Swan Creek, CS AU, romantic One Shot
Teen, adult situations and language
Description: Emma runs a camping resort on a lake. She looks forward to a certain visitor every year, Killian Jones. When he arrives, she's never bored.
Author's Note: Inspired by my recent weekend at Branson, Missouri, in the US. This is basically where I stayed. Unfortunately, there was no handsome, brooding fisherman present.
3577 words
Swan Creek
Emma Swan was bored working at Swan Creek Resort. It was the same thing every day. People asked for boats, fishing licenses needed to be arranged, cabins had to be cleaned, and drunk guests needed corralling.
It had been her way of life since she was small, living here with her parents. They named the camping-fishing-boat resort after themselves. She rolled her eyes now as everyone asked where the swans were. Heck, there wasn't even a creek. There was just one Swan and the lake. It was a nice lake, clean and cold, perfect for trout. It was stocked by a nearby fish hatchery so it was popular with the fishing folk. In fact there were many resorts on the lake.
Swan Creek wasn't ritzy. It had simple campgrounds for those who were into truly roughing it. Over the years RV sites had been added along with bathhouses and a do-it yourself laundry room. The original two small cabins had been joined by eighteen more, in different sizes with a varying range of amenities.
It was a successful, reasonably priced camp resort. Now she was the owner and she had all the headaches. She knew it would be difficult running the place by herself. She was tough though, so she could handle it.
She wasn't prepared for the boredom. Even the beauty of the area had become mundane.
The hills boxed the resort in on all sides. In the spring the area was green and lush. In the summer it was hot and humid. The fall made a kaleidoscope out of the colors in the trees. The winter was cold, quiet and lonely.
She weathered the busy, sometimes obnoxious times of the peak summer season. It wasn't that she hated people, it was just that they could be so dumb.
Her favorite times were the spring, just before the season began and the fall, just after the end of season.
It was simply a coincidence that those were the two times of year that he showed up.
Killian Jones had been coming since she took ownership of the resort. He came a few weeks after she opened in March. He stayed at least a month, sometimes longer, but he always abandoned her before the tourists flocked the resort in May.
In September, she would take a deep breath, relaxing to the quiet of the resort. She anticipated his return. He never let her down, rolling in sometimes in the middle of the night.
Mostly he kept to himself. He had his own boat. Unlike some of the tourists, he kept it in excellent shape. He could sail better than anyone on the lake, including her.
When she knew he was taking his boat out, she'd conveniently find some business to tend to outside. She'd watch him load his sleek, black vessel.
She smiled as his perfect abs clung to his shirt. His biceps rippled as he untied the ropes. She licked her lips as he bent over. It was a perfect view, the kind of scenery she preferred nowadays.
She'd look away, cheeks flushed when he caught her. He'd smile but go on with his business. Then he'd sail off and she'd feel a kind of hollowness until his return.
Funny how he always stopped off at the office after his boating trips. He didn't have any real reason. It was his boat. He didn't have to turn it in. He could work the gas pump himself and pay her in the morning. He always appeared in the office though, even if all he did was walk around.
It was also funny how she, who hated working late, always managed to have a reason to keep the office open until he got back, even if it was well past office hours.
Sometimes they'd make chit chat. She'd ask how the sailing was. He'd reply that it was fine. He might complain about people on the lake who were "not fit for sailing". She'd laugh and they'd start exchanging stories about such "idiots."
Usually they had an unspoken routine. She knew what to keep in stock for him. He often forgot meat seasoning, he needed a coffee in the morning and had a taste for Irish creamer. He liked to have bologna sandwiches when he sailed. These things were always in stock even though he was the only one who ever bought the creamer.
He knew his way around the office, helping himself to what he needed. He grabbed the local paper with one hand, deftly knocking the sports section free. He'd sit at the small table and read it, trading glances with the pretty owner.
They had check-in times down like pit stops at a car race. She always gave him the same cabin. He never asked to change.
He'd grab the forms and fill them out in record time while she arranged his licenses for him. She knew the information so well.
He helped himself to the rum kept high on a shelf behind the counter. She always kept his favorite in stock. He tipped her with cocoa mix as she laughed.
"It's my favorite," she'd say.
"I know," he answered with a grin.
Sometimes she would catch him staring at her. She knew he caught her lingering a little too long on those blue eyes.
He nodded his thanks and left the office. She watched him walk the short distance to his cabin. He'd always look back just before he went inside.
