“Paddle around back.” He pointed a thumb behind him. “I’ll meet you.”
A minute later, he pulled her green canoe next to his blue one. Casper jumped out first and ran ahead. Miles waded into the water and held the boat steady as she got out. As they climbed the uneven rock steps, he held out his hand. His corded forearm muscles greeted her as he pulled her up to the top.
He kept hold of her hand, leading her to the back door. Those same hands used to gently untie her bikini strings and explore her goose-bumped skin. Avery reminded herself to be cautious. Whatever future she’d imagined for the two of them and this house at nineteen was no longer possible.
“It won’t take long.” He smiled. “A-frames don’t have many rooms. The real estate listing described it as cozy.”
A piece of her wanted to relax into a snug, simple life, fueled by his warmth, and never leave. But he dropped her hand, and a cloud moved in front of the warm sun. Her palm cooled in the breeze. A reminder that summers end, dreams die, and hearts break.
And at the first sign of frost, everyone leaves the lake.
Chapter Fourteen
Miles
June 14 – The Day Before the Day Before Opening Day
Miles dropped Avery’s hand because the last time he’d touched her, she’d let him down softly, as if he were an egg. The gentlethank you for being myfriendhadn’t stopped his shell from cracking. If staying friends mattered so much, he wanted to know why she’d kissed him. The only certainty was this house had once held their dreams. Those dreams depended on them being together. Currently, they drifted in an undefined space between ghosted silence and reconciliation. Every time they took a step forward, she put up the friend wall, deepening his frustration.
Once inside, Casper plodded behind and sniffed everything until he found the ideal napping spot in a patch of sun. Given Miles owned only a couple pieces of furniture, there were plenty of choices. No Boasofa, just his full-size childhood bed in an upstairs bedroom and a small card table in the kitchen nook.
From the second Avery removed her Vanderbilt baseball hat and placed it on the counter, her eyes never stopped sparkling. She gushed over the massive stone fireplace and mentioned the house had “good bones.” The short tour ended back in his kitchen, and Miles wanted her to stay. Picking a backsplash while a dog slept under a sunny window, making blueberry pancakes on Saturday mornings, doing theSunday Timescrossword. He’d give her anything she wanted.
He selected two small glass bottles of chocolate milk from the refrigerator and handed her one.
She removed the cap and raised her bottle in a toast.
“To your new memories in this old house. May they be happy.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” He clinked bottles with hers, drank, and let out his signature “Ahh” after his first sip.
She ran her hand over the white granite and traced a gold vein with her fingernail. “The counters came out beautifully.”
“I love them. Thanks for the help.” He rinsed their bottle caps and set them on a towel beside the sink.
Avery crossed to his side and carefully laid out the backsplash samples, holding each one up to see how it matched other things in the kitchen. Miles watched as she discarded two, one of which he’d previously deemed a frontrunner.
“Mimi always said decorating a room is like learning to play the piano,” she said as she propped the remaining tiles along the back of the counter. “It gets more complicated as you go. But you’ll know when you’ve got it right.”
He’d only met Mimi for a weekend, when she’d visited Montressa ten years ago, but Miles loved how Mimi’s charm enabled her to get away with telling the truth. Mimi had sensed Miles and Avery’s connection immediately.
“Mimi is the only grandmother I know who passed out condoms to her grandchildren.” Miles chuckled and watched Avery’s face flush.
“Only once.” Avery concentrated on the samples. “We were an anomaly.”
“I feel special,” he said into the bottle’s edge before taking a sip. “Every time I tell that story, it brings down the house.”
“Miles, I swear.” She shook her head and covered her eyes. Ah, her southern accent. He had flustered her enough to stretch out the long “I” in his name.
He gave her a second to let the blush fade from her cheeks.
When she regained her composure, Avery returned to the serious work of picking the backsplash. He recognized the same pensive face she made when she couldn’t decide what color to use next in a painting. She narrowed her eyes and shifted side to side, assessing the samples from different angles. Miles scanned her profile. Pretty eyelashes, simple stud earrings, and full lips, twisted in thought.
Those lips had fueled his fantasies the past few nights. HHe wanted to kiss her again. Linger for a while. Explore her everywhere. Unaware of his desire, Avery started talking about ceramic versus glass tile.
He sighed and came back to the present moment.
She discarded another sample, propped the remaining choices against the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, and settled next to him. They both stared at the samples. It made him feel better to see her struggling with a task Wes described aseasy peasy.
