“December can’t come soon enough.” Before the words were out, he flinched.
She would be leaving in December, and that must hurt him a great deal. She didn’t relish the thought of bringing him pain. He didn’t deserve it. But there was nothing she could do—except change the subject.
“So what’s up with the dinner napkins?”That’s the subject youchoose?
He glanced her way. “What?”
“I was looking through some things in my closet and came across a few dinner napkins.”
His jaw clenched as he stared at the waterway ahead. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. “They’re... souvenirs, I guess you’d say.”
“Okay...”
His shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “Our first real date was at Ollie’s. When we got in the truck afterward, you realized you’daccidently grabbed the napkin along with your sweater. You kept it as a memento. So the next time we went to a restaurant with cloth napkins, I swiped one of them as sort of a joke.”
“You stole a napkin,” she accused.
“I left a big tip.”
“And the napkin-swiping became a thing.”
He gave a wistful smile. “Right.”
A chill ran over her arms. But it wasn’t because of their conversation. A thick gray cloud had rolled over the sun and the temperature quickly dropped.
Jonah glanced up at the sky, frowning. “I forgot to check the weather before we left.”
“I checked earlier, but there was only a small chance of rain.” One thing she’d learned though—thunderstorms seemed to crop up quickly around here.
A few droplets splattered her arms. A little rain was nothing to worry about. But the sky was darkening and that cloud coming over the mountains appeared more threatening than she’d like. “I guess that’s why no one’s out here today.”
A low rumble sounded in the distance.
Jonah gave his head a shake, clearly berating himself. “We’d better head for shore.” He throttled up and the boat took off, veering off to the right toward the closest shoreline. It was an uninhabited stretch of land. Since there wasn’t a house for a good half mile in either direction, perhaps the property wasn’t suitable for building.
The rain picked up and she watched the sky warily. A bolt of lightning cut through the clouds to their west.
Hurry, hurry.
But they were already headed full throttle toward shore. There was nothing else he could do. The rain became a deluge, dripping down her face and arms.
A minute or so later they neared the shore. But rather than pull up through the lily pads, he entered the mouth of a tributary she hadn’t noticed at first as it was hidden by the draping foliage of a weeping willow. They ducked beneath it and the world dimmed and cooled in the shade of the forest. At least they were somewhat sheltered from the rain now.
He slowed the boat, following the stream into the woods. “There’s an old trapper’s cabin just up ahead—or at least there used to be. My dad and I came across it years ago when we were fishing.”
She tried to wipe the rain from her face, but her hands were soaked. Jonah had fared no better. His sweatshirt clung to him like a second skin, and rivulets of water ran down his neck and under his shirt.
He shifted into neutral and guided the boat to a tiny pier jutting out from the grassy bank. When they neared it Lauren grabbed the line and jumped onto the rickety dock. She secured the boat.
They left their vests and dashed through the clearing to the trapper’s cabin. The building was more of a shack, maybe ten by twelve, made of rough-hewn logs and covered with a tin roof. One small window was visible from the front. When they jumped up on the stoop, Lauren was glad for the shelter of a roof.
A crack of thunder reverberated through the valley. She wiped the water from her face and watched Jonah do the same. His hair was plastered to his head, his wet lashes clumped together. She surely looked just as ridiculous. But she was so relieved to be out of danger, she couldn’t care less.
Their gazes connected and they burst out laughing.
“You look like a drowned rat,” she said.
“I feel like one.”
