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Chapter Fifteen. At the end of their first week at Lake Travis, Lark had finally worn Sheridan down and made her at least consider working in the pool

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At the end of their first week at Lake Travis, Lark had finally worn Sheridan down and made her at least consider working in the pool. The last few days and nights had been hot and humid, and the hot weather constantly warmed the pool.

Sheridan now sat next to the enclosed sixty- by thirty-foot pool. Her father had built it when Sheridan moved back to San Antonio, hoping it would help her overcome her fear of water. She had used it only a few times, more than she had ever swum in the lake. She couldn't explain her fear of water; she only knew it had always existed.

"Mr. Johnson is going to join us," Lark said from behind her.

Sheridan felt her palms grow sweaty at the sight of Lark, dressed in a black swimsuit like elite swimmers used. Lark looked fantastic, toned in a way that was still incredibly feminine, with denned muscles under satin skin. She looked so comfortable Sheridan nearly bolted, if it was possible to bolt in a wheelchair. Sheridan figured it was. Finally, Lark's words registered.

"Mr. Johnson? Why?"

"I can't help you into the water on my own. It's not safe. After we practice getting you out of the wheelchair and onto the floor or ground, and back up again on your own, then we can do this by ourselves. You have a way to go there yet. Also, your fear of water could be a problem before you become used to this particular exercise." Lark opened a large plastic bag that Sheridan had just noticed. "Here's what we'll need. I found these stored in the pool house." She pulled out several different floating devices, and Sheridan felt a bit less stressed.

"I'm going to wear arm-floaters?" she asked sardonically. "They're for kids!"

"Brilliant, huh? They'll keep you afloat no matter what, but I won't leave you for a second. I'll hold onto you the entire time."

Always something. "All right. How do we do this?"

"Since we don't have a ramp or lift here, at least not yet, I had to be a bit clever." Lark looked adorable when she wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. "I'll grab one of the recliners."

She removed the cushions from one of the chairs that lined the fence and pulled it to where Sheridan sat. "Look, the bottom third of the recliner can be folded as a ramp, almost." She nipped the end of the chair down so it met the ground. "Here's what we'll do. Mr. Johnson and I'll help you onto the recliner, and then I'll go into the water as he helps you slide down into my arms." Lark blushed unexpectedly. "Eh, well. You'll be wearing the arm-floaters, so you'll be fine. The water is at least eighty degrees."

"It's not the cold that's bothering me."

"I know. But it'd add more negativity, I think, if the water was cold. Ah, here's Mr. Johnson. Great that you could join us."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to help Ms. Ward." Mr. Johnson stood next to Lark, smiling down at her as if he had practically adopted her. Lark in turn patted his arm and smiled that open, immediate smile that made a person want to make it reappear. Mr. Johnson was no exception; he straightened his back and regarded them both with equal parts protectiveness and enthusiasm. "What do you want me to do, Ms. Mitchell?"

"Call me Lark, please."

Mr. Johnson looked nonplussed. "Eh, thank you, Ms. Mitch— Lark. I'm Burt."

Sheridan blinked. As with Erica, her attempts to get on a first-name basis with Mr. or Mrs. Johnson had been fruitless. Her expression didn't pass Mr. Johnson by, and he shrugged helplessly. "She ambushed me, ma'am."

"Since she did, you can hardly keep calling me Ms. Ward, can you?" Sheridan asked sweetly. "I think I win."

"Hmm." Lark looked back and forth between them. "I think I win, actually. So, Burt, meet Sheridan—Sheridan, this is Burt, your new PT assistant. You may have to give him a raise, for doing double duty."

Sheridan had to laugh at the expression of shock on Burt's face. "No problem," she said, feigning sincerity but meaning every word.

"Good." Lark grinned, then told Burt how to help Sheridan onto the low recliner. Lark gave her the arm-floaters, then slipped into the water. She smiled broadly before she went under completely, and Sheridan felt a tinge of concern that she might be expected to do the same. God, I'm going to seem like such a wimp.

"All right, Burt, move Sheridan forward, slowly, but let her be in control. No sudden movements."

Burt was gentle as Sheridan glided toward the water. She wore boxers and a sports bra, and it was easier than she thought to push herself forward. Her feet made contact with the water, which was as warm as Lark had promised. Sheridan dug deep for courage and pushed forward, but she used a bit too much force and landed in the water with a splash. Her useless legs did nothing to support her, and she clung to Lark.

"There, there," Lark hummed in her ear. "You're fine. Let go and you'll see that you can float. Like that. One arm at a time."

Sheridan refused to be such a coward and slowly let go of Lark. To her relief, the arm-floaters easily held her body up. She extended her arms, which elevated her even more.

"Great. I'll take it from here. Unless you hear me call, you can come back in fifteen or twenty minutes, Burt."

"Y'all sure you're fine here alone?" Burt didn't look convinced.

"Yes. I've done this many times, both with adults and children. Sheridan is perfectly safe."

"All right. I'll be near the bungalow weeding, and I have my cell if you can't yell that loud."

"Good. I have the phone nearby. We'll be fine."

