day she'd be gone, opera glasses (because you never knew what you might want to see), a beach ball that said FORT LAUDERDALE, her plastic bucket and shovel, and a great big sheet of bubble wrap to pop if she got bored. Daphne Goes to Summer Camp
By Tuesday, Molly was worn out from the ups and downs of working on Daphne Goes to Summer Camp as well as trying to keep Kevin entertained. Not that he'd asked to be entertained. In fact, he'd turned surly after their Saturday-night dinner and gone out of his way to avoid her. He even had the gall to behave as if she were imposing on him. She'd had to threaten to go on strike to get him to come with her today.
She should have left him alone, but she couldn't. The only way she could make him change his mind about selling the Wind Lake Campground was to convince him that this was no longer the boring place of his childhood. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to convince him of a thing so far, which meant it was time to make her next move. Resigned, she forced herself to her feet.
"Look, Kevin! In the trees over there!"
"What are you doing, Molly? Sit down!"
She gave a jump of excitement. "Isn't that a Kirtland's warbler?"
"Stop!"
All it took was one more small jump and the canoe tipped.
"Aw, shit!"
They tumbled into the lake.
As she went under, she thought about the earth-shattering kiss they'd exchanged three days ago. Ever since then he'd kept his distance, and the few times they'd been together, he was barely civil. Once she'd told him she wouldn't sleep with him, he'd lost interest in her. If only…
If only what, you dope? If only he were banging his fists on your bedroom door every night begging you to change your mind and let him in? Like that would ever happen.
But couldn't he look as if he were suffering from a little of the lust that had her tossing in her bed the last three nights until she thought she'd scream? It had even affected her writing. This morning Daphne had told her best friend Melissa the Wood Frog that Benny was looking particularly sexy that day! Molly had thrown down her notebook in disgust.
She felt above her head for the capsized canoe's gunwale, then swam beneath it. With a kick she came up into the air pocket beneath the hull, which was just big enough for her head. This drowning thing was going to turn her into a prune.
She knew it would be easy to regain his attention. All she had to do was undress. But she wanted to be something more to him than another sexual fling. She wanted to be…
Her mind balked, but only for a moment. A friend, that was it. She'd just begun to value their friendship when he'd grown surly. There wouldn't be any chance of reestablishing that relationship if they went to bed together.
Once again she forced herself to remember that Kevin wouldn't be much of a lover. Yes, he was a great kisser, and yes, he'd been asleep during their brief, ill-fated sexual encounter, but she'd already observed that he wasn't really a sensualist. He never lingered over his food. He didn't savor the wine or take the time to appreciate the presentation of the meal on his plate. He ate efficiently and his table manners were flawless, but food wasn't anything more than body fuel to him. Besides, how much energy did a gorgeous multimillionaire pro athlete really need to invest into developing his skills as a lover? Women lined up to please him, not the other way around.
Face it: The sex she wanted to have with him was romantic fantasy sex, and she wasn't willing to sell her soul for that. Despite three nights of tossing and turning, despite the embarrassing heat that made her knees turn goofy at the most inopportune moments, she didn't want an affair. She wanted a real relationship. A friendship, she reminded herself.
She'd just begun to imagine how a pair of dripping bunny ears would look peeking out from beneath a capsized canoe when Kevin's head surfaced next to her. It was too dark beneath the hull to see his expression, but the anger in his voice came through loud and clear.
"Why did I know I'd find you here?"
"I got disoriented."
"I swear, you're the most uncoordinated person I've ever met!" He rudely grabbed her arm and yanked on it, pulling her back underwater. They resurfaced in the daylight.
It was a beautiful afternoon on Wind Lake. The sun shone, and the gem-blue water mirrored a single fluffy cloud floating in the sky above like one of Molly's meringue cookies that hadn't gotten burned on the bottom. Kevin, however, looked more than a little stormy.
"What the hell were you thinking of? When you blackmailed me into coming out here, you told me you knew all about canoeing!"
As she treaded water, she was glad she'd remembered to leave her sneakers at the dock, which was more than he'd done. But then, he hadn't possessed her insider's knowledge of where they'd end up.
"I do know about canoeing. My last summer at camp I was in charge of taking out the six-year-olds."
"Are any of them still alive?"
"I don't know why you're being so grouchy. You like to swim."
"Not when I'm wearing a Rolex!"
"I'll buy you a new one."
"Yeah, right. The point is, I didn't want to come canoeing today. I had work to do. But all weekend, whenever I tried to get something done, you'd decide a burglar was trying to break into the cottage, or you couldn't concentrate on cooking unless you went cliff diving. This morning you nagged me into playing catch with your poodle!"
"Roo needs exercise." And Kevin needed someone to play with.
He hadn't been able to sit still all weekend. Instead of giving in to the spell of Wind Lake and reconnecting with his heritage, he was working out or trying to pound away his restlessness with hammer and nails. Any moment she expected him to hop into his car and drive off forever.
Just the thought of it depressed her. She couldn't leave here, not yet. There was something magical about the campground. Possibilities seemed to shimmer in the air. It felt almost enchanted.
Now he swam toward the stern of the capsized canoe. "What are we supposed to do with this thing now?"
"Can you touch bottom?"
"We're in the middle of a frickin' lake! Of course I can't touch bottom."
She ignored his surliness. "Well, our instructor once taught us a technique to turn over a canoe. It's called the Capistrano Flip, but-"
"How do you do it?"
"I was fourteen. I can't remember."
"Then why did you mention it?"
"I was thinking out loud. Come on, I'm sure we can manage."
They finally righted the canoe, but their technique, which was based mostly on Kevin's brute strength, left the hull full of water and partially submerged. With nothing to use as a bailer, they were forced to paddle back that way, and Molly was gasping for breath by the time she'd finished helping him haul it up onto the beach. She'd never been a quitter, though.