Stone in Love (6 page)

“Do you know what body of water that is?” she asked, pointing to the wide river, lined with houses on each side.

“It’s the Edisto, the longest blackwater river in North America.”

“That’s the Edisto River? I thought it was part of Edisto Beach?”

“The mouth of the river opens to the waters of the Atlantic at Edisto Beach, yes.”

“What do you mean by ‘blackwater’?”

Charlie turned into the primitive camping area. “Let’s walk down to it, so you can see for yourself.”

At the back of the circle–shaped camping loop, Ireland and Jeffrey sat at a picnic table on their campsite. “Back in,” Ireland said, waving. “There’s enough room for our tent and your—” she scratched her head “—van on this site.”

Jeffrey stood, waiting for Charlie to exit the van. “Hey, fella,” he said, extending his hand.

“I’ve been waiting on you.” Jeffrey ushered Charlie to a tangled heap of camouflage–colored tarp with support poles scattered on top. “My girl wasn’t much help with the tent. Think you can give me a hand?”

“Absolutely.”

Lindsay sat at the picnic table with Ireland.

“What’s up, girlie?” Ireland asked. “Ready to have some fun?”

Lindsay looked around taking inventory of all the … options. “There’s nothing here but woods. No swimming pool, no pavilion. Exactly what did you have in mind?”

“Honey, look at that man over there,” Ireland said, eyeballing Charlie.

They watched the two men work together to erect the tent.

Ireland continued her analysis. “Nice, firm buns, round, strong shoulders,” her gaze lowered to his zipper, “nice package even, from the looks of it. I think you’ll find plenty to do.”

Lindsay grinned because Ireland was spot–on about Charlie’s package. The lap dance she’d given him had validated that it was not a deception of the mind.

“It’s Jeffrey and me that will get bored. We’ve only been together for a month, and I can’t even think of another position we can try.”

“I’m sure you can figure something out.”

“I know!” Ireland said, as if a light bulb had switched on. “Let’s float down the river.”

“What do you mean, ‘float down the river’?”

“Just sit on a float and go with the current. It’s a big thing. Everyone comes here to do it. Better if we go early, before it gets crowded.”

“All right. I’ll get my swimsuit on.” Lindsay wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it gave her an excuse to wear her skimpy, black bikini for Charlie. Get him all worked up, so she could have her way with him later. She went into the ladies’ side of the bathhouse and changed. When she came out, everyone was waiting.

Charlie handed her a bright pink inner tube, and the four of them walked down the muddy banks of the river. “See why it’s called blackwater?” Charlie said. “You certainly don’t want to drop your keys in there.”

Lindsay had never seen anything like it. It was so dark she doubted she’d be able to see her own hand just beneath the surface. “I see that it’s called exactly what it is. Do you think it’s safe to go in there?”

Charlie opened his mouth to answer, when Ireland screamed, “Help! Quicksand!” She splayed her hands out to her sides in an effort to steady herself.

“It’s not quicksand, dear,” Jeffrey said, shaking his head. From behind, he grabbed her under the arms and carried her to drier land. “The mud is wet from receding water, but I promise you won’t get sucked under. Now, you can’t be acting like that when we get on our floats, letting every little thing scare you. Understand?”

Charlie and Lindsay grinned at each other.

“Lindsay, to answer your question—and Ireland you should listen up too—you’ll be safe as long you stay on your float,” Charlie said. “The current is swift, and you don’t want to get left behind. Just hold on with a free hand to Jeffrey’s or my float, and use common sense.”

Lindsay found Charlie’s authoritative tone a huge turn–on. “You’re a powerful man, aren’t you?” she said.

From out of nowhere, a voice replied, “Yes, I am. And I can make you scream my name too.”

Lindsay scowled when she saw who had stepped down onto the banks: Asher.

She looked at Charlie, whose face was expressionless, so she wasn’t sure if he’d heard that asinine comment. If Asher had a lick of sense, he’d shut his mouth right now.

Lindsay shot Ireland a get–him–out–of–here look.

“Asher, this is a couples–only vacation,” Ireland said, “and Lindsay and I are here with our boyfriends. You should go.”

“Butt out, sis.” Asher kept his gaze on Lindsay as he lurched closer, behaving as if they were the only two there.

