The man immediately froze on the path beside her, but she kept walking as if she hadn't noticed. A few quick strides carried him back abreast of her.
"Absolutely not," he whispered harshly, as if they were in danger of being overheard. Cara's eyebrow tugged upward in amusement, but she made no remark as they continued up the driveway. "Rather, I mean…you are more than welcome to use the facility as you wish. I've had…quite enough swimming for the week."
He was making it too easy to tease him this morning, and Cara wondered at the flustered change. She hadn't noticed him drinking over breakfast—maybe that had something to do with it? Or maybe it was something else that now triggered his easy embarrassment. Something like a dream…
They had barely made it halfway up the hill before the clouds converged once more overhead. The sunlight waned, and they simultaneously glanced up to watch it vanish completely. Cara felt a first drop of rain splash down on her nose, and scrunched her expression in distaste.
"Won't it ever let up?" she exclaimed as they started to run for shelter. "Even for a moment?"
In response, she felt Simon grasp her hand. Her heart thrilled at the unexpected contact, but she lost it in the next moment when the sole of her boot slipped in the freshly churned mud and she fell elbows first onto the ground. The splash back of her fall seemed absurd by comparison; it burst upward, completely painting the front of her jeans, jacket, and, worst of all, face. Cara's mouth fell open in a gasp of horror. It was as if time froze as she picked herself back up again, running similarly drenched fingers along the crease of her eyes in an effort to clear holes in the mud mask. She was dimly aware of Simon's uproarious laughter—so much for being a gentleman —and then was made more immediately aware of the fact that the man had slipped on his way back to her. He went down backwards in another eruption of mud, but the angle of his fall didn't save him from a fate similar to Cara's own; the mud collapsed back down in a wave on top of him, covering him completely.
Cara raised herself up victoriously from the stew and laughed. "Karma!" she exclaimed.
"I was coming back to get you!" Simon yelled miserably, but she could hear the helpless laugh in his own voice. The rain ran in twisting rivulets down through the filth that covered him. It might have been in their best interest to stay out there and let the rain wash them clean, but it was colder now that the clouds had eclipsed the New England sun completely.
Cara struggled through the mud back toward him and held out her hand. "Come on," she invited. As soon as Simon had grasped her and started to haul himself up, she pretended to lose her grip; she let the man's hand slip between her fingers, and turned her head aside at the last minute to avoid getting splashed with more mud from his fall.
"Cheeky girl!" he exclaimed. Cara tried not to let another laugh at his expense give away her game, but it failed. She had just bent to offer her hand again, when she felt a leg sweep hers out from beneath her. She had time to emit a very colorful curse before she fell forward. Thankfully, rather than face-plant in the mud, it was the body of a very filthy Englishman that caught her fall.
Then they were kissing, and through the mess and the driving rain, Cara felt her feelings for the man surge unchecked to the forefront once more. She didn't care about the dirt or the grit or the swampy consistency of his driveway; all she cared about was how familiar the press of his lips felt now against hers. All she could think was that it had been too long already since their last session, and that she was determined to make up for lost time.
Simon reared up into a sitting position beneath her, carrying her out of the worst of the mud astride his lap. Cara never broke from him; her lips roved against his firmly, desperately, and Simon returned her energy with an eagerness all his own.
"Absolutely not," he whispered harshly, as if they were in danger of being overheard. Cara's eyebrow tugged upward in amusement, but she made no remark as they continued up the driveway. "Rather, I mean…you are more than welcome to use the facility as you wish. I've had…quite enough swimming for the week."
He was making it too easy to tease him this morning, and Cara wondered at the flustered change. She hadn't noticed him drinking over breakfast—maybe that had something to do with it? Or maybe it was something else that now triggered his easy embarrassment. Something like a dream…
They had barely made it halfway up the hill before the clouds converged once more overhead. The sunlight waned, and they simultaneously glanced up to watch it vanish completely. Cara felt a first drop of rain splash down on her nose, and scrunched her expression in distaste.
"Won't it ever let up?" she exclaimed as they started to run for shelter. "Even for a moment?"
In response, she felt Simon grasp her hand. Her heart thrilled at the unexpected contact, but she lost it in the next moment when the sole of her boot slipped in the freshly churned mud and she fell elbows first onto the ground. The splash back of her fall seemed absurd by comparison; it burst upward, completely painting the front of her jeans, jacket, and, worst of all, face. Cara's mouth fell open in a gasp of horror. It was as if time froze as she picked herself back up again, running similarly drenched fingers along the crease of her eyes in an effort to clear holes in the mud mask. She was dimly aware of Simon's uproarious laughter—so much for being a gentleman —and then was made more immediately aware of the fact that the man had slipped on his way back to her. He went down backwards in another eruption of mud, but the angle of his fall didn't save him from a fate similar to Cara's own; the mud collapsed back down in a wave on top of him, covering him completely.
Cara raised herself up victoriously from the stew and laughed. "Karma!" she exclaimed.
"I was coming back to get you!" Simon yelled miserably, but she could hear the helpless laugh in his own voice. The rain ran in twisting rivulets down through the filth that covered him. It might have been in their best interest to stay out there and let the rain wash them clean, but it was colder now that the clouds had eclipsed the New England sun completely.
Cara struggled through the mud back toward him and held out her hand. "Come on," she invited. As soon as Simon had grasped her and started to haul himself up, she pretended to lose her grip; she let the man's hand slip between her fingers, and turned her head aside at the last minute to avoid getting splashed with more mud from his fall.
"Cheeky girl!" he exclaimed. Cara tried not to let another laugh at his expense give away her game, but it failed. She had just bent to offer her hand again, when she felt a leg sweep hers out from beneath her. She had time to emit a very colorful curse before she fell forward. Thankfully, rather than face-plant in the mud, it was the body of a very filthy Englishman that caught her fall.
Then they were kissing, and through the mess and the driving rain, Cara felt her feelings for the man surge unchecked to the forefront once more. She didn't care about the dirt or the grit or the swampy consistency of his driveway; all she cared about was how familiar the press of his lips felt now against hers. All she could think was that it had been too long already since their last session, and that she was determined to make up for lost time.
Simon reared up into a sitting position beneath her, carrying her out of the worst of the mud astride his lap. Cara never broke from him; her lips roved against his firmly, desperately, and Simon returned her energy with an eagerness all his own.
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