“Careful.” Jackson reaches his hand out to steady me. “The rocks are a bit slippery.”
I hold on to him, just for balance, and focus on the mostly still water. The rocks are smooth beneath my feet, but with each step, the dirt from the bottom balloons out, clouding the water so I can no longer see through to the bottom.
“How do we catch them?”
“Be still.” Jackson’s eyes are bright as he scours the bank for movement. “Watch for the big rocks. They like to hide behind and underneath.”
“What makes them come out?” My eyes watch for any movement. “Us being still?”
“That, and they think our toes are food.” He squats low and dips one hand beneath the water’s surface.
“What?” My pulse quickens as a tiny creature with two big pinchers comes out from a rock and makes its way toward my baby toe. “Jackson!”
“Don’t worry,” He nabs the thing before it reaches my feet. “Got ’im.” His grin is proud as he stands and holds the little guy up for my approval. The crawdad snaps at the air, his little legs scrambling to grab purchase on something. “You wanna hold him?”
“Not particularly.”
“Oh, come on.”
I glance down at the water. While we’ve been admiring this creepy fellow, two of his friends have come out to seek revenge.
“Jackson!” I scream and jump back, narrowly avoiding the approaching crawdads. I escape, but not before my left foot slips on a rock.
I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact as soon as my balance is lost.
But instead of cold water, my body is wrapped in warm arms.
“Whoa.” Jackson yanks me into his chest. His voice is low. “Careful there.”
My breath catches. My pulse races. Every single fiber of my being becomes acutely aware of how good his body feels pressed to mine. My gaze lifts to his, then shifts to his lips. It’s as if he’s pulled me under some haze and I’m having a difficult time remembering why kissing him would be a bad idea.
His warning couldn’t be more pertinent.
Careful.
I shouldn’t want him to kiss me, but in this moment there’s nothing I want more. Which is precisely why I press my hands against his chest and take a step back.
“I don’t think crawdad catching is for me.”
Jackson stands before me, almost stunned, and I don’t know whether it’s because I pushed him away or almost kissed him. “Okay.” He recovers quickly. “How do you feel about water fights?”
My gaze is lethal as I take another step back. “Jackson. Don’t you dare.”
His grin is full of mischief as he takes a step forward. “Don’t I dare what?”
“I’m serious, Jackson.” I move away, but then realize I’m walking away from the bank—and my safety. Shit.
He crouches, scooping a handful of water and throwing it in my direction.
I scream and dodge most of it. But that only propels him to do it again. This time, he hits me squarely in the chest. Oh, no he didn’t! This is war!
Gathering the skirt of my dress in one hand, I use the other to send water flying right back. I don’t hold back, either, moving and splashing, sending as much as he gives until he’s as soaked as I am. The water actually feels refreshing, and his laughter booms over our splashes. I am relentless, and soon he’s shouting, “Truce!”
I’m smiling in spite of my wet clothes. “Okay, no more.” I walk toward him, sloshing through the knee-high water to get to the bank. “You called a truce.”
“I did.” He’s beaming, absolutely carefree and joyful. I don’t know how he does it. But part of me wishes I could bottle up his good temperament and take it for myself.
“Come on. Let’s head back.”
