Martin? Wasn’t he Mr. Konewko’s real estate agent?
That wasn’t too weird, Brynn supposed. Friends’ recommendations were pretty important in real estate.
The thought that Gage was considering staying pleased Brynn, though. A hint of promise if something progressed between them. She was drawn to the fireplace hearth, where she sat down in front of a crackling fire, gaining the best vantage point of the room. It was a nice place.
“If you don’t keep it, maybe I’ll take it.” This cabin was exactly what she loved about Ruidoso—stone fireplace, heavy wood ceiling beams, open stairs that probably led to the master bedroom in the loft. Rustic cabin decor completed the look with dark green and burgundy plaids, grizzly bear prints, and pine trees. “Every Thanksgiving since I can remember, my family’s come to Ruidoso and rented a cabin—a different one every year. It was my father’s excuse to skip cooking a turkey because, he said, you never knew what kind of cookware you’d find or how well the oven would work in a rental. Honestly, though, it was because he hates turkey.” Brynn smiled at the memory and was pleased that Gage seemed interested in what she was saying.
“So that’s how you got to know Ruidoso? I assumed it was the skiing.” Gage joined her at the fireplace, sitting next to her on the stone hearth. The heat she felt on her back then spread to her thigh where his lightly brushed hers.
Did he know she was a skier, or had he just assumed since that was why most people came to Ruidoso? She couldn’t remember having talked about it in their conversation before. She didn’t mind talking about it now, though. “As I became more adept at skiing, my father wanted to expose me to as many different slopes as he could. We skied in Canada, Colorado, and Utah, but sometimes we’d make our way back here in January or February as well, when the skiing is at its best.”
“Hey, are you guys ready for the hot tub?” Avery grabbed Keenan’s hand and pulled him away from the food.
“Sure.” Gage jumped up to act the host, opening the French door onto the balcony. Fiddling first with the stereo until he found some upbeat music, Gage then set to work unlatching the hot tub cover. “Keenan, grab the other side, will you?”
Once they had the cover situated, the girls stepped in first, followed by the guys, each of them claiming one of the four bench seats of the square tub.
With the remoteness of Gage’s cabin, the usual sprinkling of stars was joined by a swath of subtle colors and additional celestial bodies of the Milky Way. The mixture of the hot water and rising steam kept the harsh contrast of the cold at bay, and Brynn sank in, allowing her tensions to ease away into peacefulness, and she started to feel drowsy.
“Ah, this is the life.” Gage leaned back, tipping his head so it rested against the back of the hot tub, and closed his eyes.
“No falling asleep,” Brynn said, more as a warning to herself than to him. She lifted a foot and teasingly nudged him from her seat perpendicular to his. Without looking up, he caught her foot, his touch gentle but firm, and started massaging the bottom of her foot as if it were simply a reaction. She knew she should pull away, but after spending so much time on a ladder today, the rub felt heavenly, especially coming from him.
“Corpus Christi has some beautiful scenery of its own, but I’m going to miss the mountains. It’s so quiet here.” Avery sighed from Brynn’s other side. “I’m not ever going to want to leave, especially not in just a few days.”
“A few days?” Gage jumped up straighter, which startled Brynn to her senses.
She shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be risking her heart over a man who, most likely, was leaving when his friends were. Brynn started to pull her foot away. With the motion, he looked startled, as if he’d gotten caught doing something he shouldn’t have been, and let go of her foot.
“What about the grout?” Gage asked, acting as if nothing had happened between him and Brynn under the surface. “The checkout counter?”
“Seriously, man,” Keenan said, incredulous, “grout is one of the easiest parts. But we’ll get it done before we go. Don’t stress.” He slipped to the other side of the hot tub to sit by Avery and pulled her toward him. “Changing subjects, we have the day off tomorrow. What should we do?”
“I’ve always wanted to go to White Sands,” Avery said at the same time Gage said, “Mountain biking.”
