Travel-worn and sun-browned, hair a little longer, stubble darkening his jaw. Camera strap slung across his chest out of habit. Plain T-shirt, worn jeans, boots dusty like he’d been walking instead of driving.
And he was smiling at her like the sight of her had just knocked the breath right out of his lungs.
The shaker slid from her fingers into the sink with a thunk.
The whole patio seemed to inhale at once.
“Hi,” he said, voice rough around the edges.
Krista’s heart slammed against her ribs.
For one suspended heartbeat, with soft light glowing and Bear Lake catching every bit of their reflection, it felt like the summer was starting all over again.
“You came back,” Krista said when she finally found her voice.
“Course I did.” His voice hitched, a little shaky. “Couldn’t stay away.”
Krista cocked her head, trying and failing to come up with anything clever. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes instead.
Joe took another step forward, close enough now that the fairy lights caught the warm brown of his eyes. “You see, there’s this place,” he said, voice carrying just enough that the nearby tables could hear. “A little lake in the Midwest. Surrounded by trees, sunsets that ruin you for anywhere else. And the town? You won’t find a more welcoming place.”
A few people in the crowd whooped. Someone clinked a glass.
“But what really got me,” he went on, eyes never leaving hers, “was this girl…”
“A girl?” Krista lifted her chin, trying for teasing and landing somewhere near breathless.
“A woman,” Joe amended. “She butchered cowboy coffee and nearly killed me with paddleboards. She stays up too late, works too hard, and tries to save everybody before noon.”
At the nearby tables, their friends suddenly became very busy staring at the lake, rearranging napkins, taking long drinks, anything but looking directly at them.
“She runs this little place on the lake,” he said. “Bestcocktail you’ll ever have. And somewhere between photographing her town and falling into her life, I realized…” He drew in a breath. “I am more in love with her than with any job I’ve ever had.”
The patio went very still.
Krista’s heart thudded hard enough that she was sure the entire town could hear it.
“Joe,” she whispered.
“When I got that offer,” he said, speaking to her now, not the crowd, “it was the big one. Europe. Months of trains and planes and little cafés that were supposed to be everything I ever wanted.” He swallowed. “And I went. I tried. But every market, every fountain, every cobblestone street just made me think of here. Of you.”
Her fingers curled tight around the bar towel.
“So I called my editor,” he said, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at his mouth. “Told them if they wanted me, they had to want all of me. Maple Falls included. We reworked the contract. Shorter stints abroad. A home base here.”
Joe took the last step that brought him flush with the other side of the bar. Close enough that she could see the nervous flex of his jaw, the way his hand tightened once on the camera strap before letting it go.
“I want this to be my home,” he said simply. “I want mornings at the campground and nights here at the Hideaway. I want sand deliveries and storm drains and bees that apparently need to be briefed on all major life events.”
Kit said something, but Krista couldn’t make it out. Her focus was only on him.
“I want you,” he finished, voice low and steady. “Not for a week or a summer or a story. For real. If you’ll have me.”
The air felt thick with emotion. It was a warm, heady sensation.
Krista’s eyes stung, but for once she didn’t try to blink itaway. “You’re really here,” she said again, because it felt like the only thing she could manage.
“I am,” he replied. “And this time, I’m not asking you to run away with me.”