Sheridan wished she could believe that statement wholeheartedly. Instead, she looked at Lark and tried to focus on her attractive exterior. Anything to keep from panicking.

"All right. We're going to start with some floating exercises that you'll find useful. I take it you can swim but just don't like it."

"Correct."

"Then lay back here, with your head in my hands, and I'll pull you backward. You'll feel your legs come to the surface—"

"I don't want my head wet."

"You won't. I promise. I'll keep you high and dry."

"All right." Sheridan drew a trembling breath and leaned back. Lark's hands were in her hair and steadied her head and neck, keeping the top of her neck pressed against Lark's soft breasts. The contact was unexpectedly intimate and Sheridan felt herself grow heavy. Fortunately, she floated just as before.

"Now I'm going to swim backward using only my legs, and you can help by moving your arms as if you're doing the backstroke, but with smaller movements. Let's go."

The water moved like an entity around Sheridan, and her blood seemed to flow in the same kind of waves through her veins.

"Relax. You're really stiff. Don't try to do anything. Just float with me." Lark's voice was hypnotic, and she kept reassuring Sheridan. Even if her words were impersonal, her tone suggested intimate endearments. Eventually, when nothing unpleasant had occurred, Sheridan managed to relax in Lark's hands.

"That's it. Great! Now begin to move your arms. Never mind your legs. They're floating. Move your arms in a slow circle. It doesn't matter how."

Sheridan did as Lark said and felt that she actually helped propel them a little faster. "How am I doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Wonderfully. I'm proud that you're doing this. Just look at you." Lark spoke close to Sheridan's ear. She felt Lark's breath against her cheek, and the intimacy made her skin tingle.

Sheridan kept moving her arms in increasingly bigger circles and found she took pleasure in the resistance that the water provided. Stronger these days from wheeling herself around, she managed almost another lap. Sheridan stopped, gasping, and turned within Lark's arms. Without thinking, she wrapped her own around Lark and hugged her. "That was fantastic. Thank you."

Lark returned the hug, and Sheridan couldn't help but moan when their bodies pressed together. She wanted to keep holding onto Lark, but knew this wouldn't happen. Reluctantly she let go, smiling at Lark's pink cheeks.

"You did so well. Much better than I could have hoped. I know how you feel about water, so the fact that you swam around the pool almost two laps is pretty awesome." Lark beamed, and her blush emphasized the glitter in her eyes.

"You did most of the work," Sheridan objected.

"Not true. Most of the time, my feet were off the bottom. You pushed us both with just your arms. Now, do you believe me when I say that you'll swim on your own soon?"

Startled, Sheridan gazed around the pool area.

"Hold on there. Not today!" Lark shook her head. "We're going to do some stretching while we're in the warm water, which you will find much less of a pain in the a—" Lark blushed even deeper. "Less of a discomfort."

"Pain in the ass is a good description." Sheridan winked. "Don't edit yourself. I like it when you're casual around me."

Lark's eyes grew into two dark pools full of undecipherable emotions. "All right. You sure, though? I can sometimes plant my foot pretty firmly in my mouth. Shoe and all."

Sheridan laughed. "You could chew on alligator boots, for all I care. I'd still like the unembellished truth."

Something passed over Lark's face, perhaps a sense of doubt? Granted, Sheridan hadn't allowed much leeway or forgiven very readily so far, but surely Lark knew that things had changed between them? Realizing that they were still holding onto each other, Sheridan let go of Lark. She searched Lark's expression for signs of anger or displeasure, and was totally taken aback when Lark suddenly tossed her head back and laughed.

"What?"

"You. You can be so funny." Lark held on to the ledge while she unleashed another fit of laughter. "And what's more, look. Isn't it great? You're floating all by yourself and you're laughing!"

The laughter nearly closed Sheridan's airways, but she grinned broadly when she noticed that Lark was telling the truth. She was floating, with the help of her arm-floaters, relaxed and carrying on a flirtatious conversation in the pool. Flirtatious? Yes, that was it. It was there in Lark's eyes, their glitter and the way she squinted with her head tilted to the side. Her hair laid slicked back against her head, revealing a tall, rounded forehead.

"Imagine that." Sheridan moved in close to Lark and placed her hands on her shoulder. "I just think it's safer like this."

"Oh, yeah?"

Lark didn't push her away so Sheridan slid closer. "Yes. I do. I feel much... safer, this way."

"You're trying to change the subject so I'll forget the rest of our exercises."

"No, no. Not at all. This is just while we're on a break." Sheridan cupped Lark's chin. "Keep still. You have something on your lips." She stroked her thumb along Lark's bottom lip once, then again, wiping away a tiny blade of grass that had glued itself there. "Better."

"Thank you," Lark whispered, sounding as if her breath was out of sync. "Sheridan—"

"You're welcome. Lark. By the way. How did your parents come up with a name like Lark?"

"I was born ruffled, my mom says." Lark touched Sheridan's lingering hand. "Lots of dark hair standing on end."

"No doubt just as cute." Sheridan knew as the words had just left her lips that she'd said something she didn't mean to.

