A Penny's Worth (The Cephas Bourdon Series) (6 page)

“You know, I should probably thank you,” I began, trying to move the oar in the way he showed me.

“Why’s that?” he whispered, trailing his hand up the length of my arm.

“Most guys would have tried something stupid by now.” The scruff on his cheek rubbed slowly along my neck. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, smelling his aftershave.

“I don’t know how long that’s going to last,” he muttered. I ignored the feel of his mouth along my shoulder and moved the oar deep through the water. The boat actually began moving forward!

“I’m doing it!” I exclaimed, a bright smile flooding my elated face. “I’ve never been able to use these before!” Cephas abruptly stopped the motion of the oar in my hand and sat still.

“So all that talk about how great you were
—”

“I’m a good liar,” I jeered, trying to move the oar.

“I don't think that's something you want to be good at,” he retorted, his strong arms holding mine motionless.

“What do you
want
to be good at?” I asked, finally relenting.

“What do
I
want to be good at?” he asked me, skimming his lips along my neck. “I'm already good at everything.” I stretched my shoulders, hoping physical motion would relieve some of the tension slicing through the air right then.

“That's not true,” I scoffed, not wanting him to stop.

“Are you sure?” he whispered back, his mouth near my ear. I turned toward him and saw the smirk on his face. The boat rocked and I could see the water out of the corner of my eye. A rather large set of waves was coming toward us.

“Cephas,” I said.

“You're not sure?” he asked, his face moving closer to mine.

“No, I
—
there's
—
”

“Why are you so nervous?” he asked, tipping his head in toward my mouth.

“Because
—
Cephas, the water!” I shouted. A large wave crashed against the boat. Cephas was leaning toward me, throwing off the weight of the canoe. Before I had time to react, the entire canoe flipped over into the dark lake. Water instantly surrounded my head and I flailed my arms in an attempt to regain the surface. All was suddenly quiet, except for the bubbles rushing around my face. The water swooshed past my ears, throwing off my balance. Unable to decipher up from down, my body flailed hopelessly through the dark water. I began rushing toward the surface before I could orient myself. Popping out of the water, my hand flew out instinctively to grab the bottom of the canoe. I coughed violently, trying to remove the water from my lungs. I felt a strong arm pull me a little ways out of the water. Cephas was holding onto me with one hand, the other clinging to the canoe.

“Are you okay?” he asked between coughs. His arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against his body. Nodding, I looked over his sopping wet clothes and dripping wet face. I began giggling, unable to resist the urge to laugh out loud. His worried look turned to a grin and he chuckled.

“You did that on purpose, didn't you?” I accused. Cephas released me and swam to the front of the canoe and began pulling us to shore. My waist was cold where
Cephas’
warm hand had been. I held on to the boat and let my body relax as Cephas pulled us to dry ground.

“Right, because that was clearly my objective.”

“What was your objective?” I asked slyly. He was silent: I could picture the left corner of his mouth twitching upward. When the water was only a few feet deep I stood from my floating position and called to Cephas across the canoe.

“Do you want to lift it now?” I suggested, heaving my end upward. His eyebrows raised and he lifted his end.

“Wow, who knew you had any muscles,” he replied, walking up the beach.

“What, you couldn't see them popping through my sleeves?” I asked innocently. He was silent again, carrying his end of the canoe.

“I’m serious
—
I wouldn’t have tried to throw you into the water when it’s so cold. Besides, I’m soaked,” he grumbled. He looked down at his wet clothing in disgust. I felt a drop of water on my face and looked up into the sky. Two more drops hit my cheek and I smiled.

“I love summer rain,” I commented. “It’s so warm
—
I just want to twirl in it.” My eyes closed automatically and I tilted my head skyward. “Isn’t it so romantic?”

We walked up the beach and dropped the canoe. Cephas wasted no time in peeling his wet shirt from his body, revealing a smooth, bronzed chest. I averted my eyes and took a step around the canoe, reminding myself I had a boyfriend. I jumped. Sometime in the commotion of waves my sandals had fallen off, exposing my foot to a sharp rock just beneath the surface of the beach. A small yelp escaped my lips. Cephas turned around.

“What happened?”

“I just stepped on a sharp rock
—
I
—
my flip flops must have fallen off when the canoe flipped over. I'll be fine.” I hobbled a little ways and looked up. Cephas was standing still, arms folded, smirk flashing.

“Don't make fun of me.” He strode over to me and turned around, his back toward me.

“Get on,” he offered, his voice drawling out in annoyance.

“No, I'm fine
—
really.” I wasn't about to hop on his back.

“Do it, or I'll carry you in my arms,” he threatened, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh, fine,” I acquiesced, placing my hands on his shoulders. I bent my knees and sprung onto his back. He grabbed my legs and held me in place, piggy
—
backing me up the shore. He jogged a little ways up the sand and walked up the rocks into the trees.

“I can't believe you tipped over the canoe,” I said, making fun of him.

“I didn't mean to,” he complained.

"Are you embarrassed, Mr. Perfect?" I asked in jest.

"Mr. Perfect?" he asked. I could tell from his tone that he was regaining his wit.

"Oh, yes. You've got charisma, good looks, and you're practically perfect at everything
—
or so you think."

"So you think I'm perfect, huh?" he asked, lifting me higher on his back.

"No, I said
you
think you're perfect."

"I do not!" he replied indignantly.