She sighed, closed up for the night and they replayed it all the next day, the next time, or the next season.
One year she realized something was off when he arrived. He was unkempt, his eyes dark. He barely looked at her and didn't smile. He didn't buy rum, yet she could smell it on him. It was overpowering.
He tossed the money for the cabin with no thanks. There was no cocoa tip.
He vanished into his cabin. There were no boat trips, no fishing, no flirtations. She knocked on his door, asking if he needed clean towels. There was no answer. The cabin was dark.
Finally after two weeks she let herself in, just to make sure he hadn't died.
The cabin was a sight, so was he. They both smelled horrible. He lay still in bed, liquor bottles and half eaten food all around him.
"Mr. Jones?"
There was no reply.
"Hey, are you alright?"
He answered by taking a long sip of rum and belching.
Oh, hell no, she thought. He was not doing this. She marched to the bed and and fought him for the bottle.
"Leave me the hell alone!"
"You're on my property, buddy," she said. "I make the rules." He glared at her. "What's gotten into you?" she asked.
"None of your damn business."
"It is my business! You can't come in here and trash my cabin like this."
He rolled to the side table and grabbed a wad of cash, throwing it at her. "That'll pay for the trouble, I'm sure."
She glared back at him. "I'm not letting you die on me." He stared at her. She blushed. "I...uh, I mean, if you want to die, do it somewhere else."
He scoffed. "Sorry to inconvenience you," he spat.
"We all have our problems, Jones, this pity party isn't the answer."
"Oh, then enlighten me. What is? Hmm? Throw myself into work? Ogle the handsome visitors that pass by?" She turned red. "Maybe I should be a cold fish like you," he said with a cold chuckle.
She kicked the bed. "What the hell did I do?"
He sighed. "Nothing. You're right. I'm sorry, Swan."
"Look...shape up or you can leave!"
She began to stomp out but heard him mutter, "I've nowhere to go, Swan. I've...no one, nothing to live for."
She stared at him. Slowly she crossed back to the bed. "I'm sure that's not true."
"It is."
"Tell me why."
He began to tell his life. He tearfully explained how long ago he'd loved a woman and lost her. He told her about his brother who'd also died. He'd drifted into a web of sex, alcohol and crime.
He looked up at her. "Then I found this place. I finally found solace here, at Swan Creek."
She smiled. "It works for some people," she said with a laugh. "Of course, I find a considerable amount of headaches too."
"I'm unhappy the rest of the year, Swan. Only here I feel at peace.
She took his hand. "Good. I, um...I've lost people too." She told him about her first love, how she abandoned her parents and ran off with him.
He left her but she was too ashamed to come back home. Her vanity cost her time with her folks. They died in an accident while she was away.
"I'm so sorry, Swan."
She nodded. "I hate this place but," and she sighed, "I love it too."
"We're much alike."
"Yeah. Look, why don't you take a shower. I'll make us something to eat, then you can help me clean this place up."
He sighed deeply. "Ok," he said finally.
As the weeks passed, he cleaned and cheered up. He spent more time at the office. He helped her with paperwork, checking other visitors in, getting them licenses.
She went out with him on his boat after work. They took turns cleaning and cooking the fish they caught.
For the first time in a long time neither one felt alone.
One day as he was hanging out in the office, a call came in. After a short conversation,
Emma slammed the receiver down. "Damn it!"
Killian raised his eyebrow. "That does not bode well."
She sighed. "No. I'm screwed."
"Do tell."
She crossed her arms. "Never mind."
He stared at her. "Swan…"
She shook her head. "It's my problem, Killian."
He leaned across the counter. "I've never seen you so vexed. Tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing."
He scoffed. "Love, I've been coming here long enough to know when you're fibbing." He gently stroked her hair. "You've helped me, Emma, even when I didn't want it. Allow me to return the favor."
She looked at him and softened. She smiled weakly. "Thanks, but there isn't anything you can do."
"Are you sure?"
They were interrupted by several cars pulling in.
"Shit," Emma mumbled.
The office was swarmed with tourists. One large man smiled at her. "We're here for the lake tour."
Emma turned red. "I'm sorry, there's been an unforeseen problem."
The man shook his head and dropped the smile. "We booked four months ago! These people paid me good money, Lady, if I don't take them out I have to refund them all! You're going to pay for it!"
"Whoa, buddy, roll back the attitude," she said.
He narrowed his eyes and got in her face. "Don't mess with me, sweetheart. You don't know who you're talking to."
