Just One Song by Lynn Stevens

Author:Lynn Stevens [Stevens, Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lynn Stevens
Published: 2020-08-02T18:30:00+00:00

“How’s your dad?” Dylan asked when I climbed into his car twenty minutes later.

I pulled on the damp braid. “He’s trying. That’s all he can do, right?” I turned toward him. “I never did thank you for picking me up that day.”

Dylan shook his head. “No need to thank me.” He pulled out onto the street and made a u-turn. “I’ve got your back.”

“Right back atcha,” I said.

Dylan chuckled. “You seriously didn’t say that.”

“I did, and I stand by it.” I flipped my braid over my shoulder. This was nice. The last few days had been tough. Joking with Dylan felt natural. I touched the pages in my bag. I’d debated about whether to bring the song or not. It wasn’t bad for my first time writing. I wondered what Dylan would think of it.

“What did you want to do today?” he asked with one hand on the steering wheel and the other under his chin.

I pushed the song out of my mind. As much as I wanted to sing with him today, I also wanted to do something else. Anything else. I just wanted to live for the moment. “Have you been out on the lake?”

“No,” Dylan answered. “You know someone who has a boat?”

I smiled. “Not a boat, a kayak.”

“I can honestly say I’ve never kayaked before.” He stopped at a red light. “Where to?”

After giving him directions, I regretted not going home for my swimsuit. My shorts and tank would be fine. Dylan was in shorts and a worn concert shirt. We could leave our flipflops in a locker at the rental shop and buy water shoes. I needed a new pair anyway. He turned up the radio and sang under his breath to an old rock song. The more I thought about it, the more I needed to get out on the water. Dylan parked in the mostly empty lot.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Not even a little bit.” He grinned.

I reached out and patted his cheek. “Such a wuss.”

Dylan’s hand covered mine. He pressed my fingers against his cheek. The joking disappeared in a nanosecond. His gaze held mine. The heat steamed the car. I wanted to lean toward him, but I was frozen. He turned his head, his eyes still on me, and kissed my palm. My body turned to jelly. The heated air caused beads of sweat to form at my hairline. I wanted to reach out with my other hand. I wanted so many things in that moment. Then he let go and climbed out of the car.

What the hell just happened? And can it happen again?

Dylan paid for the kayak, and I stowed our stuff in the locker. My thoughts were a jumbled mess. He even bought us water shoes. I stood by like an idiot in a daze.

“You driving?” Jack, the owner of Jack’s Rentals, asked. He was a good ole country boy with silver hair and a leather complexion. Jack spent as much time on the water as he could and the sun had leathered his skin.

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