Dirty Girl

Waterfalls

He gestured toward the water. “Everything’s nearly set up for this obstacle. The runners jump down into the ocean from that cliff.” He pointed to a rocky ledge about eight feet high. “Then they hop along these lily pads.”

He bent down and picked up a rope strung with buoys. “I still need to mark out the area, but I can’t get the alignment right on my own.”

Jordan folded her arms, raising a skeptical brow. “You want me to go in the water? I’m not wearing a bathing suit.”

Jake’s grin turned wicked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, thank God your clothes are already wet.”

She blinked, confused, glancing down at her dry sundress. “What are you—?”

Before she could finish, his arms were around her, lifting her off the ground with ease. She let out a squeal, legs kicking in playful protest. “No, Jake, don’t you dare!”

“Too late,” he laughed, carrying her toward the ocean.

“Jake! No! Please! I swear—” Her words were cut off as he tossed her into the surf.

Warm water engulfed her. She surfaced with a gasp, brushing her hair back, her glare more amused than angry. “How could you? This is my best dress!”

Jake took her in, dripping and dazzling, his gaze lingering. He tilted his head and let his eyes roam. “It looks better wet anyway. Clings in all the right places.” He tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “And now we’ve got an excuse to go shopping for you.”

Then, with a more serious note, he added, “It’ll be fun watching you try on outfits. Maybe even some lingerie…” His voice trailed off, eyes distant.

“The buoys, Jake.” Jordan’s voice yanked him back to reality.

“Right. The buoys.” He grinned.

She splashed him, trying—and failing—to hide a smile.

Side by side, they swam out to the lily pads, adjusting the markers. Jake’s instructions were full of jokes and teasing, making the task feel less like work, more like play. Jordan couldn’t help laughing as he dramatically emphasized the life-or-death importance of perfect buoy placement.

“You know,” she said, tugging one buoy into position, “you didn’t actually need my help, did you? This was just an excuse to get me in the water.”

Jake smirked, eyes gleaming. “Guilty. But can you blame me?”

“These buoys remind me of when my son was three,” she said, surprising herself. She hadn’t mentioned Caleb to Jake before, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react to hearing she had a child.

“The buoy reminds you of the boy?” he quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Of course. A joke.

Jordan rolled her eyes but continued. “He misheard me and called them ‘boobies.’ We were swimming at Kakabeka Beach and he shouted, ‘Mom, can I swim out to the boobies?’ I turned five shades of red when two teenage girls in bikinis looked over in shock. I’ve never enunciated a word more clearly in my life after that—‘Buh-oys, Caleb. BUOYS.’”

They both laughed.

“How old is he now?” Jake asked.

“Old enough to go to college,” she said. “He just moved out to B.C.”

Her voice trailed off, but Jake didn’t press. They worked in comfortable silence until the last buoy was in place. Jake floated on his back, arms spread wide, eyes on the late-afternoon sky.

“All done. Now what?”

Jordan, feeling playful, grinned. “Race you back to shore?”

“Oh, you’re on.” He flipped upright, muscles shifting beneath his skin. “Just don’t cry when you lose.”

They took off, laughing and splashing their way to shore. Jake reached the beach first, turning to watch Jordan emerge from the waves. Her clothes clung to her, outlining every curve, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

She caught him staring. “Something on your mind?” she asked, half-laughing.

He cleared his throat, grinning sheepishly. “Just admiring the view.”

Jordan turned slowly, letting him take her in. It had been so long since she’d felt confident enough to invite someone to truly see her. But with Jake, it felt easy. Natural. She wanted him to look.

Framed by the setting sun, her silhouette shimmered against a canvas of orange, pink, and purple streaks. The water mirrored the sky, creating a breathtaking reflection.

Jake groaned, his playfulness giving way to something deeper—hungrier. He stepped forward, pressing his arousal against her from behind. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the salt and sunshine on her skin, then ran his hands across her stomach, inching her sundress up.

With one tug, her white panties dropped to the sand.

“I want to take care of you, Jordan,” he murmured. “Will you let me?”

She nodded.

“No, Jordan,” he whispered, his hand gently but firmly wrapping around her neck, pulling her closer. The other hand stroked the heat between her thighs. “Say it.”

She wanted to melt, to cry out, to whimper—but she knew what he needed.

“Yes,” she breathed. Then louder, “Yes.”

Jake brought his lips to hers and carefully laid her down on the sand. She arched into him, surrendering completely.

Afterward, spent and quiet, they lay side by side, watching the sun sink into the horizon. The first stars appeared above them, glittering over the soft hush of waves.

Jake’s voice broke the silence. “This is our thing now.”

She turned her head. “What is?”

“Watching the sunset together.” His tone was soft, vulnerable. “I could spend every night for the rest of my life doing this with you.”

Her heart fluttered at the weight of his words. She propped herself on one elbow, searching his face. No sarcasm. No smirk. Just quiet sincerity.

She laced her fingers with his and rested her head on his chest.

His wife. Her promise to never love again. The distance between their worlds. The thirteen-year age gap. All the reasons they shouldn’t have been here—together—faded into the crashing of the waves.

And all that remained was the warmth of his hand in hers.