Page 23 of One More Chance

Jensen

I don’t envy beinga woman. Well, I mean, sometimes I think it’d be cool to have boobs but mostly, I don’t envy the struggle. Harper disappeared into the tent to change into her bathing suit while I simply slipped out of my pants and shirts, leaving just my swim trunks. That was it. I’ve been waiting for about six minutes now while my grand transformation took all of thirty seconds. Maybe she has strappy things she’s struggling with, I don’t know. The point is, I respect the effort. Because I like boobies. Because I’m a typical man in that regard.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Her voice travels from behind me and I turn, giving up my view of the lake for…something so much better. Harper is wearing a small, red bikini. Ugh, why did it have to be red? The bottom ties on either side. There’s a tie at her neck and back. Four little knots. That’s it. Women are goddesses.

I clear my throat rather loudly, averting my eyes from all the perfect skin to the ground. Because again, I’m not here to cause trouble but I’m not fucking blind either.

“Okay, let’s go,” I say, rushing toward the water.

Everything will be better when she’s wet. No. Shit. I mean, covered in water. Under the water where I can’t see her.

We walk down toward the edge of the lake, which has a nice little bank that lets you walk right in. I let the water hit my ankles and it’s surprisingly warm. I expected it to be at least a little cool. I wade in deeper, the water hitting my knees as I look over to find Harper.

She’s already in deep enough to let the water hit her upper thighs. She walks further in, skimming her hands along the top of the rippling water. I watch her shoulders dip, like she’s just unloaded a burden.

“It’s nice, huh?” She turns toward me, her eyes trailing up my body and finding mine. Her long blonde hair bounces and sways, the ends of it just starting to get wet. Her face is calm, serene. “I really love the water,” she says.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” I ask.

“No. I was supposed to go on my honeymoon, but there was a change of plans. That’s sad, right? I’m a grown woman and I’ve never seen the ocean,” she says.

“No. I’m sure plenty of people haven’t seen it. But if you love the water, you should.”

Harper nods her head, silently agreeing with me as she steps deeper into the water, letting it hit her chest.

Most of her is submerged now, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little relieved. Her petite frame still has plenty of womanly curve, I can confirm that much. Parts of her look surprisingly soft and round and squeezable. Okay, no. Abort that thought train.

I dive into the water head-first, and come up several feet past her. Little droplets fall from my now wet hair. Harper is smiling at me like I’ve extended some sort of challenge, and then she dives into the water, disappearing for several seconds.

I look all around, until she finally surfaces near me.

“Are we racing? Because I didn’t shave my body,” I say. “That’s gonna slow me down.”

“See that buoy over there?” she says, pointing out into the water.

I peer out and see a little yellow dot bounding on the water.

Harper waggles her eyebrows at me and then yells, “Go!”

To be fair, I’m not mad she gave herself a head start. One of my strokes equals two of hers and I catch up with ease. But I’m also not in the mood to dust her, so I swim right next to her, watching her paddle and breathe, paddle and breathe.

When we get closer to the buoy, I stop in the water several feet short of it, letting her pass and touch it.

“It’s not fun if you let me win.” She laughs.

“Yes, it is.” I lie back and float on my back, looking up at the sky. It’s getting much darker now. If it weren’t for our fire on the shore, I’m not even sure we’d be able to see our way back.

“Wanna head back?” she asks.

I nod, rolling over and starting to swim toward the light, this time at a more leisurely pace. “I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out a way to add in cooking lessons. That will be the next thing we do.”

Harper splashes water at me, laughing. “You’re crazy. Why do you want to take me on these dates anyway?”

“We’re practicing, remember?” I remind her. And myself.

“Right,” she whispers.