The snake suddenly broke through a clog with a wet gurgle. A rush of water surged, then settled.
“Ah,” Walt said, satisfied. “There it is. The sound of victory.”
Krista wrinkled her nose. “The sound of something. I’m not sure ‘victory’ is the word I’d use.”
A small cheer went up from the waiting campers like they’d just been rescued from the wilderness. One woman called, “Thank you, Krista!” Another man gave Walt a thumbs-up.
Someone farther back added, “You’re doing the Lord’s work!”
Walt clapped. “Alright. I’ll walk down and tell your grandma we’re good. Maybe stall her away from that inventory list for a bit.”
“Are you sure?” Krista looked skeptical.
“I’ll keep her busy,” Walt said. “You two go take your pictures. Make us famous.”
He tipped his cap to Joe. “Thanks for the help, son.”
“Anytime,” Joe said.
As Walt headed toward the camp store, Krista’s phone buzzed again.
It was an email. The subject line:Offer on the Hideaway.
Krista’s stomach dipped.
For a second, the world narrowed to the phone in her hand. The word “offer.” The promise of relief, of money. Of finally being able to say yes to more help for her grandparents instead of just patching holes everywhere she turned.
She should’ve felt nothing but grateful. Selling made sense.It was the responsible choice. The adult one. But the thought of the Hideaway belonging to someone else…of another person standing behind that counter, making her drinks, rearranging her shelves, changing things without knowing why she’d chosen them—it made her stomach turn.
She locked the screen without reading the offer and slid the phone back into her pocket.
She’d deal with it later. For once, she wanted a morning that wasn’t all decisions and numbers and stress.
She looked over at Joe, who was silently watching her. His gaze flicked from her pocket back to her face, steady and patient, like he was waiting to see if she’d tell him what was going on.
“You still up for town?” she asked, bypassing the look and forcing her voice light. “Photography lesson, iced drinks?”
His smile was easy, warm. “Lead the way, boss.”
And just like that, she decided that for the next couple of hours, the potential buyer, the proposal, and the future of the Hideaway could sit on read.
Maybe—if they played it right—she and the sexiest man she’d ever met could sneak off for more than just a photography lesson.
TWENTY-FOUR
JOE
Saturday, Day Two of the Summer Swap
Downtown Maple Falls held in all that simmering summer heat. Two-story buildings lined the street, blocking the lake breeze, and the air hung thick with midwestern humidity. The scent of sunscreen and fresh-cut grass mixed with sugar and coffee from the Maple Leaf Café. A rare breeze tinkled wind chimes, but everyone around was already in short sleeves and sundresses.
“When you’re shooting for marketing, you have to think a little differently,” Joe said, lifting his camera and looking down Oak Way. “You need to sell the town. It’s not just a pretty picture.”
Krista shaded her eyes with her hand. “Sell it how?” The bell over an ice cream shop jingled, a kid squealed, and the scent of vanilla and waffle cones made her think of her grandma’s ice cream at the Hideaway and how fast summer could slip through your fingers if you didn’t taste it.
“Format first,” he said. “Elsie’s going to wanta banner for the website, so we need some strong horizontal shots. Big, wide scenes that say ‘This is Maple Falls’ in one glance.”
“Like…a skyline,” she said. “But with fewer skyscrapers and more lemon bars.”
