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Oliver leaned over and kissed me. We’d been sitting on white chaise lounge for the past half hour soaking up the sun dressed in my silver bikini. The sky was cloudless, and a gentle breeze was making the dark lake ripple. I reached down and ran my hand through the sand, finding a small smooth dark rock and rolling it around my palm.
In the distance we heard jet skis and motors from boats riding the lake. The sound of an engine got closer and a man wearing an orange life vest and blue swim trunks flew by on a white and yellow jet ski. It kicked the water up and pushed waves that lapped at the shore.
“Those are annoying.”
“We can’t stop people from driving by our beach. No one owns the lake.”
“I know, but still.”
A minute later, the jet ski's engine growled as it approached again, this time at a slower speed. The man's gaze turned in our direction, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. I watched him warily from behind my own shades, my muscles tensing involuntarily. After what felt like an eternity, he finally gunned the engine and sped away, leaving a white wake in his path.
I tried to relax, focusing on the warmth of the sun on my skin as I resumed sunbathing. But the peace was short-lived. Ten minutes later, the now-familiar buzz of the jet ski returned.
"Sir?" A deep voice broke through my unease.
Oliver looked up, shielding his eyes against the sun. Both Tino and Vlad stood behind us, their expressions grim.
"Is there an issue?" Oliver asked, his voice steady but laced with concern.
Tino shifted his weight, glancing out at the water. "The guy on the jet ski. I think you and Mrs. Fox should move up to the house."
Oliver's brow furrowed. "You think he's a problem?"
"We saw him earlier, before you came out here," Vlad added, his accent thickening with worry.
I sat up abruptly, sand clinging to my damp skin. "Oliver?" I couldn't mask the tremor in my voice.
My husband nodded, his jaw set. "We should go up to the house, just to be safe."
As if on cue, the jet ski's engine rumbled in the distance, growing louder. My heart began to race, blood pounding in my ears. The man was cruising slowly, almost coming to a stop as he neared the shore.
Brenda appeared at my side, gently urging me to my feet. Meanwhile, Tino strode purposefully onto the dock, his voice carrying across the water. "Can I help you, sir?"
I couldn't make out the man's response as Oliver and I hurried up the manicured lawn. By the time we stepped into the house, I was shaking uncontrollably. The blast of air conditioning hit my overheated skin, sending a shiver down my spine – or was it the situation that chilled me to the bone?
While Oliver conferred with Vlad on the patio, I frantically searched the cabinets for something strong to calm my nerves. Finding only wine, I poured a generous amount into a tumbler, my trembling hands nearly spilling the pale liquid.
I gulped it down, the crisp taste doing little to soothe my frayed nerves. As I poured a second glass, Oliver stepped inside, his face etched with concern.
"Ryleigh?" he said softly, approaching me.
I looked up, tears threatening to spill over. "It's them, isn't it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver shook his head, reaching out to steady my hands. "No. Tino said it's just someone curious about the new owners. This place sat vacant for a long time."
"Are you sure?" I pressed, searching his eyes for any hint of deception.
He sighed, squeezing my fingers gently. "I think it's all right. People get nosy when someone new moves in."
"I guess," I mumbled, unconvinced.
"Take it easy," Oliver soothed. "Want to sit by the pool?"
I bit my lip. "Is it safe?"
"More than safe," he assured me. "Come on."
He held out his hand, and I slowly came around the counter. Instead of taking it, I pressed my face against his chest, seeking comfort in his familiar scent. My fingers traced the raised scar tissue – a permanent reminder of how close I'd come to losing him.
