Blake follows her in. “Nice job,” he tells me with a wide grin. Something’s different about him – it seems like the stick up his butt has been removed. “I’m all done outside. I even got the hammock up.”
I take a seat at the edge of the bed, and he sits right next to me. “Sorry, I’ve been a big grouch,” he says. “Setting up stresses me out. It’s the only part of camping I hate.”
I smile. “It’s okay.”
A playful grin curves his mouth. “Buttons is still around, I see. He’s looking good.”
I laugh. “He’s had better days. He’s pretty old.”
“I know,” he says softly, and his gaze catches mine. For a long beat, our eyes cling to each other’s. Unspoken words are shared – my father’s story. It’s his story too, but it’s something we never talk about, something we like to pretend never happened.
His intense dark eyes haven’t changed – I could easily get lost in them. I shake my head and jerk my gaze away.
“Well, you’re ready for lunch?” he asks.
“Already?”
He smiles. “It’s past noon,” he tells me. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
“Sure,” I tell him. “Just want to check my phone first, and then I’ll make some sandwiches.”
I tap away on my phone – no messages. I’m worried, but I’m sure that Corrie will get back to me as soon as she can.
We have turkey sandwiches and potato salad for lunch, and then we go for a walk on the rocky beach. The lake is beautiful and calm, and I can’t remember the last time I walked on a beach and took the time to just enjoy nature. I’ve even left my phone back at the camper, at Blake’s insistence. I don’t like being off the grid, but I felt like I had something to prove.
The kids are happy, skipping rocks across the surface of the water, and finding treasures hidden between the pebbles on the shore.
Blake and I are strolling side by side. We haven’t spoken a single word. I’m content to just take in my surroundings and revel in the beauty and sounds of the lake.
“So what’s the deal with Parker?” Blake asks.
“Parker?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, the guy who left you on your wedding day.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, you mean myfiancé, Peter.”
He cocks a brow. “He’s still your fiancé? You’d think you would have dumped the guy after he pulled that crap. He must really have you on a leash.”
Yep, I was waiting for it – the moment when I’d want to slap Blake Taylor. It always comes, sooner or later. “He doesn’t have me on a leash. I just love him. But you wouldn’t know anything about that… about love.”
Blake has never had a serious relationship as far as I know. I think he’s emotionally incapable of love. Lust, yes. Love, no.
He throws a rock at the lake – it skips four times. “True, I don’t know about that. All I know is that you didn’t deserve that. I don’t know the guy, never met him, but I can tell you that he’s an asshole. Anyone who’d do that to you is an asshole.”
I’m speechless. “Uh…”
Maddie skips over to us. “Look, uncle Blake. Check out this sea glass.”
Blake slides the smooth piece of glass between his long fingers – it’s beautiful, jade green. “Awesome,” he says. “If you find some more, you can fill up a glass mason jar, and make a pretty candle holder for your mom.”
I smile. “Well, look at you, Martha Stewart.”
He pulls a face, and with one big bound, he steps ahead of me – I’ve been dismissed.
I study the curve of his back and his strong legs – I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself. He’s wearing dark jeans and a slim fitting grey sweater. I hate to admit it, but he looks delicious – healwayslooks good, there lies my dilemma.
We’ve been walking for quite a while, and we’ve ventured into quieter territory – there’s no one here but us. The kids are squealing, and I hear Blake say, “No way. You kids are insane.”