“You should definitely go to White Sands, Avery,” Brynn said. “It’s absolutely breathtaking. Just like it sounds—mountains of white sand to sled down. It’s so much fun! Hardly a stalk of a plant and completely opposite of here. You and Keenan should go if you’ve never been.”
“Does that mean you’d rather take your chances mountain biking with me?” Gage asked, wagging his eyebrows up and down.
“That depends,” Brynn countered with as much bravado as she could muster, “on if you can keep up with me.”
“Oh, really?” He seemed to look her over carefully. “Challenge accepted.”
Keenan laughed, hooking Avery around the shoulders and pulling her toward him. He smacked a noisy kiss on her cheek. “Sounds like it’s just you and me, kid.”
Chapter 12
Gage woke with a savage cold coming on, but he’d have to be dying to let that stop him. He’d fallen asleep working out the next day’s plans. He was looking forward to spending the day with Brynn, just the two of them, especially away from the store and manual labor. His knees could use the break from tiling for sure, not that mountain biking was going to give him much of a break. At least it would be a different kind of workout.
Not willing to submit to illness, Gage ripped off the top of a zinc cold remedy powder and dumped it into a glass of cold water. Orange juice it certainly was not, but he swore by this stuff.
Out on the road, the fuzziness caused by his cold, combined with the limited visibility of a stubborn early morning fog, had Gage wondering if a fishing trip was more appropriate for the day. There was nothing more beautiful than wisps of steam lifting ethereally off a lake as winter settled in. Well, except maybe Brynn. He shook his head and concentrated on the lake again, allowing himself to become nostalgic over dawn fishing trips with his dad or alone when he could kick back and be himself, quiet and contemplative.
But until he was ready for Brynn to know who he was, he needed to glide into things gently. Jumping right into taking her fishing would be the biggest red flag he could think of—other than actually coming out and telling her. And why hadn’t he done that yet? He cursed himself for being so stupid. Every day he didn’t tell her had to be making things worse, but he liked Brynn way too much. And the more time he spent with her, the more certain he was that he could fix this. He needed to fix this. And it would work.
But not yet.
While driving in Ruidoso was always hazardous with the numerous deer ready to bound into traffic at any moment, with the morning’s fog, the potential of hitting a deer felt as if it had been escalated to being inevitable. Gage allowed his pickup to crawl forward, and he was glad he’d provided a buffer of time. After pulling into the empty parking lot, Gage glared at the cracked plastic Owen’s Outfitters sign atop the rusty pole. He couldn’t wait to replace it with the new sign. He needed to find a logo and—oh yeah—get the name approved. As he guided his truck to stop, the only sounds he heard were bits of gravel popping out from under his tires and the bubbling stream that separated the businesses from Brynn’s neighborhood.
He’d told Brynn he would pick her up, but first he wanted to select a couple of bikes from the store’s stock of rentals. It would give him a good idea of the quality of the store’s inventory. It became obvious as he rummaged through the bikes that most were in need of maintenance. As soon as he got the chance, he would take care of that. Finally, Gage found a couple of duallys he thought were in decent shape. The mountain bikes with dual suspension would make for the smoothest ride over the roughest terrain, and just thinking about it got him in the mood to ride. He wrestled them into the back of his pickup, secured them with bunge
e cords, and slipped through the shop’s back door to grab a first aid kit and some energy bars that he’d set aside from their inventory.
Gage was about to lock the door when he heard a foot rotating on the gravel. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching, and he whirled around in surprise.
“Just me, Fred.” She laughed at her own joke with the mountain biking nickname. Basically, she was calling him a poser, but he couldn’t help but crack a smile in response. He’d show her.
Brynn had never looked more beautiful—this time wearing black yoga pants and a turquoise half-zip jacket that hugged all the right curves. “Looks like you’re all packed up.”
“I hope you don’t mind trying a couple of the rentals. It’ll help you know what you’re offering your customers.” He felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar; she just didn’t know the cookie jar was his too.
