“They’re convinced we messed up their water hookup, and I can’t make him understand he needs a new hose because his wife put it in his head we’re greedy and just trying to sell them a new hose.”
“Damn. I was really hoping we could all retire on the profit from that hose.”
Rob laughed, his body relaxing into the chair. “I finally just walked away because I don’t know what else to tell him. It’s the hose fitting, not the water hookup.”
“Ten bucks says next time they come up, they replace the hose and the problem’s fixed but they won’t admit it. They’re just not going to say any more about it, and they’ll feel good we didn’t get the money for the hose and they can find something else to complain about.”
“Yeah, and it’s opening weekend for them. Once they’re settled in, we mostly just hear from the seasonals when they need propane or wood. Or when they come into the store just to grab something really quick and end up talking for three hours.”
“I have a hard time imagining Brian doing this,” Danny said. Brian had the shortest temper of all of them, and was the least likely to be patient with a grown man whining about a rubber hose.
“We do a lot of venting to each other to let off steam.” Rob chuckled. “And we split a lot of wood up in the pit.”
“Where’s Hannah? Is she being smart and hiding in the house?”
“She’s visiting the Scotts on twenty-eight.”
“That’s right. She was on the site next to them last year when she was just trying to get away from everything and you went back there and swept her off her feet.”
He chuckled. “It wasn’t quite that simple, but yeah. She hit it off with Melissa and the boys like her, so she went up to visit. And Hannah’s really awesome about helping, but I try not toexpectit, you know? She has a career of her own. And hey, speaking of careers, how are you doing with those edits?”
He grunted, trying to wave off the question, but his brother didn’t even blink. “I’m still processing them. They’re definitely not as bad as I feared they might be—and would have been if Kenzie hadn’t gotten me back on track—but some of the suggestions aren’t sitting well with me, so we’ll see.”
“Have you run them by Kenzie yet?”
“No.” He picked up his pen, tapping it against the notebook. “Like Hannah, Kenzie has her own stuff—alotof stuff—and I don’t want to keep taking up her time.”
“We’re in there a lot, and she and Hannah are friends. We don’t get the impression she minds.”
He minded, though. One, he didn’t want her to feel as if he was just using her for her story-fixing skills. And two, it was getting harder and harder to be around her without crossing any lines. They were friends, and if he overstepped, he might ruin that. Sometimes the way she looked at him made him feel like the desire was mutual, but he couldn’t be sure and he was afraid to find out he was wrong.
“Maybe I will,” Danny said, just to pacify his brother. “I’ll probably do some work outside. That always helps kick my brain into gear. Between my book and your annoyance with some of our campers, we’re going to have that entire wood delivery split and bundled by the time Brian comes back.”
* * *
When Kenzie pulled into the Birch Brook Campground on Tuesday afternoon, nobody was around. She didn’t see Rob’s truck, which meant he and Hannah might be off doing errands or adventuring. Danny’s truck was there, though, so she parked her car behind the store next to it and got out.
When Hannah had stopped in at the restaurant that morning just to grab a coffee and chat for a few minutes, she’d mentioned that Danny had been particularly grumpy since receiving feedback from his editor. The good news was, he was really putting a dent in the mountain of logs waiting to be split. But the bad news was Hannah’s concern that he was splitting all of that wood to avoid opening his laptop.
After she’d left, Kenzie hadn’t been able to put Danny out of her mind. The idea he might be struggling with his edits was concerning, and the fact he hadn’t reached out to her made her a little sad. Despite the fact it was hard to be his friend with no possibility of more, shewashis friend. And a friend who, according to him, was really good at helping him unstick his stories.
So there she was, uninvited, in an empty campground. But after a moment, she could hear the echo of an axe thumping from the rear of the property. She walked toward the sound, following the dirt road through the front of the campground and into the tree line, then up a pretty steep hill past more wooded campsites and a couple of cabins.
At the top of the hill was a large clearing she assumed was an overflow lot, where they had campers park their ATV trailers and extra vehicles. At the back of the clearing was a massive mound of cut logs.
And Danny Kowalski. Even though there was a chilly breeze, he’d tossed his sweatshirt on the woodpile. Kenzie arrived just in time to admire his T-shirt-clad muscles flexing as he brought the splitting maul down with a solid thump. The halves of the log flew apart. The man might spend a lot of his time sitting at a desk, but he was clearly no stranger to physical labor.
She waited until he’d set the maul against the splitting block to gather the pieces before making her presence known.
“Hey, Danny.”
He spun to face her, and she savored that split second of unguarded delight that lit up his face whenever he saw her. It was only a glimpse before his expression settled into the familiar warm smile, but it was enough.
“Kenzie!” He pulled off his work gloves and picked up the bottle of water set off to the side. “What brings you up here?”
She was pretty sure she had a reason, but she couldn’t remember what it was as he put the bottle to his lips and tipped his head back. His throat worked as he swallowed the water, and it was utterly mesmerizing.
It wasn’t until he screwed the lid back on and gave her a questioning look that she found her voice. “Hannah stopped by the restaurant this morning. During the course of the conversation, she happened to mention you got that feedback from your editor you were waiting for, and that you’re splitting wood instead of working.”
