She began again, her southern accent unfamiliar, yet endearing. “I’m Pam, by the way. Not short for Pamela. It’s really Patricia, but, my momma loves to tell the story of how I couldn’t say my T’s when I was little, so instead of Patty I’d say Pammy, and everyone started calling me Pammy as a little joke, but it stuck. And then that got shortened further to Pam.”
I was smiling throughout all of this, fascinated by anyone who was able to talk so much and so quickly, but I tried to stifle my laughter when she got closer and whispered, “Ron loves my name. When he gets theurge,he comes up behind me—you knowmen—and says to me, ‘Can I have a little Pam, Pam, thank you ma’am?’ We heard that somewhere once, and he cannot get enough of it.”
“Well, my name’s Katelynn, but my nickname Kate is as boring as it gets,” I said in reply.
“Pam’s nothing special on its own. But we give our names their specialness, don’t we?”
“That’s right,” I agreed, if only to be friendly. Special?Me? I looked around and saw that Colin was watching me with an easy grin.
“What is it?” I asked, sidling up next to him as we began our walk to the dock.
“I can’t take my eyes off you,” he said. “That’s all. I like to admire you, even from afar.”
I’d been keeping an eye on him as well. Even when he wasn’t in my direct line of sight, I sensed his presence. It was as if we had a thin string attaching us to each other, pulling at me every few seconds, demanding I identify where he is and whathe’s doing. I observed his interactions and was fascinated by his reactions. He was much more casual here at his summer house, but whenever he was around his father or the board members, he stood a little taller. Sounded more like “work Colin.”
I wanted to validate him, to tell him I, too, admired him. That I couldn’t think of anything or anyone else, really. But we were shortly interrupted by Colin’s brothers, who roped Colin into reminiscing about their past fishing competitions.
“I’ve always been the best fisherman, and don’t pretend that’s not common knowledge,” Landon declared.
“You’ve always been theluckiest,” Stephen scoffed.
Colin nodded. “In fishing and beyond.”
We were boarding, going in one-by-one, and Pam took me by the arm, insisting we have some girl talk and let the men do “their fishing thing.”
The men inspected the fishing rods and bait that had been pre-assembled on the boat (or should I say yacht?), and I kept catching Colin’s eye. I tried to keep up with Pam’s conversation, but that was mostly me agreeing or answering a couple of words while she rattled on. A wink here and there from Colin showed me I was forefront on his mind as well.
When the boat began to move, Colin walked over and excused us from Pam for a few moments. He took me inside, where there was a small seating area and another door.
“I figured you might need a break,” he said. We sat down, and he put his arm around me.
“You’re very perceptive,” I said.
“I want you to be comfortable. And happy.”
My heart swelled at the words.
“That’s so nice to hear,” I said.
“It’s the truth. Last night was amazing. This morning was the cherry on top. You’re so beautiful and sensual. Touching you, feeling you, wanting you. It’s all I can think about, honestly. I’dtake you into the bedroom there right now if it wasn’t rude to disappear for an hour or so.”
His voice was husky. It was casting a spell on me, and I closed my eyes to answer.
“I’m not the best at communicating my feelings. It’s easier for me to tell you I would love to have you rip off my shorts right here, right now. But I do want to tell you this is about a lot more than sex for me.”
He smiled in a way that I hadn’t seen before. Was it—hope?
“The way you look at me—like you actually see me, not my last name or what I run—I don’t get that often. And it scares the hell out of me because this is so much more than sex for me too,” he responded before passing a finger along my jaw and drawing our faces together. I’d never had a sweeter kiss before, ending with our foreheads resting against each other and nervous, soft laughter.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Aknock (and Stephen’s face at the window) signified it was time for us to rejoin the group. Colin gave a loud, disapproving grunt and led us back outside. He pulled me toward him and spoke into my ear, “I can’t wait to get you alone later. And tonight, I’ll make sure you get the best night’s sleep of your life,” before walking toward his brothers, who had his fishing pole.
It took a moment for the shivers running up and down my spine and into my fingers and toes to mellow out.
I walked around making small talk. It was a bit nerve-wracking speaking to Mr. Gordon, but he seemed to have only one persona. It was an expeditious back-and-forth with him about how I liked Brightwater Island, and then he was on to the next topic, and then he was on to the next person.
On observation, it seemed like Charles Gordon was equally surface-level with his sons. He never hunkered down in one spot. He abandoned his fishing pole as soon as it was set up and sauntered around as well. It was funny to watch him maneuver his conversation with Pam, who would have kept anyone around for ten minutes, into about two minutes of chit-chat.
