“Good.” Elsie grinned, waving them toward the water. “Now, back on the boards. Stand there. Closer. Like you don’t secretly want to push him in, Krista.”
“I don’t secretly want to push him in,” Krista said.
Joe snorted. “She wants to do it openly.”
They waded into the shallows, boards bobbing gently. Krista tried to shake off the tight feeling in her chest.
“Okay, for this one,” Elsie said, lifting her phone, “I want you both on one board. Cute, chaotic, a wee bit dangerous. The internet will love it.”
Krista shot Joe a look. “Absolutely not.” She wasn’t letting him baptize her again.
“Oh, come on,” he said, nudging her board closer with his foot. “I’ve got it down now. Promise.”
“Sure you do,” she muttered, stepping on anyway. The board wobbled immediately.
Krista mentally blamed Joe because she was a master at this. But something about his presence tripped her up.
She windmilled one arm. “Nope. Bad idea. Terrible?—”
Joe stepped up behind her, board dipping under their combined weight. His hands, warm and firm, came to rest on her waist.
“I’ve got you,” he said quietly, breath brushing her damp hair.
Her body went still.
The board rocked again, but his grip tightened, guiding her feet a little wider, thumbs brushing just above her bikini bottoms. Heat shot through her in a way that had nothing to do with the sun.
“Bend your knees,” he murmured. “Trust it.”
Trust you, her brain supplied unhelpfully.
She inhaled slowly, lake air cool in her lungs, and obeyed. The board steadied beneath them.
“That’s it,” he said. “See? Not so bad.”
“So, you’re the teacher now, huh?” Krista said, trying to keep her voice light.
“Oh my God, this is perfect,” Elsie crowed from the shore. “Stay just like that—Krista, maybe don’t look like you’re contemplating your life choices.”
Krista forced her shoulders to relax, pasted on a smile, and tried not to think about Joe’s fingers still on her hips. The anxiety in her chest softened, replaced by something steadier.
Elsie snapped a few pictures—Joe, steady and tall behind her; Krista, paddle in hand, trying to look casual while her entire nervous system hummed.
“That’s it,” Elsie said at last. “Back on land. Boards behind you, shoulder to shoulder, big Maple Falls smiles. Pretend you’re having the time of your lives.”
Joe and Krista hopped off the board together in the waist-deep water. The loss of his touch felt like stepping out of sunlight into shade. They moved up onto the sand, boards propped behind them, standing side by side, smiling into the morning.
Ten minutes later, Krista sat at a patio table, hair still damp, wrapped in a towel, scrolling through Elsie’s mock-up for the Hideaway’s online listing. The bright, cheery photos looked fine. Great, even. But she didn’t want to think about the place selling, even though she knew she should. And truthfully, her mind was only half on the screen.
Mostly because Joe was behind the counter, towel knotted low around his hips, apparently determined to make her coffee. Sunlight traced the lines of his chest and shoulders, droplets sliding down his neck to the hard planes of his stomach. He moved with easy confidence, all broad shoulders and lean muscle, a faint V-shape vanishing beneath the towel.
Krista tried to look away, but her eyes refused to comply. Every flex, every subtle movement drew her in.
She took a sip of her water to cool off, watching him over the rim of her glass as he squared up to the espresso machine. He pressed a button. Nothing. Pressed another. The machine beeped at him in a way that felt vaguely judgmental. Joe frowned, studying the display.
He knocked the portafilter against the counter—once, twice—tapped it, checked it, tapped it again. Then he leaned in, close enough that his shoulders bunched and flexed, and muttered something under his breath that made Krista’s mouth twitch.
Finally, after he had the espresso mastered, he poured in one shot. And then another. And another. Enough that Krista was pretty sure she’d get a caffeine high after one sip.