She nodded, agreeing. “Makes sense.” She still didn’t look like she approved of the hired help going through the inventory. Of course not. Dang it— he should have sent her an email with this suggestion so he wouldn’t have felt like he was sneaking around.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yep.”
Almost as soon as he turned the truck on, Brynn was fiddling with the radio, listening to a few bars of a song and then flipping to another station like she had music ADD. It made him smile. He turned onto Highway 48 toward Alto, where many of the fishing holes were located. He wasn’t telling her, but he was using this bike ride to check out which fishing spots he wanted to try later. He would filter through them as he got time, trying out each so he would know what to recommend as well as what to include on his guided tours.
“What’s with the fishing lures?” The sun visors glittered with them. Brynn gingerly touched a green feather, being overly careful to avoid the barb as if she would be the next Sleeping Beauty.
“It’s not going to hurt you.” Gage laughed. “And they were here the last time you rode in my truck.”
“The last time I rode in your truck, it was dark,” Brynn said defensively. “I didn’t realize you were transporting me in some kind of death chamber of torture devices.”
Gage laughed harder. He hoped she wasn’t serious. “These are ones I rarely use anymore because the color’s faded or the tail action isn’t as good. Though they do make for good backup in a pinch. And they look cool, don’t they?” He puffed out his chest and lifted his chin as if it were him she was evaluating.
Shaking her head, she acted as if she didn’t get it. “What is it with men and fishing?”
He looked at her with wide eyes. She was crazy. Fishing was the best. Fishing was life. He planned his words carefully. “You know how women talk about going on retreats to ‘find themselves’? Well, men go fishing to lose themselves. It’s the perfect way to forget about life for a while. No adulting required.” The sky was clearing up, and the more they talked about fishing, the more he wanted to go.
“Profound.” Brynn seemed impressed. “I didn’t realize fishing was such serious business.”
“Stress in life is caused by not fishing enough.” Gage downshifted so his truck wouldn’t have to work so hard. “You’ll be good to remember that when things get too stressful at the store.”
“I’ll try.” Brynn finally settled on a pop song about a bad breakup and leaned back in her seat. “Do you actually believe that stuff about fishing?”
“In a way. But don’t take me too seriously. I stole those sentiments from T-shirts and bumper stickers.” Gage laughed at himself.
“Stinker.” She folded her arms across her chest, pretending to pout for about two seconds, and then went back to normal. She looked around them. “Do you have an actual destination in mind?”
She’d bent her left leg up under herself, turned slightly toward him, and was staring at him openly. It almost made him nervous, or at the very least self-conscious. Did she notice where he’d nicked his ear shaving the other day? He lifted a hand to touch the scab without thinking, but then tried to cover the action by rubbing the back of his neck and then placing his hand back on the gearshift. Or should he place it on the steering wheel? He hadn’t put this much thought into driving since he was sixteen.
“I have a general idea, but I haven’t chosen one specifically,” he said. “They’re all new to me. Why? Is there one you’re dying to try?” He worked to keep his eyes on the road rather than on the beautiful girl next to him.
“Nope. I’m good. I’m just along for the ride.” She winked to make sure he knew she was making a pun.
“Ha, ha,” he said dryly.
It wasn’t long before they reached the first trail on Gage’s list—one that went around a lake. They started off at a leisurely pace, usually with him in the lead on paths that weren’t much wider than the space of one person. It was fairly flat, with nothing interesting riding-wise—no rocks, washboards, roots, anything. He did, however, find a potential fishing gold mine or two, and stopped at each turnout to mark the spot on his offline GPS app.
“What are you doing?”
“Besides taking a breather?” He didn’t need one any more than she did, but his cold was starting to wear him down. He tried to sniff quietly, wishing he had a tissue. “High altitude?”
“Where did you say you’re from?” She squinted at him, not believing his excuse. That was good—she shouldn’t.
“Grand Junction.”
“Colorado. Yeah, I don’t think you’re struggling with the higher altitude.” She smirked at him. “I meant on your phone. Do you even have service?”