"I'm cute?" Lark wrinkled her nose. "I'm nearly thirty! Cuteness, if any, is long gone."

Sheridan laughed, nervous, but also feeling happier than she had in a while. She couldn't remember laughing at all, after the illness. "You make it sound like you're an old woman. Cuteness, babe, is in the eyes of the beholder."

"Babe?" Lark's eyes grew wide. She blinked several times and then the now-familiar blush crept up her cheeks.

"Geez, I managed to call you cute and babe within one minute, didn't I?" Sheridan groaned, but couldn't keep the wide grin from her face.

"A record?" Lark splashed some water on Sheridan.

"It must be. I don't remember calling anyone cute before."

"I suppose it's good to be original." Lark inched away, and now her smile faded to polite. "Have to remember that for future reference when I need leverage."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being cute."

"Children are cute, Sheridan. Dogs, cats, or other pets are cute. The word implies belittling. And if you add babe to that...it finishes the imagery off, doesn't it?"

Sheridan simply didn't know what to say.

"Would you like it if anyone called you cute?"

About to argue the preposterousness of the whole idea, Sheridan slammed her jaw shut. Lark had a point, a very valid point. There was nothing wrong with being cute. Sure. "I'm sorry. I've honestly never thought of it that way. I don't like condescending people and certainly don't want to be one myself" Sheridan grasped Lark's shoulders and pulled her closer. "If I ever blurt out something along the lines of 'cute' or 'babe' again, please hit me over the head."

Lark studied her for a moment, her eyes piercing and sharp, belying their soft color. Slowly, her expression softened and her eyes sparkled again. "Over the head? Nah, I have better ways of getting someone's undivided attention."

Relief washed through Sheridan, and she knew they were back on track. What exact track or toward what, she had no idea. She only knew that she felt as if she'd stopped a train wreck from happening.

"Y'all ought to be growin' gills by now."

Burt's dark voice sent them flying apart.

Sheridan lifted her arms and, when she did that, the floaters moved upward and she sank a few inches. Water on her face made her splutter and cough for a few seconds before Lark grabbed her.

"I've got you! Sheridan, you're okay." Lark pressed her close. "Take a couple of slow, deep breaths."

Sheridan wrapped her arms around Lark's shoulders, unafraid, which was beyond amazing, really, but all she could think about was how well their bodies fit together. "I'm okay."

"Yes. Yes. Okay. That's it. You're okay." Lark obviously thought Sheridan's faint voice was due to her fear in the water. "I won't let go."

"I'm fine. Really. And weirdly enough." Sheridan let go of Lark with one hand and pushed drenched hair out of her face. "Just a bit taken off guard. No thanks to you." She glared mockingly at Burt, who merely shrugged and grinned. Sheridan had never seen him look this mischievous, for lack of a better word to describe the sparkle in the man's eyes.

"We might as well call it quits and do more of our bar exercises after lunch," Lark said. "Burt, it's time to help Sheridan out of the water. We're beginning to look like prunes."

With Lark's help, Burt lifted Sheridan out, and soon she sat on the recliner with a towel around her shoulders. "This did wonders for my confidence, when it comes to the pool, anyway. I'm not so sure I'd be as daring in the lake, so I hope you won't come up with any ideas like that."

"I'm only interested in having you with me in the water for PT reasons. I promise not to plot to send you swimming across Lake Travis."

"How kind." Sheridan wrapped a towel around her hair. "Time for a shower."

Her bathroom had undergone a makeshift accessibility overhaul, and she was confident that she'd manage on her own. Three weeks ago, she'd never have believed she'd gain so much independence in such a short time.

Is it because Lark is even more stubborn than I am Lark took advantage of every situation to train her body, and Sheridan's newfound confidence was undeniably why she was overcoming some of her fears. Though she deliberately shied away from thinking about how Lark's proximity affected her, an inner voice insisted that part of her recent success was because she wanted to impress Lark.

Back in her wheelchair, Sheridan rolled into her bathroom. As she gazed into the mirror, she thought she could detect the remnants of her bout with desire, a faint glow deep in her eyes. Her sex felt more alive than it had in a long time, and her aching nipples weren't hard only because of the cooling swimwear. Sheridan remembered the feel of her thumb caressing Lark's lips, and she wondered how it would have felt to cover them with her own and taste all that softness.

Startled, Sheridan put a stop to her train of thought. She couldn't afford to do anything to repel Lark, in case she made good on her threat to quit her job if Sheridan didn't stick to their therapy plan. Should be easy. I never mix business with pleasure. Sheridan tried to be pragmatic, but her reaction in the pool had shifted from laughter to desire and back again so fast, she wasn't sure it wouldn't happen again.

Sheridan got ready for the shower and slid over to the plastic garden stool that doubled as a shower chair. The hot water rinsed off the smell of chlorine, but she could still feel Lark's arms around her. It was amazing how safe she'd felt.


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Читайте в этой же книге: Chapter Three 1 страница | Chapter Three 2 страница | Chapter Three 3 страница | Chapter Three 4 страница | Chapter Three 5 страница | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen |
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Chapter Fourteen| Chapter Sixteen

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