By the time Matthew stood up, Brooke’s little black shoes were already disappearing into the water that rippled outward, glinting up from a shallow stillness.
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
Last week, either they dove from an outcropping half this high or today’s waterfall was different, and monumental. Matthew grew dizzy peering down, waiting for Brooke to surface. When she didn’t come up, he decided to jump, not dive. Landing cannonball-style, his feet touched sharp boulders.
Searching for her, he plunged through the curtain of white water. He skimmed the shallow patches but even as he panicked, he half-suspected she was hiding nearby. She must be.
Diving in the freezing water, his fingers scraped a rock wall and he swam along the stony ground where it was too dark to see. Finally, his hand pushed through a scrim of muddy water and into a tunnel, from which light streaked.
Emerging, he found her standing on a grassy bank, staring over her shoulder; deliberately not looking at him, yet alert as he burst from the secluded pond. Adrenaline scrambled his senses, and he threw his dripping arms around her. “Brooke, thank God.” He crushed her against him until they toppled together onto the grass.
Now, his urgency surged unchecked: He kissed her face everywhere before his mouth found hers. His hands sought reassurance that she was unhurt—or did so initially. Soon, he cupped her breasts and kissed them through her bathing suit, his lips closing tight around one little hard nipple and then the other. He was lifting her small round bottom when she squirmed free, cursing him.
He stood, confused. “Brooke, I didn’t even know if you were alive.” He caught hold of her arm and pulled her again so their bodies pressed together, his palms spreading across her golden back. “Don’t scare me.” Rocking backward, he stroked the inside of her arms, thinking she had the softest skin of anyone born. “Promise me.”
“Fuck you, Matthew.”
“What?”
“You’re fooling with me.”
He asked her to sit beside him but she kept her distance and rested on her heels. “Fooling with you, Brooke? What else can I do?”
“Either you care about me or not. And if not,” she stood up, “then stop.”
“When we were in the meadow, you said you understood.”
“Well, that was before you said, ‘Sit on my lap and there might be a surprise.’”
“Sorry for being crude. But Brooke, you’ve no idea. I can hardly breathe when you’re near me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stared at him, her hip cocked farther than seemed possible.
He rose to his knees. “Are you double-jointed?”
She pushed Matthew backward so hard that water flew from his wet clothes. “Do you love me?”
“You’re sixteen years old.”
She stalked off but he leaped after her. “You know how I feel about you, Brooke. More than anyone. But until your birthday, we have to hide it.”
“I don’t like hiding my feelings.”
“Nobody does. But sometimes you have to.” He was leading her around to the waterfall, toward the ledge with her hat and skirt. But when he put his arm around her or tried to caress her ear, which she had said she liked, she shoved him away.
“You don’t need to steer me like I’m an animal. We’ll get my stuff and go to the house. Dexter’s waiting.”
Brooke’s fury seemed more endearing than threatening. Endearing anger—that was new.
Tara watched them marching stride for stride up the vivid green hillock. Except last week, Brooke’s hat bobbed along with Matthew’s shoulder. This week they kept closer but moved with a grim determination. Tara realized not only that they were angry but that Brooke, who set the pace, was far angrier.
Coming from the house, Tara’s mother Connie smiled, quivering slightly. “So that’s him.”
Dexter ran up, tugging Brooke’s hand. “I was getting worried.”
She smoothed his soft brown curls that were so much like Matthew’s. “Let me rinse off. And if you feel like tackling a really big hill, we’ll ride someplace special.”
Connie lifted four-year-old Ivy, who wanted to get down. “Don’t mind me,” she said, smiling at Matthew. “I’ll carry the little ones till they’re big enough to carry me.”
Tara introduced “Matthew” to “my mom.”
“I’m Connie,” she said, reaching around whining Ivy to shake Matthew’s hand.
“I’m so glad you can stay overnight with the kids.” Matthew nodded politely. “I’m more comfortable leaving them with an adult.”
Everyone encouraged Matthew to spend an extra night in the city, including Brooke, who reappeared with her wet hair braided. She wore a little blue skirt now and another navel-skimming T-shirt, this one striped. “Dexter and I are riding up to the sweat lodge,” she said. “But after I bring him home, I’d like to go home. If you can stay, Mom, and help with dinner and bedtime, the kids will get to know you.”
While Connie admitted she’d like nothing better, Brooke and Dexter stole toward the bike rack. But Brooke relented, hurrying back to Matthew and whispering, “Good luck, 007.”
(Click here to read the next episode)
