I tighten the hinge more than I need to. “And when the summer ends?”
“I don’t know.” She looks toward the lake. “Somewhere else, probably. I’m not really a roots person.”
I know better than to argue with a woman I met three hours ago.
So, I don’t.
But I don’t like it.
Mercury Ridge is all roots. It’s roads that curve the way your memory expects them to. It’s people who know your truck, your pizza order, your birthday, and your bad habits. It can be a lot sometimes, but there’s comfort in that, too. In Mercury Ridge, everyonematters.
I want Rayna to experience that. If she did, I think she’d change her mind about thisjust for the summerthing.
I test the freezer door. It opens smoothly.
“There,” I say.
She steps closer. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That was fast.”
“Actually, I dragged it out.”
Her eyes flick to mine.
I probably shouldn’t have admitted that.
Then she smiles. “You did?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
I close the toolbox. “So I could talk to you.”
Her mouth falls into a tiny O, and I desperately want to kiss her.
She’s close enough that I can see the pulse fluttering at the side of her neck. Close enough that if I lifted my hand, I could brush that loose strand of hair away from her cheek.
But she’s at work. And if I ever do kiss her, I’ll never want to stop.
And she’s only here for the summer.
“I should get back to that pontoon job,” I say.
“Right.” She nods, but she looks a little disappointed.
That almost does me in.
At the edge of the dock, she pauses. “Joel?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For the freezer. And earlier.”
“Anytime.”