Out of her peripheral vision, Lindsay saw the line of Charlie’s silhouette stiffen.

Standing arms–length away from Lindsay, Asher said, “Now we’re on a couples vacation, since
I
showed up. Don’t pretend like you don’t want some of this.”

Arrogant bastard
.

Naturally cocky, having been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, today Asher upped the ante. What if Charlie thought she had something going on with this creep?

Lindsay crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “You’re sickening. Do yourself a favor and back away from me.”

“Come on, baby, stop fighting the attraction,” Asher said, putting his hands on Lindsay’s folded arms.

Charlie patrolled closer. “I believe the lady asked you to step away.” Standing firm, his eyes narrowed, his chest especially prominent. The fingers of both hands slowly curled, hinting at the coming punches. If body language could tell a story, Charlie’s would say something like, “Back off, asshole, or I’ll rip your flippin’ head off.”

Asher rolled his eyes, apparently perturbed that Charlie was disrupting his attempt at courtship. He turned around casually. “And just who the hell are you?” Asher wrapped his arms around Lindsay’s defensive pose.

Charlie accepted it as a challenge.

Lindsay tried to remain calm for fear of what Charlie might do.

“Charlie will kick your skinny ass back to Charleston faster than you can fly,” she said under her breath.

Asher’s hold on her intensified into a death grip.

“Step away from the lady,” Charlie said, in a deep, threatening tone.

Asher released Lindsay and started mouthing off. “Hey buddy, no one talks to me like—” His pivot landed him up–close and personal with Charlie’s protruding chest. Asher shut his mouth, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You were saying,” Charlie said, glaring down his nose.

For a moment, Lindsay suspected that maybe Asher had grown a brain, but she was quickly disproven when he whirled around and planted one right on her lips.

Charlie grabbed Asher by the neck and hurled him to the ground.

On all fours, Asher’s back heaved up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

Not long after, he was back on his feet, fingering his straight, blond locks into place. High on pride, but short on equilibrium, he tottered over to Charlie. In an unexpected change of character, he held out his hand. “Truce.”

Charlie fixed his glare on Asher, unable to determine if he was being sincere. He’d started to offer his own hand, when Asher swung on him. He connected dead–on too … with the palm of Charlie’s hand.

Again, Asher was back on his knees writhing in pain, as Charlie squeezed and crushed the brittle bones of his hand. “Have you ever tried picking up your teeth with a bunch of broken fingers?” Charlie said.

In a prepubescent pitch, Asher replied, “No.”

Charlie showed no mercy. “Want to try?”

“No.”

“Then don’t ever let me catch you as much as breathing the same air as this lady. Are we clear?”

“Yes. Please let go now,” Asher asked, as considerately as a choir boy.

Charlie released his grip and Asher took off.

Facing Ireland, Charlie said, “I’m sorry you had to see that. I meant no disrespect to you.”

Ireland shrugged it off. “He deserved it. One day he’ll learn to stop causing trouble.”

“I wanted to step in, but I need to stay in Ireland’s good graces,” Jeffrey offered.

Charlie walked to the river’s edge and waved everyone over. “Let’s all forget about it, and finish what we set out to do.”

Chapter Eight

“Where will we exit when we get tired of floating?” Lindsay asked.

“There are plenty of boat landings, so we’ll get out at the closest one,” Charlie said.

Lindsay slipped off her flip–flops and sat down in her float, dangling her legs over the edge. She grabbed onto the side of Charlie’s float, and they started down the river.

Jeffrey and Ireland floated a few yards behind.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue. I could’ve handled him though,” Lindsay said.

Charlie stared ahead. “I’m sure you could have.”

“You’re not mad at me, are you? I didn’t
want
him to kiss me.”

“Of course not. I hope he learned his lesson—the little weasel—because next time, he won’t simply walk away. He may not walk at all.” Charlie clenched his jaw and resumed his thousand–yard stare.

Lindsay read into the malevolent look in Charlie’s eyes; most likely, he was imagining himself crippling Asher. She thought of what she could talk about to ease his mind.
Last night
. “Dang it! I just remembered, I forgot my fedora.”

Charlie ignored her. “What kind of name is that anyway?” he finally said.

“What?”

“Asher, Ireland. Who names their kids that?”

