Not Yet Read online




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  Not Yet

  Copyright © 2014 by Laura Ward

  Cover Design by: Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign.com

  Formatting and interior design by JT Formatting

  ISBN:

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ***

  Lesson One

  Lesson Two

  Lesson Three

  Lesson Four

  Lesson Five

  Lesson Six

  Lesson Seven

  Lesson Eight

  Lesson Nine

  Lesson Ten

  Lesson Eleven

  Lesson Twelve

  Lesson Thirteen

  Lesson Fourteen

  Lesson Fifteen

  Lesson Sixteen

  Lesson Seventeen

  Lesson Eighteen

  Lesson Nineteen

  Lesson Twenty

  Lesson Twenty-One

  Lesson Twenty-Two

  Lesson Twenty-Three

  Lesson Twenty-Four

  Lesson Twenty-Five

  Lesson Twenty-Six

  Lesson Twenty-Seven

  Lesson Twenty-Eight

  Lesson Twenty-Nine

  Lesson Thirty

  Lesson Thirty-One

  Lesson Thirty-Two

  Lesson Thirty-Three

  Lesson Thirty-Four

  Epilogue—Landon—Five Years Later

  Emma—Five years, and two weeks, later….

  Dear Reader

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  ***

  This book is dedicated to my three children.

  Riley, Mackenzie, and Braeden, my wish for you is to always follow your heart.

  Never give up on your dreams.

  My dreams came true the minute I saw each of you.

  ***

  TIGHTENING THE THIN rubber strap that reached around the back of my head, I adjusted my goggles and stretched my arms, palms up and fingers interlocked, to the sky. I rolled my neck and shook my legs, one at a time, releasing the tension. Stepping to the edge of the pool, I curled my toes over the header and jumped, entering the water in a practiced, smooth glide.

  I was in my happy place.

  There was something so calming about diving into a pool, cutting through the glass-like top layer, and moving down into the deep chambers of the water. All sound was drowned out and I felt separated from the rest of the world. I was weightless, isolated, and in complete control of whether I chose to stay here forever or come up for air. Teaching swimming lessons and then lifeguarding had filled my summers for years because I loved this feeling, and I loved to teach others to come to this place—this serene, underwater nirvana. Only, I thought this summer would be different, and I certainly didn’t think it would be spent at the Country Club of Avon.

  I had worked all day cleaning the guard house, my “official”—but not in any way country club standard—office space, and arranging schedules for the summer guards. I was hired to manage the pool for the summer, and I was meeting with the crew that evening to go over my expectations for their jobs.

  Lingering in the momentum from my dive for just a minute, I broke the surface and took a breath. Fresh, clean air filled my lungs before I turned back into the water, lifting each arm in a perfect cadence and kicking my legs.

  This I could control.

  Stroke, stroke, and breathe. Stroke, stroke, and breathe.

  Glancing up at the clock a few minutes later, I pulled off my goggles and lifted myself onto the pool deck. I looked around for my towel, but it wasn’t on the bench where I left it. Spinning around in confusion, I found a guy wearing a faded blue baseball cap and a flirty smile, holding my towel as he leaned against the brick wall. Great. This was so not what I needed right now.

  “What’s up, sweetheart?” Mr. Cool handed me my towel, and I wiped my face and dried my hair. His eyes raked down my body with a heat that I could feel, and I was less than thrilled with the decision to wear my pale yellow swimsuit. My almost threadbare, now wet, swimsuit. I felt way too exposed.

  “The pool is closed to everyone but employees. Can I help you with something?” I snapped at him, irritated that the rich, privileged, country club members were already trying to bend the rules.

  “Oh, I know,” Mr. Cool replied with a smirk. “Name’s Landon. I’ve been lifeguarding here for three years. Head guard. And you are?”

  “Your boss.” I rolled my eyes as I slipped on my shorts and tank top. I started to walk to the guard house as Mr. Cool, Landon, or whatever his preppy name was, pushed himself off the wall to follow me.

  “Do you have a name or do you prefer to go by boss lady?” he asked, in an attempt to demonstrate his ability to be clever.

  “My name’s Emma Harris.” I begrudgingly shook hands with him as I admitted to myself that it was good he had some experience at the pool. “Are you a member as well?”

  “Hell no, Emma. I’m not from Avon, and I’m certainly not ‘club member’ material. These rich kids will drive you crazy, but the pay is great, and the club isn’t a bad place to guard. You’ll like it here.” As he spoke, I couldn’t help but notice Mr. Cool’s size. He was easily over six feet tall with firm, cut muscles in his arms and a broad chest that was evident underneath his fitted T-shirt. His face was model handsome, and his expression showed that he sure as hell knew it.

  I nodded and motioned for him to sit. The guard house was small, but it fit its purpose. There was an old, beat up desk by the window that was mine. A sofa was pushed up along the wall, and a circular table and chairs sat in the corner so the off duty guards could eat and relax.