"I don't care!" she yelled, then caught herself. The customer was always right, she reminded herself. She forced herself to calm down. She even smiled. "Please let me explain…"
He rolled his eyes. "Honey, why don't you run and get the boss man, huh?" He looked at a group of men. "Why do they always put the dumb blondes on the front desk?"
"Excuse me?" she asked. She opened her mouth to educate him on a thing or two, but Killian beat her to it.
He pounced on the man, grabbing him by the neck. "Do not speak to her in such a manner! She is the proprietor and a damn good one!"
"Get your hands off me!"
"Killian, it's fine," she said gently. She laid her hand on his back. "Let him go." He turned to her and she smiled. Then she mouthed. "I got this."
He chuckled and nodded, releasing the man and taking a step back.
She turned to the outraged travel agent. "Like I said, there was an unforeseen problem. I can't help it. I don't have anyone to drive the boat."
The man, while massaging his neck, laughed, loud and mocking. "It's a boat resort, you dimwit!"
Killian growled.
Emma took a deep breath. She forced a smile. "I'm very sorry. My boat guy just canceled on me, there's nothing I can do."
The man turned purple. "What the hell do I do with all these people?"
"Emma, can't you take them?" Killian asked. He smiled. "You're quite adept at handling a boat, Love."
"A small fishing boat, yeah, but I'm not qualified to ferry large groups."
The travel agent now let loose with a long stream of curse words.
"Hey! Watch your language," said Emma.
The rest of the group began to get rowdy.
"There's still plenty to do here." Emma said. "We have nature hikes, fishing off the docks...lots of alcohol."
The travel agent wasn't amused. "I'm going to sue you, Lady!" He turned to Killian. "You too! You can't manhandle me like that!"
The office broke into loud yelling and shouting.
Killian tried to get Emma's attention but it was difficult. Finally he put his fingers to his lips and made a loud, shrill whistle that halted the melee. Everyone stared at him.
"Love, may I use your phone?"
Her mouth dropped open. "Killian, I'm kind of busy."
He smirked. "I'm aware. Trust me."
She looked at him with confusion but moved so he could use the phone.
The travel agent groaned. "If we could get back to our problem?"
Killian laughed. He smirked at Emma and tossed down an identification card that she had never seen.
She stared at it. "You're…"
"A licensed, registered Captain," he said with a large, proud grin. "I'm not coast guard approved for public tours but that shouldn't be hard to rectify. I have many contacts."
He spoke into the phone. "Hello, Billy Boy! I need a favor. Can you get me okayed to conduct a public boat tour on short notice? Yes, that's right, I said a tour." He laughed. "I thought I'd give it a go. At Swan Creek Resort, Lake Misthaven. Yes, I'm still current in all my credentials. You can? Excellent! You're the man, Mate. Thanks."
He hung up the phone and smiled. At the same time the fax machine ran. "That's my authorization coming through."
Emma took the papers and laughed. "Why didn't you tell me you were a real captain?"
He shrugged. "You never asked."
She laughed. "I guess not."
"Ahem, does this mean…" began the travel agent.
"Yes, the tour is back on," said Emma. She and Killian smiled at each other.
The group cheered with excitement.
Emma kissed Killian's cheek. "Thank you."
He blushed. "Don't mention it, Love. I could use some help though. Will you be my co-tour guide?"
She chuckled. "Why not?"
They ushered the group onto the boat and took them out on the lake. Killian was excellent with both the boat and passengers. The women especially loved him.
Emma loved how relaxed he was. She gave a little tour, pointing out places and sights. Surprisingly she enjoyed it.
Time went quickly and they brought the happy people back. The tour guide was pleased, even tipping them generously.
"That went well," she said.
He nodded. "It was pleasant."
She smiled at him. "How about dinner?"
He stared at her, noticing how her hair glowed in the setting sun. "That sounds lovely."
She invited him home, to the house beside the office. "Luckily I have some fish in the freezer from our last trip."
He looked around the home. It was clean and homey, decorated in bright yellows. "Can I help?"
She smiled and opened the deck door. "Light the grill?"
He bowed. "As you wish."
They talked while they grilled. It was cozy but casual. They continued talking and laughing into the night.
The next day she greeted him in the office with a coffee. "I have a proposition for you."
His eyebrow jumped up. "I'm breathless with anticipation."
She laughed. "How would you like to work for me, as a tour captain?"
