I leaned closer instead.
“Sitting on top?” My voice dropped to a murmur near her ear. “You’re not helping your case.”
The innuendo could be taken either way, depending on whether her mind was actually in the gutter. And judging from the flush on the back of her neck, it was.
Her fingers froze on the buckle. I watched her throat move as she swallowed, and my dragon pushed against my ribs with a hunger that nearly buckled my knees. The instinct to close the remaining inches, to press my mouth to the patch of warm skin just below her ear, settled inside me in a slow wave of heat.
I held perfectly still. Every nerve in my body locked down around the impulse, containing it, because this moment wasn’t about what I wanted. It was about what she’d let herself want.
I counted her breaths. One. Two. She didn’t pull away.
On the third breath, she leaned back. The motion was barely perceptible, a fraction of an inch, her shoulder blades settling closer to my chest. My heart slammed so hard I was sure she could feel it through the life jacket.
“You missed a buckle.” I reached around her left side and found the lower clip, fastening it with hands that had no business being steady. My forearm grazed her hip. She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth.
I stepped away before I did something irreversible, like wrapping both arms around her and not letting go for the rest of the afternoon.
“All set.” I cleared my throat. “Let’s get you in the water.”
She turned around. Her cheeks were blazing, her brown eyes wide, and she looked like a woman who had just been caught thinking something she had no intention of sharing.
I walked to her kayak and crouched beside it, gripping the edge of the cockpit with both hands to hold it steady against the sand. The hull sat half in the water, half on shore, rocking gently with the small waves lapping at the beach.
“Step in with your right foot first, then lower yourself down.” I tilted the kayak to show her the seat. “Keep your weight centered.”
She approached with the cautious determination of someone defusing an explosive. Her sandal hovered over the opening. She shifted her weight, wobbled, and grabbed the edge.
Every instinct I had screamed for me to scoop her up and place her in the seat. My hands twitched on the hull. I could lift her easily, one arm around her waist, and she’d be settled in two seconds flat with zero risk of falling.
I locked my jaw and held the kayak.
She needed to do this herself. I’d watched her long enough to understand that every small thing she accomplished on her own terms was a brick in a wall she was rebuilding. I wasn’t going to yank one out because my inner reptile had zero patience.
Her right foot landed in the hull. The kayak shifted, and I braced harder, my shoulders absorbing the rocking motion so it stayed level. Her hand found my shoulder for balance, fingersgripping tight, and the contact sent a jolt of heat straight down my spine.
“You’re good. Just lower down.”
She dropped into the seat with more grace than she’d probably give herself credit for. Her hand left my shoulder, and the loss of it hit immediately.
I pushed the kayak forward until the hull cleared the sand and floated free, then grabbed my own and slid it into the water beside hers in one practiced motion. I climbed in, dipped my paddle, and pulled alongside her.
“Match my stroke.” I demonstrated a slow, even pull. “Don’t fight the water. Work with it.”
She dug the paddle in too deep on the first stroke, and the kayak lurched sideways. She overcorrected, splashing water across her knees. A curse slipped out under her breath that made me grin.
“Shallower angle.” I adjusted my pace to stay beside her. “You’re stabbing the lake. It didn’t do anything to you.”
“The lake and I are still negotiating our relationship.” She tried again, and this time the blade sliced cleanly through the surface. The kayak glided forward in a smooth line.
“There you go.” Pride swelled in my chest, fierce and entirely out of proportion to the moment.
We paddled in silence for a few minutes. The tension in her shoulders loosened with each stroke, her rhythm steadying as muscle memory took over from anxiety. She stopped death-gripping the paddle and let her wrists relax. Her breathing evened out.
I fell back a half-length so I could watch her without making it obvious. The afternoon light hit her at an angle that made something behind my sternum ache.
The October trees blazed orange and crimson along the shoreline, their reflections shimmering across the water in long,liquid streaks. Liz cut through the center of all that color, her dark hair catching the sun, her profile sharp and focused against the backdrop of fire-colored leaves.
She looked like she belonged in this landscape. Like the mountains had been waiting for her. It made my dragon settle into a low, contented hum that resonated through my bones.
