First There Was You

Chapter 31: Greyson

July 19

Minett, Muskoka

It's a slow, hot day at the marina. There isn't a hint of wind today, and the sun is beating down on us.

I've already stripped to my shorts, in a vain attempt to find relief from the sweltering heat.

Elle's washing boats in her bathing suit, and, even from here, I can see the sweat glistening on her body, her skin pinkening under the sun, which means she's forgotten to reapply her sunblock. Again.

I finish stacking the full propane tanks in the large cage and lock it, walking through the shop to drop the keys with Hunter. "I'm going to grab a quick swim. It's like a damn inferno out there." I use my t-shirt hanging on the back of the desk chair to wipe the sweat from my face and neck before Hunter gives me a thumbs up from his phone call.

I check the temperature on the old thermometer as I walk by, it's thirty-four degrees celsius today. There is absolutely no wind, and no relief from the heat.

Stopping to lean against the trailered boat Elle's standing on, I watch as she rinses the suds from the now sparkling white deck after hours of scrubbing. When it had arrived, it was stained, dusty, moldy, and rusty watermarks had streaked the sides from the metal fixtures.

"Feel like grabbing a swim?" Elle jumps at the sound of my voice, and I smile up at her sheepishly, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"Give me a minute to pack this stuff up." She packs her cleaning supplies into a box, then hands it down to me, going back for the scrub brush and large microfiber towels she's used, passing those down too.

I store the lot of it back in the mechanic's bay, nodding to our mechanic, Dan, on the way by. He usually works shifts at the other two marina locations, but he's been hanging here for the past couple weeks. I'm not so fond of the guy, something about him gives me the creeps. He's a rough, crude, townie brawler, always bragging about his tattoos and local boxing or mixed martial arts league fights.

Mostly, I just hate the way he looks at Elle.

When I walk back down the dock, Elle is swinging her legs over the boat's side, shimmying towards the small stepladder. It's the tallest one we have, and still, it's a big stretch for her to climb down. I step forward and grab her hips, lifting her down and setting her on her feet.

Her sweet smile makes my heart skip a beat, and she turns her face up to mine, expectantly. I can't resist, pressing my lips to hers for a quick kiss, nudging her towards the water. I dive straight in and nearly weep in pleasure. It's probably ten degrees colder in the water, and it feels like heaven.

Floating on my back, drifting back towards the dock in the waves, I turn my head to watch Elle dip her toes, painted bright red today, into the water. The habit makes me smile every time. Even her toes can drive me crazy. She sits on the edge of the dock, ready to slide in. I grab her ankle, stopping her.

Near the dock, it's shallow enough for me to stand on the slippery, rocky bottom. I find my footing and pull her into my arms, lifting her off the dock. I glide slowly through the water to duck behind the shelter of one of the parked boats. I feel the sigh of pleasure roll through her as the cool water rises to her shoulders.

She leans back in my arms to dip her hair in the water. A smile spreads over her face as she closes her eyes in bliss. I'm more focused on her chest, that's now arched up towards my face as she leans back. My throat goes dry, and I swallow convulsively. She is so beautiful, and she doesn't even know the effect her body has on me. Every casual move from her might as well be a carefully crafted seduction.