I step out of my flip-flops and drop the paddleboard into the still lake water.
There are a few boats out now, I see, but I’m gonna just mind my own business.
On the paddleboard,I begin to maneuver over the water, enjoying myself, taking in the big lake and working up a sweat, relaxed in ways I often am not—the water is the closest I feel to family.
People wonder why I’m always in a boat or on a board—after the hell I went through in losing my entire family—but I figure being on the water is a way I can stay connected to them. It’s why I have a houseboat on Lake Washington, over in Seattle. Why I make kayaks and surf over in Westport—the water is where I lost everyone I love. So staying close to it makes me feel less alone.
I’m out there for over an hour, maybe longer. And by the time I’m headed back toward the house, I’m starved.
When I get back to my dock, though, I'm surprised to see a woman standing there with her arms crossed, scowling at me.
And not just any woman.
The woman of my fucking dreams.
With my oar in the water, I move closer toward the dock. The last thing I want to do is scare her away.
As I inch closer, I watch her watching me. I call out, “Can I help you?”
“Uh, yeah,” she says. “I was wondering why you're at my dock, and why your stuff, your shoes and your phone—what’s it doing here?”
“I live here,” I say, “in that house.” I nod to my new lakefront property. “I just moved in a few days ago.”
“You moved in a few days ago?” she repeats. If she'd smile she'd be fucking gorgeous. She's got this curly brown hair and delicate features; a perfect body that is so sexy she’d look fucking indecent if she stripped out of that sundress and put on a bikini.
Hell, she could get on this paddleboard with me and I’d take us out to the center of the lake. We could sit there all damn day.
But she's not interested in that. Not right now. Her hands are on her hips. She's glaring.
“Well,” she scoffs. “I don't understand what you're doing on my dock.”
“It's our dock,” I say. “It was in the listing. The lady who sold me the house told me we share it. How did it work with the last people who owned this property?”
“No one's lived here for like 15 years. It was the Nelsons’ place but they let it go. They just had it renovated to put up for sale; they all moved to Vermont a decade ago.”
“Okay,” I say. “Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that.”
“Well, I don't either,” she says, frowning. “Honestly, the Nelsons were never here so if it was a shared dock, I never would have known.” She sighs, giving in to the reality that I’m right. “Who are you, anyways?”
“I'm Anchor,” I tell her.
She presses her lips together, pushing them forward. They're cute. Pink. Fucking kissable, and I realize I'm really fucking horny. I’ve been waiting my whole life to be turned on like this.
And the only thing I can think when I look at her is how much I want to wrap my arms around her and justrelax.
We're at the lake. It's vacation.
But she doesn't want to relax.
“What'syourname?” I ask.
“Lemon Rough,” she says.
“Nice to meet you, Lemon.” Pushing the oar through the water so I can move closer, I’ve never been more eager to get on a dock in my fucking life. “Sorry to intrude on the dock you've been enjoying all this time, but I think we have to share it now. Until you can build yourself a new one.” I give her a grin.
“You want me to build myself a new dock?”
I chuckle. “Hell no, I’m fine to share with you, but looks like you might have an issue with me.”