Chapter 6

Sun was dropping towards the western horizon turning the sky purple and royal blue when I piloted the boat to the jetty. We were back in swimming suits, but Rory had complained when putting the top on. Apparently her boobs were sun burnt.

While she lugged the cooler and garbage bag up to the house, I set about rinsing salt off the boat. Rory informed me she was going to shower and treat the sunburn with aloe vera.

After lunch, Rory had suggested some more kissing lessons and I’d declined. Anticipation heightens pleasure, both for her and for me. I had every intention of kissing her again, and again. She was like a drug to me; so young, sweet, and deliciously spicy. But there was more. I’d watched this charming girl grow up since she was seven. I’d experienced her childhood, her sweet innocence, how fantasy blended with reality in her play, how she would skip for no reason other than she was happy, and how she involved me in her activities by force of personality.

She’d gifted me with companionship I’d never known I missed and amused me endlessly with her temper tantrums and stomping foot, and all I’d been able to do was laugh at her. Perhaps that’s why she’d grown into such a forthright young lady. Or perhaps it was in her genes.

From very young, Rory had used the same look with me; that glint in her eyes. But it was only with the growth of her adult teeth, when canines emerged, that her smile had changed from impish to feral; my dark-haired panther, a hint of danger that thrilled and vaguely scared me.

My problem was I adored her. I was helpless in my attraction, even knowing it wasn’t right. It was the only cloud on my mind. Would I ultimately harm her? Was she truly mature enough to handle an intimate relationship with me? For that matter, was I?

Perhaps it would be wise to take it slow, give her every chance to back away or not, her choice.

“Where the heck are you?” Rory yelled from the house. “It’s dark. I’m hungry! Haven’t you finished yet?”

“Be right there,” I yelled, chuckling and shaking my head.

Finishing the last of the fresh water rinse, I headed back, coiling the hose as I walked. Darkness had set. Crickets had started their nightly song. Ahead, the kitchen and family room windows glowed bright with lights.

“It’s about time,” Rory commented when I stepped through the glass doors, closing the screen behind me. She looked sweet in an overly large red Budweiser T-shirt - mine. It fell to mid-thighs, her bronzed legs and feet bare. Her hair was tied at the nape of her neck and still damp from her shower, tendrils loose and framing her face.

She gave me the eye and a frown. “Dinner.”

I smiled back at her. “I have to shower first.”

“Dinner,” she insisted. “Or I won’t kiss you anymore.”

With a laugh, I shrugged and headed to my bedroom, yelling back at her, “Life’s a beach.”

Hopping and shucking my swimming trunks while heading to the bathroom, Rory made me jump.

“Your ass is sunburnt,” she informed me from behind.

“Is it? It doesn’t feel burned.”

She followed me to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. Unconsciously, she rubbed under one boob. “Want me to put some aloe vera on it?”

When I looked at her, she grinned at me. “It helped my sunburn.”

I turned the shower on. “Thanks, but no need.”

“You sure? You might like it. I might, too.”

I laughed, dropped the swim suit into the sink and stepped into the shower. The water was cool everywhere except my ass. There, it felt hot. I guess my ass was sunburned after all. I was too manly to admit it to Rory, though.

She was gone when I finished. I picked the softest boxers I owned, soft sweatpants and an olive green T-shirt that had been in my possession forever.

Rory was absorbed with her Smartphone, slouched on the sofa, her head resting on the arm. The television was on. I set about making dinner. I was famished. A day of sun and water does that to me.

All in all, it had been a great Saturday and I wanted to celebrate. In the refrigerator, I found a lost Rolling Rock beer and opened it. “Happy National Anti-Boredom Month,” I said, taking a sip.

Rory responded with a “Huh?” from the sofa. “Did you say something?”

“Nope.”

Dinner - fresh grilled, crispy-skinned salmon with a lemon-dill cream sauce, new potatoes, and fresh green beans - was easy to prepare and consumed voraciously.

Rory, stomach full, mellowed and smiled again, her world rebalanced. She left me to clean up, flopped and stretched out on the sofa, and resumed texting. An occasional laugh or giggle reached me.

I took my time washing dishes. It wasn’t my favorite chore, but I liked a neat and organized kitchen. It made cooking a joy and I loved cooking.

Drying my hands, I contemplated dessert. Cool ice cream would go down well. With a bowl of vanilla drizzled with chocolate sauce, I meandered over to the sofa.

Rory, without looking up from her Smartphone, raised her legs to give me room. I sat. Her feet settled in my lap. I switched the TV to a news program and savored each bite of ice cream.

“Give me a bite.”

I leaned over and fed her a spoonful.

“Mmmm. Good,” she announced, still concentrating on her Smartphone.

On the news, a new healthcare act was announced along with the commentary that most of the GOP Representatives hadn’t even read the act before voting for it. American politics. Gotta love it. Insanity legalized.

“Gimme another bite.”

I extended the spoon towards her. She levered herself up, opened her mouth and cleaned the spoon, relaxing back. “Mmmm-mmmm. Really good.”

The ice cream was finished. One spoonful left. I carefully scooped up the chocolate sauce and melting ice cream and savored the final bite.

“Another,” Rory demanded.

“It’s finished.”

“I want more.” She twisted, her feet leaving my lap.

I was gifted with a flash of cotton panties under her T-shirt before she stood and headed to the freezer. They were white with pink elastic, printed with small roses and daisies.