Borrowing Trouble Read Free

and the birds. I sank into an Adirondack chair and drifted in and out of soft daydreams.
    “Hey, you hungry?” Trip called from inside the house. I turned to see him pulling a gray t-shirt over his head.
    “Yes, what’s the plan?”
    “You like pancakes? I make mean pancakes.”
    “Pancakes would be amazing. Any luck on coffee and bacon?”
    “I just switched the coffeemaker on. No dice on the bacon. And, before you get your expectations up, it’s just pancakes. From a mix. I add water and stir,” said Trip, emerging onto the porch in plaid boxers and a faded Memphis Grizzlies t-shirt. “Nothing fancy.”
    “I had zero expectations about breakfast, so you are greatly exceeding them.”
    “Any other expectations of yours I’m exceeding?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked smile. The clear morning light made his blue eyes sparkle.
    “Let me think,” I said, allowing my fingers to trail along my collarbone as I looked out at the ocean and paused in thought. “No. This is pretty much what I thought.”
    “You thought we’d be up having sex until two am and then I’d make you breakfast?”
    “Yup,” I replied, nodding.
    “Tell me what else you think is going to happen this weekend,” said Trip, crossing his arms across his chest.
    “Well, I’m pretty sure after breakfast that you’re going to want to have sex again and then take me on a bike ride, probably have lunch, then more sex, and dinner, and then more sex.”
    “Interesting. Let me go get started on breakfast because that sounds like an incredible day you have planned for us, Miss Tanner.”
    ***
    “I don’t know how much more I can take,” I panted.
    “Need me to slow down?”
    “Or even stop,” I begged. I hopped off my bike, ripped off my helmet, and flopped to the ground in the middle of the paved bike path.
    Trip pulled his bike up next to my sprawled form. “Sorry. I know running uses different muscles. I should have paid more attention to the pace, but you were keeping up so well that I just kept going.”
    The warmth of the blacktop seeped into my tired muscles. “Let me know if someone comes because otherwise, I’m just not moving. How far did we go?”
    “About twelve miles. Going at pretty good clip, too,” said Trip, handing me a water bottle.
    “I feel like we’ve gone to the moon and back. My legs are Jell-O,” I said, taking a big swig from the water bottle before passing it back to him.
    “We’ll break for lunch soon.”
    “Yes. Lunch. How much further?”
    “Well, tough cookie, I hate to tell you this, but lunch is about three miles away. Near the lighthouse.” I groaned. “Options – walk or ride. We’ll go as slow as you need and I can promise you beer at the end.”
    “Beer? I just want a shower, a PowerAde, and a nap.”
    “But there is excellent barbeque and oysters and beer up ahead,” he replied in a sing-song tone designed to entice kittens, puppies, and toddlers.
    “Ahead? So this means that we’re going to have to ride back? I’m completely bushed, Trip.”
    “Nah. I called Miss Prewitt, the caretaker, this morning. After we eat she’s going to bring a truck to fetch us and we can throw the bikes in the back.”
    “I thought you didn’t have a car here. You mean we didn’t have to ride bikes this far just to get lunch?”
    Trip laughed. “I don’t have a car here. My family keeps a truck here, but I don’t use a car when I’m on the island. I learned my way around on a bike when I was about twelve and that’s just how I like to get around.”
    “So, is that where the love of bikes came from?”
    “I don’t know. Probably. I just don’t like being trapped in a car unless I have to be.”
    “And that makes total sense with your car collection.”
    “I’m a complicated man,” he shrugged, digging around in a saddlebag. He pulled out a camera and turned towards me, but I hadn’t moved from the pavement. “Hey, you.”
    I lifted my head in time to hear the shutter