"I've been thinking about you," he said. "More than I probably should."
"How long?"
"Since the first time you came into the store." His mouth quirked. "You asked for a recommendation and I could tell you actually meant it. You weren't just making conversation. You wanted to find something real."
"That's what you noticed?"
"I remember everything about that conversation." He shook his head. "That's not—I don't usually—I'm not doing this well."
Lori laughed. The sound surprised her, easy and unguarded.
"You're doing fine," she said.
Behind them, back toward the barn, someone called John's name. Distant, probably one of the staff wondering where he'd gone.
Neither made any move to go.
"They're going to come looking for you," Lori said.
"Let them."
The frog by the pond went quiet. The fireflies kept blinking.
She looked at him, and then she leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft at first, tentative—a question more than a statement. His hand came up to cup her face, gentle, like she might pull away. She didn't.
When they pulled apart, they were both breathing differently. Even the highway seemed farther away.
"Well," John said.
"Well," Lori agreed. She was smiling and couldn't seem to stop.
Someone called his name again, closer this time.
"I should go deal with that," he said, but he didn't move.
"You should."
He reached for her hand, squeezed it once. Then Lori laughed again—that same easy sound—and rose from the bench. "Go. I'll find my way back."
"I'll see you soon," he said.
"I'm not hard to find."
He smiled. The full version this time, not held back. Then he headed toward the voice, glancing over his shoulder once before disappearing between the vines.
Lori sat back down on the bench. The pond held the sky's reflection, patient and still. She wasn't ready to leave. Not yet.
Brittany had never been kayaking before. Not really, not the kind where you actually paddled somewhere instead of just drifting around a calm lake. But Ryan had suggested it after their shift, said he knew a spot, and she'd said yes before she could overthink it.
Now they were here, sliding through the back bay in rented kayaks, the sun dropping toward the mainland and turning everything gold. The beach club felt like it belonged to a different world. Out here, there was just the water and the marsh grass and the sound of their paddles dipping in and out.
"You're doing good," Ryan said from his kayak, a few feet ahead of hers. "Most first-timers tip over by now."
"Is that supposed to be encouraging?"
"Take the win."