He smiled. "I think it sounds enchanting."
She chuckled. "Could you...I mean, would you want to stay all season? And if it goes well...keep coming back?" She bit her lip.
He smiled reassuringly. "You know I'm happy here, Swan."
"Yeah, as a guest."
"I'm sure you're a hard boss, Love, but I've worked for some downright tyrants. I think I can handle it."
She smiled, her whole body tingling. " I hope so."
They began working together and to her delight, it was fantastic. She found herself falling in love...with Swan Creek again. Yeah, Swan Creek.
Killian was so happy. Working with Emma was even better than being a guest.
As the season passed, they grew closer.
One morning they were in the office, beginning the day. Emma stretched across him to reach something on a shelf. He groaned.
"What?"
He licked his lip, focusing on her tight top. "You look...especially...well...this morning."
She laughed and blushed. "Thanks…" She stared at his eyes. They were so intense. He stepped beside her. His scent was intoxicating. "Hmm, you smell good."
He chuckled as she turned bright red. "You smell heavenly, as always," he whispered.
Her heart was thumping as she reached up to touch that luscious hair. He stretched his arm around her. He was so warm.
She leaned into his embrace. He caressed her cheeks, his finger finally resting on her lips.
She pushed onto her toes and he bent down. It began as a gentle kiss but quickly turned needy.
"I want you," he whispered.
"Me too."
They kissed again, this time their hands explored each other.
She pushed him onto the floor. His hands roamed over her rear end. She pulled up his shirt. He groaned as they kissed.
"Emma, are you sure?"
"Yes," she answered breathlessly.
He kissed down her neck as he coaxed her pants off.
She gasped as he touched her. "No fair...you're still mostly...dressed."
He chuckled. "Then fix it."
She giggled and unzipped him.
"You're so beautiful. I need you."
"Hmm, I'm ready."
He kissed her again and moved into position.
"Oh, yes...Killian…"
"Emma…"
Just as things were getting good, she heard the door jingle. He chuckled as she pushed him off and hurriedly dressed.
She greeted the customer, a little disheveled and out of breath. She checked the oblivious lady out, as Killian lay hidden and naked on the floor, silently laughing.
Once the customer left, she kicked her captain in the shin.
"It's not funny!"
He reached up and pulled her down. "No, it's not," he admitted. "I'm in considerable distress."
"Serves you right," she said, but didn't stop him from helping her out of her clothes.
They then eagerly finished their "business."
As the season drew to a close she dreaded him leaving.
"I'll be back," he reassured her, lying beside her in her bed. "You can trust me, Swan."
She nodded. "I just wish you didn't have to leave."
"As do I, but I must make arrangements in order to remain with you next season."
"I know." She sighed and twisted so she was lying on his chest. "I'll just miss you."
He kissed her hand. "Believe me, Emma I will miss you more."
She chuckled. "It's not a competition," she said, fondling his chest hair. "And you will not."
He laughed.
Their last night was passionate as they slowly savored each other.
She kissed him deeply the morning he left, urging herself not to cry. He tenderly stroked her cheek, trying to remember every single millimeter of her skin.
Winter passed slowly. She longed for every single phone call. They all went too fast. Eventually March came.
She sat at the office counter staring out the window. She shone like the sun when she heard a vehicle. She grinned wider as the familiar black truck appeared.
She ran out to greet him, jumping into his arms. He spun her around, both of them laughing. They kissed long and passionately.
"I thought you'd never get here," she whispered.
"Me either."
She looked at the trailer behind his truck, piled high with stuff. "You brought enough."
"Didn't I tell you?" he asked. He smirked. "I'm not leaving this time."
She burst into a wide grin. "I wasn't going to let you."
He scooped her into his arms.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked with a laugh.
He grinned widely as he strolled into the office. "Behind our counter, obviously."
She giggled. "I installed new plush carpet by the way."
He set her on the counter and locked the door. "How thoughtful. I love how in sync we are."
"Me too." He plastered her with a kiss as they disappeared behind the counter.
That season his cabin had new renters as he moved into her home. At the end of the season, he kept his vow and stayed.
That winter was the first in which neither of them felt lonely.
The following spring a black-haired, sassy little girl was born. The year after that, the Swan Creek family grew again with the addition of a green-eyed baby boy.
The same year, Emma became Mrs. Jones. The resort however retained the Swan name. They ran the place together, making time for family fishing trips, cozy campfires, and snuggles behind the counter.
The End