But already, Krista was different. She didn’t need anyone to steady her; she was rooted and wild all at once, and entirelysure of who she was. And maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
He’d been in a lot of places, met a lot of people, but this—Krista in the morning light, framed by honeysuckle—was the kind of sight that could make a man forget where he was headed.
Joe cleared his throat and knocked on the bar top. “Morning.”
Krista looked up, meeting his gaze with that easy, knowing smile. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, teacher,” he said, grinning. “I was helping your grandfather split some wood.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Well, now I feel bad. I was going to give you detention.”
“Oh, you can still give me detention,” he said, voice low, teasing. “As long as I don’t have to serve it alone.”
Krista rolled her eyes, though the edge of her smile gave her away. “Let’s see how you do on your first lesson before I start handing out punishments.” She grabbed a paddle from the rack. “Ever been paddleboarding before?”
“No. Kayaked plenty. Surfed once,” he said. “Terrible at it.”
“Then you’re in luck,” Krista said, stepping past him toward the dock, voice lilting with mischief. “Because I’m an excellent teacher and you, sir, might have to teach some of our customers the basics.”
Joe told himself to focus. Not on how incredible she looked in her black bikini, not on the sunlight tracing every curve of her skin. Definitely not on imagining that same suit peeled off, her body damp from the lake. No, he needed to focus on the board and her instructions.
Krista led him to the small alcove beside the Hideaway, a boathouse tucked under a canopy of trees. Paddleboards were stacked neatly, paddles and ankle leashes resting beside them. The public beach was further down the lake, but here, thewater felt private. Meant only for Hideaway guests and now, just for them.
“Okay,” Krista said, kneeling to unstack a board. “These aren’t surfboards—they’re wider, more stable. If you fall, it’s completely your fault.”
“Good to know,” he said, grinning.
She pushed the board into the water, demonstrating how to kneel in the center and find the balance point. Joe followed her lead, setting the paddle across the board, stepping carefully into the cool lake. The water lapped against his calves, sunlight sparkling.
“Now kneel,” she said over her shoulder. “Once you’re steady, you can think about standing.”
“Thinkbeing the operative word,” he muttered, lowering himself onto the board.
Krista laughed, light and teasing. “Eyes up, not down. Knees soft. Core tight. You’ve got this.”
He tried. Every time she glanced back at him, sunlight catching her hair just so, he lost track of the instructions. His board wobbled dangerously.
“Whoa—”
“Joe!” Her laugh rang out as he plunged sideways into the water.
He surfaced, sputtering, pushing his wet hair back. “I swear it moved on its own.”
“Sure it did.” She bent forward, offering him a hand. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s try that again.”
Her fingers brushed his, warm, steady. He let himself be pulled upright. Their hands lingered; then she cleared her throat.
This time, he balanced—barely. They paddled side by side, boards drifting in quiet rhythm, lake smooth around them, birds wheeling overhead.
“See?” Krista smiled. “You’re a natural.”
“Only because I have a good teacher,” he said.
She dipped her paddle, lazy ripples spreading. “You say that now, but wait until we turn around.”
He glanced over his shoulder—and lost his balance. Boards shot out from under them; they fell together into the cool water, laughing, sputtering, arms wrapping around each other instinctively.
They surfaced together, her hand clutching his arm. Sunlight flashed off ripples, droplets clinging to her cheeks and shoulders.