  Eight other people showed up for orientation, most of them many years younger than me. They were enthusiastic and friendly, and, for the most part, they seemed like a nice group. I went over the schedule, as well as guard rotations and cleaning duties, while Mr. Cool made jokes and flirted shamelessly with the girls. I purposefully ignored him, and I wasn’t sure if that amused him or made him try harder. Either way, I wasn’t fazed.

  After our meeting ended, I walked back down the hill to the employee parking lot. A black Ford F-150 Raptor pickup truck was parked next to my faded, red Honda Accord. With tinted windows, custom rims, and a lift-kit, this truck screamed, ‘Pay attention to the driver. He thinks he’s hot shit.’ Despite my annoyance at anything frivolous, this was the sexiest truck I had ever seen. And standing—possibly posing—next to it was Mr. Cool.

  Not country club material? I call bullshit.

  No one at his stage
in life could afford a truck like that. “I thought you were just a working class guy from Indy, Landon. This is a mighty fancy truck for a poor lifeguard.” I couldn’t keep the snark from my tone as I approached my car.

  “I said I wasn’t country club material. I never said I was poor.” Landon laughed and walked closer to me. I instinctively crossed my arms over my chest and took a step back. “My Dad helped me buy this, but I work for my insurance and the endless gas she uses.”

  I shook my head, knowing he was just another spoiled boy. And spoiled boys were selfish boys. This I knew firsthand. Turning to unlock my car, I slid inside.

  Landon leaned into the open window. “Want to go get something to eat? There’s a great spot down by the lake for a picnic... or whatever.”

  Exhaling loudly, I turned my key in the ignition and fired up the hamster wheel that served as my engine. “Dream on, pretty boy.” Slamming the gear into reverse, my car spun back on the gravel lot, and I got the hell out of Avon as fast as I could.

  ***

  “YOU COMING OVER for dinner? Ma wants to know.” My best friend Dean called me almost every night with the same question. I’d been mooching dinners off his mom since I was eight years old. I loved that woman, and I really loved her homemade pirogues.

  “Yup. Be there in twenty.” I paused before filling him in on the biggest news of my day. “I met the new pool manger this afternoon.” One of my buddies told me that the Club board had hired a college girl to supervise the pool for the summer. I was immediately stoked. Being that our previous manager was an unemployed, fifty year old dude with chest, back, and arm hair that resembled a wool sweater, this was a major step up. Personally, I was hoping for a sorority chick who was mostly interested in deepening her tan and wouldn’t ride me too hard. Or… she would ride me hard and that would be pretty great too.

  “And… is she hot?” Dean always got right to the point. Good man.

  Emma Harris was hot. No doubt about that. That dorky swimsuit she wore? Well, damn that faded yellow thing was see through as hell. I’m sure it was ‘cause it was old as shit, but I didn’t question the reason. I just took a moment to appreciate it. And there was a lot to appreciate. The kicker was, it was a freakin’ one piece. Granted, she was swimming laps, but any girl I hung out with would swim in a bikini. Okay, any girl I hung out with was probably not swimming laps either, but if they did and something popped out, they’d just giggle and roll their eyes at that pesky little nipple escaping, calling it a ‘wardrobe malfunction.’ And I’d know they did it to impress me, so I’d act stunned and we’d make out. It was a win-win situation.

  This chick was not at all like those girls.

  Emma was short and petite, with a huge rack and curves that would stop an Indy race car in its tracks. She had a cute little nose and small pink lips that were almost always curled in a sneer when she talked to me. We needed to work on that—because, in their natural state, those lips could break a man. But it was her eyes that really got to me. She had huge, green eyes that twinkled like mad when she was irritated. It was like kryptonite, and I swear she could kill me with one look. I could only imagine what they looked like if she was ever happy. That, I wanted to see.

  “Yeah, she’s hot. When I got to the pool she was swimming laps. Talked to her for a while and then went to orientation. That’s about it.” I left out the fact that she seemed to hate me. She didn’t even know my name, and she was pissed off at me. It was pretty funny. When I told my one-liners, she acted like she was deaf. If she was, I’d understand her brush off—and probably learn sign language to really razz her—but I knew from our snippy introduction that she was just ice cold.

  “So, you have a hot new boss. Why are you coming here? Didn’t you ask her to the lake?”

  This was going to suck balls. “Yeah, I did. She turned me down. Actually, she called me a ‘pretty boy’ and then burned rubber getting away as fast as she could.” I waited. Five long seconds before I had to pull the phone away. Dean’s howling laughter filled my ears.

  “No shit. Someone told you no? That’s so fuckin’ awesome. I like this one already. Tell me more about her.” If I were in the same room as that poontang, I’d knock his teeth out. Since I was driving, I ignored his hilarity and moved on. I didn’t know much about her. But I had to agree with Dean on one thing. I’d never met a woman who’d turned down my invitation to the lake. I’d found more action on that sandy bank than Magic Mike at ‘over forty ladies night’ in Broadripple. This was new, and very interesting, territory.