"Oh, but your eyes deceive you."

"So what if I am perfect?" he acceded, carefully setting my feet down on the ground. He turned around just two steps in front of me.

"I already found a flaw," I smiled.

"What's that?" he asked, taking a step toward me. I took a step back.

"You're too easily smitten by me," I replied. He raised his eyebrows, taking another step toward me. His face was very close to mine
.
I sucked in a deep breath to fill my struggling lungs. I never seemed to have the upper hand, even when I tried. Cephas always seemed to have under his thumb, effortlessly making me willing to acquiesce to any request he might make.

"So what if I am?" he replied, that mischievous smile inching from the corner of his mouth. I swallowed, taking another step backward
—
right onto a large rock. Tripping clumsily, I fell backward toward the ground, but Cephas caught me before I landed on my back. He erupted into laughter.

"You did that on purpose!" I exclaimed, unable to squelch a giggle as he pulled me to a standing position.

"Perhaps," he replied affably. My jaw dropped as he spun on his heels and lifted me onto his back. He began walking briskly in between the trees.

"Let's play truth or dare," he started.

“What are we
—
ten year old girls?”

“Come on,” he coaxed. “It's a good way to find out about a person.”

“Do you do this with all the girls you meet?” I asked.

“Just play,” he complained, ignoring my question.

"K, you first,” I agreed, clinging to his shoulders.

"Do you want truth or dare?" he asked, excitement lacing his voice.

"Truth, 'cause I'm kind of a baby," I responded truthfully.

"Okay, but you can choose truth only twice, and then you have to choose dare."

"Deal."

"Okay," he began, "who was your first love?" He stopped jogging and slowed to walk down the path. Had he been thinking about that? He didn't even stop to think before asking the question. I usually lied in this game, or chose not to play, but something about Cephas made me want to tell him every
thing about myself. I
t was probably his captivating eyes, or perhaps the closeness of our bodies. His hands hugged my bare legs against his shirtless body. There was no way this could turn out well.

"Well, when I was four, there was this boy."

"That doesn't count!"

"Yes, it does," I responded in as stubborn a v
oice as I could muster.
"Let me finish. So our parents were friends, and he came over all the time. One day I was crying, and he asked me what was wrong. I told him that not a single boy loved me, and so I wouldn't get any presents on Valentine's day. He claimed he loved me, but I told him to prove it."

"I can picture that," he said
. H
is pace had gradually slowed. "You've always been stubborn, haven't you?" The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smirk. I smiled and continued, happy in my childhood memory.

"Anyway, he didn't have much to say, so he went home. The next day
—
Valentine's Day
—
he came over to play and handed me a penny when he walked into my playroom. It was really shiny. He said it was his favorite out of his whole piggy bank, and that he had had to crack open the container to find it. He had spent a long time shining it, and that was how I could know he loved me," I finished whimsically. I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. Looking down at Cephas, I noticed his eyes had turned a turquoise blue color. He looked
—
how would you describe it? Touched?

"What was his name?" he asked quietly.

"Bentley," I responded proudly. I had always liked his name, too.

"Did you love him back?"

"Of course! He gave me a penny! That was hard to come by when you were four!"

"Okay, then it counts," he acquiesced. "Okay, my turn."

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Okay." I thought for a moment. "What's your favorite place to be in the whole world?"

"Right now, it's on this island with you." He smiled up at me and my heart skipped a beat. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. Cheesy lines like that probably permeated his conversations with lots of girls. Cheesy or not, though, I found I cared less and less what Cephas actually said, as long as he was talking to me.

"T
ruth or dare?" he asked quickly,
thank goodness.

"Truth."

"Do you like it when my shirt's off?" I could see the grin crossing his face.

"No," I responded. His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "It makes me nervous." I was never this truthful. What was I doing?

"Truth or dare?" I urged, not wanting to give away any more information.

"Truth," he responded. Lightning cracked above our heads and the sprinkling rain erupted at once into a downpour. My clothing was soaked before Cephas could even react.

"We'd better get out of here before we get struck by lightning," Cephas warned, scrambling toward a small opening in the rocks. He set me down and gently shoved me with his body into the tiny cave. His arms lingered, wrapping protectively around my torso. I leaned against his chest, listening to the thunder cracking above my head. The sky was amiss, but I felt completely calm in the dark cave.

"Have you ever been in love?" I asked. He didn't respond. His right hand left my abdomen and moved to my neck, gently pushing the wet hair off of my skin. He pulled me closer with his left arm and moved his head toward mine. A chill ran up my spine. His nose nuzzled against my neck, the scruff on his chin grazing my tender skin. I felt the warmth of his mouth near my neck.

"Once," he whispered. "But I don't think I'll ever love anyone else again." I felt his fingers run along my abdomen, dancing around my bellybutton. I was too distracted by his rhythmic touch to decipher his evasive response

"Truth or dare?" he whispered. Why did he have to speak in that muted tone?

"Dare." The word was barely audible.

"I dare you to shut your eyes."

"They're already shut," I responded, an anxious smile creeping across my face. A gasp escaped my lips as he turned me to face him, pushing me up against the hard wall. I kept my eyes shut, feeling the blood rush through my body at rapid speeds. His hands rested on my waist, his slightly calloused thumbs moving across the little bone above the top of my jeans.

"Truth or dare?" I asked.

"Dare," he responded, his head moving closer to mine.