“Snobby, rich people who have to outdo their friends with fancier kid names, bigger houses, and more expensive cars.” Lindsay hadn’t considered Charlie’s wealth before she’d answered; it just rolled off her tongue.

“It’s safe to assume that he’s had everything handed to him, then?” Charlie said.

“For the most part.”

“And he thinks he can have you that easily too? Whatever gave him that idea?”

Awkward silence.

“At least Ireland seems to have her head on straight,” Charlie said. “She’s a nice girl. A little ditsy, but nice.”

Thank goodness, he’d changed the subject. Lindsay didn’t want to get into what had, or hadn’t happened between Asher and her. “Yeah, Ireland’s cool. Her dad’s a highly sought–after attorney and was rarely home when she was a kid. He spent most of his time at their New York residence. He’s a kind, loving person from what I understand, but his absence had a profound impact on his kids’ lives.

Her mother was a professional ballroom dancer and pushed Ireland all her life to become a ballerina. Her mother drilled her about counting calories and daily weigh–ins. Ireland was criticized when she didn’t keep perfect posture, reprimanded when she fraternized with anyone outside of her social stature. Her mother constantly ridiculed her, even in public. She had a dismal childhood. Now, she does everything she can to distance herself from her mother.”

Charlie nodded in agreement. “Good for her, that she was able to rise above that kind of influence.”

“Kind of, kind of not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember the dancing part? She embraced that, but shaped it to fit her personality; hence, the stripper pole in her bedroom. It’s not just a hobby, it’s her profession.”

Charlie’s eyes opened wide. “You’re kidding? Is that how you learned the moves you donned last night? You were trained by an expert?”

Lindsay pulled Charlie’s float tight against hers. “Don’t misunderstand. I’ve never watched any of Ireland’s performances. Her career choice creeps me out. We are, however, equally skilled in the booty–shaking category.”

“No arguments here.”

“I remember the day we met. Ireland challenged me to a dance–off. Are you familiar with the saloon in downtown Charleston, where the girls dance on the bar?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Some of the girls from work forced me to go one day after I had a particularly bitchy customer. I spent forty–five minutes making over her face, and trust me, that undertaking wouldn’t have appealed to the most skilled esthetician. She was a beast—had the most unattractive face I’d ever seen on such a nicely shaped figure. I know I’m being ugly, but she was a witch. She went off on me for giving her a personal skin–care recommendation.”

“Why would somebody do that?”

“I told her she needed to use our oily–skin line and she flipped out. She threatened to sue me and the store for defamation by suggesting that she had an acne problem.”

Charlie laughed. “So what happened next?”

Lindsay looked confused.

“At the bar,” he reminded her.

“Oh, yeah. So Ireland was up on the bar, leading the regular saloon dancers in a burlesque–style country line dance, her very own creation, she later informed me. The crowd was clapping and hollering like crazy. She was wearing low–cut jeans, a shiny, silver bra, and a belly chain. I thought she looked ridiculous. Sitting at the bar, I rolled my eyes, and she noticed the gesture. That’s when she challenged me to a dance–off right on the bar top. At the end of our … sets, the audience chose a winner. I got the most applause, so Ireland shook my hand and told me I did a great job. Since then, we’ve become close friends.”

“As long as I don’t catch you on the pole at Ireland’s place of business, I can live with that,” Charlie said, and gave her a playful splash.”

“Hey! Now it’s payback time!” Lindsay got out of her tube and flipped Charlie’s over. She expected him to come up and body–slam her into the water. He didn’t resurface, however, and she became frantic.

She felt underneath the water and called out for him, but there was no answer. Just before she set into panic mode, he emerged and wrapped his arms around her.

“Miss me?”

“You brat! My heart is about to pound out of my chest!”

Charlie’s expression sobered. He stroked the side of her face. “My heart’s been racing since the moment we first met. I haven’t known you that long, but I don’t want to lose you.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “You are mine to lose, aren’t you Lindsay?”

She wanted to say that she wasn’t ready for this yet, but she bit her lip. She knew well the look of deceit, but didn’t detect it in Charlie’s eyes. Instead, she saw in them exactly the opposite. The way he looked past her eyes, into her soul, made it hard to question his sincerity. She acknowledged him with a tender kiss, hoping to compensate for the words unspoken.