  Flirting was what I did best—both giving and receiving. Teens, moms, cougars, and one granny—that was the most disturbingly disgusting and yet ego stroking proposition of my life. But I didn’t take it any further than that at work. I liked my job too much to jeopardize it for a girl. Besides, I had plenty of eager volunteers outside of my work. My rule about hook ups was that they were frequent and fun.

  But Emma? No, she was not an eager volunteer. It was more like she recoiled with repulsion. Was she into girls or something? That’d be cool if she was. Hell, I was a lover of love. Didn’t bother me who the participants were. But my gut told me no. Emma liked guys. She just didn’t like me. And something about her compelled me to change that.

  “So, I have a new goal for this summer.” I paused, waiting to hear if Dean had stopped laughing at me.

  “What’s that? To convince your new boss to let you dive into her deep end?”

  “Dude. You’re the only one dreaming of deep ends.” My Dad taught me early on that you never touch a woman unless she asks you to touch her. I don’t convince females to do anything with me. I’ve taken it one step further… I sort of like them to beg me.

  “No, my goal isn’t to just hook up with her, twat hole. It’s to get to know her. I need to understand how I turned her off so quickly, and then I plan on remedying that mistake.” It wasn’t a goal of world peace, or shit like that, but this was small town Indiana. I had to start somewhere. And if we ended up at the lake? You wouldn’t hear me complaining.

  ***

  I LOOKED IN the mirror of the pool dressing room and frowned. Since when did female lifeguards start wearing bikinis? Granted, these weren’t string bikinis—they were more like athletic two pieces—but still. They showed a lot more skin than the standard one piece I had worn in the past. This was most likely a decision made by the all-male, Viagra-using, board of the country club. They probably thought it would be entertaining to see young girls working at their pool in bikinis. Typical men.

  I was not amused.

  Unlocking the gates and opening the pool officially started my summer. Early morning at a pool was my favorite time. The air was cooler, the water smooth and calm, and the smell of fresh cut grass permeated the air. I didn’t like having to spend my days around the Richie Rich’s of the world, but I could appreciate the beautiful scenery surrounding me, courtesy of their checkbooks. I took a moment to enjoy the peace of the club before the craziness of the day began.

  The club house and pool grounds were surrounded by an expansive golf course in the valley below. The pool was L shaped, with the longer portion for laps and play, and the shorter portion housing the diving well and board. Off to the side was a fenced-in baby pool. Scattered throughout the area were small wrought iron tables and chairs, along with chaise lounges topped with thick, colorful cushions.

  The pool filled quickly, and soon I was climbing into the guard chair by the diving well. Landon walked the pool area, greeting guests and talking with many of the children. He was obviously a regular part of the summer routine for the members and was loved by the moms, kids, and of course, the teenage girls. I made a mental note to remind all of the guards to keep their flirting, especially with members, to non-pool hours.

  Landon had already ditched his T-shirt, and he was wearing only the red swim shorts that were the male lifeguard uniform. I couldn’t help but stare. I wasn’t a fan of cocky guys like him, but he was amazing to look at. He clearly worked har
d at maintaining his body. Every muscle was tight along his back and legs and the mountain emerging from bicep was enough to stop traffic. I had actually passed a group of grannies discussing his ass a few minutes ago. I thought about correcting them, that in reality he was an ass, but I skipped it.

  Not professional.

  All in all, it wasn’t the uppity crowd I had expected to be here. People seemed to obey the rules and were content to relax and have fun without ordering my staff around, like I had thought would be the case. The afternoon sun beat down as a group of golfers entered the area. They settled at a table close to the pool and motioned for a waitress. They were already drinking, and I knew we had to keep an eye on them.

  Landon and I were next up for a break, and I was doing one last walk of the pool perimeter to ensure members were strictly observing the rules about toys and flotation devices.

  “Look here, Gavin. Our new pool manager is a mighty fine addition to the staff. I bet she’d like to go up to the club house and see what a real man looks like.” The group of forty-something year olds looked me up and down with loose smiles and red eyes. Old guys were so gross. I didn’t get how they could think any young girl would find them attractive talking like that.

  The group laughed and continued talking quietly as I walked around the pool. I blew my whistle to signal the guards to change positions and hung back until they were settled. As I headed to the guard house, the guy who had spoken about me before called me over.

  “Hey, doll, what’s your name?” He sat back, leering at me while drinking his scotch. Wasn’t it a little early for a drink like that?

  I was intent on being polite. I really didn’t need to piss off the members on my first day. “Emma Harris, sir.”

  “Emma, Emma, Emma. How’d you like to have some fun this summer?” The old guy slurred his words and I tensed.

  There was that ‘fun’ word. I’m not considered a fun girl. I know this. My college roommate, Ashley, nicknamed me Bitter & Boring because she liked to imagine these ugly pessimistic twins inside me, always winning over any positivity or good times. I don’t know… I found Bitter & Boring quite witty and entertaining.