“Well, good thing they're not here,” she says with a smile. Then she pushes herself away from the table and stands. She lets her cover-up fall to the floor. “I know I've been to your lake house before,” she says with a smile, “but how about you give me the tour anyways.”
5
LEMON
I'm being brazenly confident, self-assured, in a totally out of character way. Yes, I'm confident—but this is next level. I'm standing up, asking this man to give me a grand tour of his house.
Ready for him to lead me straight to the bedroom to do things I am wildly unprepared for.
I smile as he walks toward me. I take one step but my foot catches on the edge of the burlap rug.
I begin to catapult forward. Anchor catches me in his arms, but as he does, the ties of my bathing suit bottoms catch on the back of the chair, releasing the strings.
“Oh my god,” I say as Anchor has me in his arms and my bottoms are precariously hanging from one side of my ass.
Anchor grins down at me.
I close my eyes, mortified. And horrified. And actually pleased.
I start laughing because what else am I supposed to do in this moment? But the laugh is more of a snort because, well, that's how I do things.
Put it all out there on the table.
Anchor laughs as I stand up straight, reaching for my bathing suit ties and double knotting them. “There we go,” I say, “much better.”
“Why?” he says. “I thought you looked pretty good with them half off.”
“Really?” I ask, giving him a sidelong look.
“Yeah, and when you were diving into my arms I thought we were headed in a great direction.”
I laugh again. “Man, you grill me a ribeye steak and feed me potatoes. And my favorite white wine is pinot grigio. Extra points there. And then I practically tear my own clothes off before we get to the bedroom. This is a pretty good date. Wouldn't you say?” I laugh.
But he isn’t laughing. He's looking at me. Like really looking at me. “Where did you come from, Lemon? I mean, I know you came from Home but you're fucking spectacular.”
“Stop it,” I say, knowing my cheeks are bright red and my body is lit up in ways it never has been before. “Where did you come from? I feel like you know all about me after that meal. And I know nothing about you.”
We circle the house. He shows me the great room, the kitchen, the hallway, which leads to the bedrooms.
“Upstairs is the master,” he tells me. I swallow.
He ushers me up the steps.
“Hey, you're watching my ass like you did on the dock.”
“Hell ya, I am,” he says unabashedly. “Yes, your ass is fucking fantastic. I thought that when you were in that sopping wet dress earlier, and now, fuck, Lemon, you're in this teeny-tiny bikini? Yes, I'm watching you walk up the stairs.”
My belly flip-flops at that because he's confident in a way that appeals to me. That makes me feel beautiful and wonderful and giddy. In a way that makes me feel seen. I haven't been invisible in my family, but let's face it, when there are seven kids, everyone's always elbowing for center stage. And I have had to speak up and play the part of the crotchety older sister to find my place at the table.
I haven't always been the most fun. I haven't always been the most outgoing or the most entertaining or the funny one. I've been the sensible, reliable Lemon.
But Anchor doesn't see that. He thinks I'm sexy and funny.
And his hands are on my hips as we reach the top of the stairs. And he spins me around.
“You never answered my questions,” I tell him. “You never told me a thing about yourself. I need something if we've gotten all the way up to the master bedroom. If I'm thinking about all of these things I want to happen next….” I lick my lips. “I need to know more about you. I don't even know your last name.”
He places his hands on my waist, keeping me in place. “I'm Anchor Malone.”
“Nice to meet you, Anchor Malone,” I say.
He exhales at that. “I've had some good fortune and I've had some bad luck. My family, they're gone. I've done well in business. I've made a lot of money. I've invested it well. I had a chance at fame. It didn't suit me.”
“Really?” I look up at him then I reach up, running a hand through his hair. It's thick and dark. And I have this wild thought of how handsome his children would be. Strong, sturdy. Solid.
I swallow the thought stunning me because he's the kind of man I could see myself with.
He's the kind of man you could drop anchor with