I waved at the kids, taking off down the trail that led to the water’s edge to find my girl and congratulate her on one stellar jump.
I met her at the shore just as she was climbing out, cold water dripping off her body, a gigantic smile spreading her round cheeks.
“That was incredible. You should try it.”
I wrapped my jacket around her shoulders, as concerned she’d catch a cold as much as I was of someone seeing her in a suit so damn small. “I’m super-good with living, thanks.”
She shook her head, pressing up on her toes and planting a kiss on my lips. “Thanks for bringing me.”
“Your lips on mine is all the thanks I need.”
Her cheeks turned a warm shade of crimson before I led her into the sunlight, the flat face of a giant boulder the perfect place for us to spread out. I stripped out of my shirt, laying it down on the rock before settling us both back onto it, my arms cradling her from the rough edges.
“So did you go to school for swimming?”
She looked up, surprise etched on her face. “No. No pool at the school I was at, so it wasn’t even an option.”
I thought of her parents and all they’d taken away from her that night.
And then I thought of all they may have given her.
I didn’t think I was in a place to give her anything—I hardly was now, but there was no doubt I wasn’t then.
My mind trailed back to all the nights after the fire I’d had to help my dad in and out of bed, feed him his medication, and help him with therapy. My sister and I had taken on the job full time, and it’d nearly sunk both of us.
No way could I have been there for her in those moments.
“You know the song about the old willow?” she whispered, voice warm with sun and memories.
“Yeah.” I traced circles along her bare shoulder, fingertips dipping in and out of the little black bikini strap that held the triangles in place.
“What made you write that one?”
I heaved a breath, remembering the night in Nashville I’d drained a bottle of cheap rye and wrote my heart out, furious tears in my eyes as the music torched every raw nerve. “That one’s about my dad, actually.”
She stayed silent for long beats, one china-white calf contrasted against the dark of my jeans as she pondered what to say next. “I really like that one.”
I nodded, waiting long moments before adding, “He never went to church, so the pastor wouldn’t give him a proper service, but he did offer to speak if I found a burial site. Turns out a person should be a part of a community to be buried in one.” I shrugged. “No one wants a drifter.”
The words hung thick between us.
“So I found the only place in all of Tennessee I decided I wouldn’t mind seein’ again. Under that old willow at the back of the field we used to go to.”
Tears welled up in her troubled eyes before she spoke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I think that’s the greatest regret I have.”
“Ah, Augusta Belle, life’s too short to fuss about regrets.” I swallowed my own ball of regret fighting to consume me.
“S’pose we should get back on the road,” I breathed, eyes shuttering closed under the warm sunlight.
“Want me to drive for a while?” she offered, clasping our fingers together and doing her best to pull me off the rock.
I gave in, stretching as I stood up, her small little arms locking around my waist and holding me in a tight hug.
My measured breaths seemed to soothe her as our chests moved in sync, my hands working into the long, wet locks of her hair as my chin hovered just above the crown of her head. “Honey and peaches, damn I missed that smell.”
Her arms locked a little tighter around my waist, fingertips digging into the flesh under my T-shirt as soft sobs began a slow shake of her shoulders.
“You okay?” I whispered at her ear, feeling a torrent of shivers race through her body when my body drifted so close to hers.
