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“She could suit you, you know,” she said sagely. “Balance you out.”
“Take a hike.”
“That could induce labor.”
“So,don’t, then.”
“I just need you to come with me so you can carry my ass back down the trail if I get contractions.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Where’s your husband? Isn’t that what those are for?”
“Like Paul would let me hike in this condition.”
“Let you?” I scoffed.
“I know,” she said, shifting on her feet and slinking into the chair I shoved out with a boot, her shoulders relaxing as she settled. “Crazy man has this wild idea that he can force me to take care of myself and follow the doctor’s orders.”
“Blasphemous.”
She chuckled, shrugging. “Kinda sweet.”
“If you say so.”
“I do. Speaking of sweet, how’s Mistyvale’s most eligible bachelor?”
“Axel’s wrapping up the last of dry dock to-do’s.”
“Very funny.”
“Is that not who you were asking about?”
“So you are—at least occasionally—humble.”
“Don’t spread that around—you’ll ruin my reputation.”
Her rubber rain boot thunked into my shin and I fought back the wince. “I like her.”
“Who?” When Brin glared at me before jerking her head towards the door, I gave her my best mock-surprise. “Oh, Lizzy? Good. I’m glad she’s an asset. Rhyett will be happy to hear it.” Not about to let her insinuate anything more, I snatched the folder off the table, stuffing my papers inside and clipping it closed with my pen.
“Jesus, James,” she muttered with an eye roll. “You’re so stubborn you put mules to shame.”
I waggled my brows as I stood, making a beeline for the front door. “Gotta run, gonna be late.”
“Hey! We’re not done here,” Brin barked as I slipped out the propped open door and ventured out into the brisk spring air.
* * *
The incessant buzzof my cell on the bedside table replaced an alarm clock, and I groaned, palming my face. Fishing meant we only had a half dozen mornings to sleep in during the summer, and waking a man up just after dawn on one of those last days was punishable by banishment in my book. Sighing, I grabbed my phone.
Elora
Happy Salmon Festival guys!
Rhyett
Happy Salmon Festival! Are we trailer hopping?
Every year,part of the spring festival was the gathering of food trucks and trailers along with artists and vendors. We spent three whole days refusing to step foot in our own kitchen as we gorged on tacos and deep-fried bread dough, and whatever the hell else they thought to whip up, roll in sugar, and slap an Alaska-approved name on.Bread buoys. Bear claws. Crab pots. The creativity was at least in full force, if nothing else. None of us were much for heart attacks on a plate, but Salmon Fest was an annual exception, right up there with Christmas and Thanksgiving.