Gage scrambled to think of what he should say to keep from blowing his cover, and found himself distracted. Wait—will she figure me out with Grand Junction? He hoped not. He decided to be honest about the phone too. At least partially. “I’m marking coordinates for fishing holes Mr. Konewko might want to check out.” It felt wrong to refer to himself in the third person, and he wished he’d found a way around it.
“Okay, but I get to choose the next trail. This is a nice warm-up, but way too easy.” She mounted and kicked off, leaving the trail to pedal through the tall grasses and around young trees near the lake’s shoreline.
Brynn was bored, and Gage had to do something about it. He shoved his phone into his pocket and raced her back to the truck. Before loading their bikes, they sat hip to hip on the tailgate of his pickup, eating ham sandwiches with pepper jack cheese and tomatoes. Despite the fact that it had too much Miracle Whip and no dill pickles, it was the best sandwich he’d eaten in a long time.
“Thanks for lunch,” he said after he’d swallowed his last bite. He turned to look at her, pleased to have her this close to him, and found her nervously swallowing her own final bite, putting a hand up in front of her mouth. Gently, he caught her hand, and then with his other, he dabbed at the extra bit of Miracle Whip that dotted her upper lip.
“You’re welcome,” she said, and colored slightly before completely recovering. “I’m totally serious about choosing the next trail. I’ve already got it picked out.” She tapped her pocket on the telltale rectangle of her phone.
“You won’t get service.” Gage thumbed his chest. “Voice of experience here.”
“No need.” She was proud of herself. “I looked it up last night and took screenshots. It’s pretty close, too.”
Brynn helped Gage load the bikes into his pickup, and he couldn’t help admiring the muscle definition in her upper arms. They weren’t huge in an Amazon bodybuilder way but toned in the athletic way he always admired.
He was even more impressed as she directed him to their next spot. Not just at her map-reading ability, which was infinitely better than Keenan’s—the last person he’d taken out in these unknown woods—but also in the course she chose for them to conquer. She’d directed him to take what appeared to be a maintenance access road, and he was skeptical until they reached a small gravel pullout and a wooden trail marker. This new trail boasted a wider path, which meant they could kick up th
e speed without fear of impaling themselves on pine branches. With the promise of rough riding and technical challenges, he was more than impressed. He was stoked. He hadn’t ridden a trail this wicked since his favorite slick rock trails at home in Colorado.
After a brief introduction of flat trail, they had to downshift practically to granny gear as the incline went straight up. Gage’s favorite part of the trail was where one bad judgment call on the slick rock would have them crashing down the steep hill at breakneck speed. It was amazing.
“How did you find this place?” It was easily the best mountain bike trail Gage had ever experienced, and he’d grown up in red-rock mountain bike country. He and Brynn had stopped for a drink in an aspen grove. A few yellow leaves shimmered in the breeze as they clutched tightly to the branches for one more day. The grove was blessedly silent except for the wind in the trees and their own labored breathing. “Was it on some kind of online list?”
“A lady never reveals her sources,” Brynn teased. He snatched her water bottle and held it from her—childish flirting, but it worked. “I heard about it from a friend,” she admitted, and he gave her back her water, which she tucked away. “I was itching to try it out, and you were my guinea pig.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She strapped the helmet on once again and cinched it down. “Ready?”
They still had plenty of mountain below them, and a crossroad of possibilities ahead. He eyed the trails, his mouth practically watering at the potential. Each promised a fun ride.
“Should we add it to the list of places on the website?” Realizing what he’d said, he hurried to amend his question so she wouldn’t suspect. “I mean, aren’t you making lists of great local places to fish, bike, boat, and sled? Giving people ideas of where they could use rented gear from your store?”
“I hadn’t thought of that, Gage. That’s not a bad idea.” Brynn seemed impressed, and his chest relaxed. She didn’t seem to have realized the import of his slip. “It makes sense, but the selfish part of me wants to keep it to myself. Do we really want to share this place with everyone else?”
Kayaks and Kisses: A Romance Renovation Novel (Vintage Romance) Page 10
