Holy shit.
When we get to the take-out, an ambulance is waiting. We’re paid guests, but our group feels like more of a team. We assist with the gear and climb into the van.
Holy shit, I think again.
Maybe I should stick with cooking classes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Charlie
Rico checks inwith me after the raft trip. I’m a little horrified to hear about the harrowing experience they had. It was Colt’s first raft trip, and I didn’t want him soured on it. Rico says Colt was amazing. He saved a woman and a kid.
“Seriously?”
Rico nods. “In the thick of Devil’s Hole, like a pro. The Billings chicks were all over him. Talk about making their vacation.” He hands me his clipboard, which includes a full report of the outing. I’m a little stunned. I vaguely remember two scantily dressed college girls who’d checked in yesterday. One, the daughter of a senator, the other her friend. Tall, thin, twenty-one. Of course, they were all over Colt. The question burning in my throat, though: was Colt all over them? I know his reputation. I know how powerful his charm can be– first hand. Not to mention his looks… Even if he wasn’t a celebrity, he’d catch any woman’s eye.
And now he’s a hero too…
Stop it Charlie. He’s just a guest.
I’ve made that run about twenty times. Devil’s Hole is what makes it a class four. I want to read the report but I’m running late. If I want time to shower before meeting Colt. I need to get back to my cabin.
And I want to look my best. I want to… I’m not even sure what I want– or what to expect. What does an eight months pregnant woman expect on a date?
One who’s experienced more lustful thoughts in the past forty-eight hours than she has perhaps, in her entire life?
I rush back to my cabin. Shower, shaving practically everything from my waist down. What I can see, anyway. I slather on lotion, spritz perfume and apply what I hope is the perfect amount of makeup. Since I’m running out of time I weave one long braid that dangles down my back.
What I put on this body of mine, is a different matter altogether. I grab my phone. Hmm…
Me:You made it out alive, I hear.
I go back to my closet and examine my choices until my phone sounds with a text.
Colt:Disappointed?
I want to make a joke, but my heart won’t let me.
Me:Pleased.
The bubbles bounce around a few seconds and then stop. What’s he thinking? Has he changed his mind about taking me out?
After what feels like forever, he responds.
Colt:I’ve called for my truck. Are you ready?
Damn. Damn. Damn. I’m walking around in nothing but my bra and panties.
Me:Where are we going? I don’t know what to wear.
Colt:Wear something sexy.
Me:I’m not sure what that means at this stage of my life.
Colt:Tight. Short. Low cut.
Okaaaaaaay.
