Kayaks and Kisses: A Romance Renovation Novel (Vintage Romance)

by Maria Hoagland

  Gage still couldn’t relax into the meeting, but he would try. He opened the folder to the business plan they’d created together and been working from—the same one he’d found this morning on his downstairs desk. He knew as soon as he saw it that this was last night’s game changer. He looked up and caught a look of recognition and revulsion in her eye. Should he say something?

  After a heavy pause, he decided they had to talk about it. “Can I ask you something?” he asked with more trepidation and sincerity than he’d ever felt. The stakes were so high. Her head moved up and down a fraction of an inch. “How could you forgive Gage for his deception—” He tapped his pen on the paper. “—and not forgive me for that little thing of trying to buy your store?” He felt a softening in the way she looked at him.

  “What makes you think I forgave him?” Her words were barely audible.

  “I guess I figured since you texted this morning and came over …” No need to fill in the blanks; they both would be thinking about their embrace.

  “Hmm. You might have a point, but don’t push it. I’m still deciding.” Brynn’s teasing tone soothed the surface of his worries. She placed a palm on her own copy of the business plan. “What do we have left to figure out?”

  He was relieved to move on. “Well, we’ve taken care of so many of the items already—except for the shop name.”

  “And the product list you sent over after the expo.” She clicked her pen, ready to work. Gage couldn’t help but appreciate her attitude.

  “And the budget.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned good-naturedly. “This is where you’re going to complain that girls spend too much money.”

  “Ha ha, no way. I’m afraid it’ll be the other way around. I figure I’ll take care of fishing, biking, and camping, and you’ll take over tourist goods, skiing, snowboarding, and sledding?” He posed it more as a question and waited for her reaction.

  “Sounds fair.” She made notes in the margin of her list. “Store name?” She looked up, and he started to get nervous. It was the one thing he wanted most. Aside from dating her. “I think we’re in agreement that although Owen’s Outfitters has become a name in the community, it won’t hurt to switch that up a little. Make it more us.”

  Us. He liked the sound of that. “I’m glad you want it to be more us.” He was still nervous to bring it up. What if she shot it down? You don’t know unless you try, he decided. “I was thinking Konewko’s Canoe Co.”

  Brynn didn’t immediately dismiss it. “Konewko’s Canoe Co.,” she repeated slowly. “I admit it has a fun ring to it, but that would be like me naming it Caley’s K2 Ski Shop—it’s limiting. People won’t know the scope of what we do if they think it’s just one of the sports. Not to mention that it leaves the other of us out.”

  She had a point. “So that’s a no?” His heart sank as he thought of Tasha again, how she’d shot down his dream. But Gage shouldn’t care about Tasha. Brynn’s feelings mattered so much more. “You’re right. How about we both go back to the drawing board on that one—think about it a little and decide later?”

  “Not too much later,” Brynn said. “I want to get a logo drawn, T-shirts ordered, and the website ready.”

  “We’ll also need to use the logo on a new sign for the parking lot and vinyl for the door.”

  “True, true.” At least Brynn was still on board with things and didn’t seem to be too upset at their rocky start. She stopped looking over her papers and dropped her pen next to the portfolio. “Have you eaten yet? I went to see a close friend this morning and didn’t get a chance to catch lunch.”

  Gage looked at his watch. It was already getting late, and his head was spinning—probably from the cold medicine. He desperately needed a nap. “I wish I could.” He almost kicked himself for saying no, but if he fell asleep at this table in front of everyone, he’d feel even worse. “I think I need to get home and lie down.”

  She looked at him compassionately. “I totally understand. Will you be okay to drive home?”

  He smiled and nodded slightly. He’d counted it a small victory when she didn’t walk away once she saw that it was him. He’d pictured several scenarios of this meeting, and almost every one of them had ended badly. What he hadn’t imagined was this—the possibility that she might forgive him so readily.

  “Are we good, then, you and me?” Gage thought back to the way she’d cuddled up with him that morning. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t feel her leaning against his chest again.

  She gathered her papers and stowed everything in her case but didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. “We’re good.” The words hadn’t come out as warmly as he’d hoped. She was still holding something back.

  He wasn’t sure if she meant just as partners, or if things were truly as they’d been a couple of hours before. Maybe he needed to give her time to adjust.

  “I’m going to let you off the hook for dinner tonight.” Gage returned his folder to his case. “I saw that Espe has homemade chicken noodle today, and I thought I’d take some with me. Is that okay?” He finished the last swallow of his now-cooled hot chocolate. “You’ve created a monster with this, you know.” He shook the mug at her.

  “I know. It’s good, right?”

  He smiled his agreement. “Rain check on dinner?”

  “Of course.” Her voice was falsely cheery.

  “One more thing, now that you know it’s me. How about a camping trip this weekend? I’d like to try out some of the equipment and one particular campsite. Separate tents, of course …” If she was sad he’d turned her down for dinner, perhaps this would make up for it. And everything else he’d done to her in the past two weeks.

  “Because that way we can try out twice as many tents.” There was the sassy girl he was falling in love with.

  “Exactly.” Gage pulled out a credit card. “I’ve got the tab. But it’s a business expense, not a date, or I would have made this a lot more fun.”

  When Gage mentioned a camping trip in the throes of being sick, he decided he must have been crazy. Crazy about Brynn, that was. But the day of their lunch meeting had been the worst as far as the cold went, and a couple days of rest had made a world of difference. And now that he was up here, sitting beside a beautiful woman on a mountain summit watching the sunset, he couldn’t have felt better.

  “Which was your favorite?” Gage asked, lifting his plate to indicate the three flavors of MREs they’d heated as samples for their dinner. He personally didn’t care. They were all palatable. He just liked hearing Brynn talk, express her opinions, even if it was on food they’d likely never eat again.

  “Hmm.” Brynn pretended to think hard, as if trying to make a difficult and all-important decision. “Certainly not the chicken with wild rice, but the chicken enchiladas and the lasagna were decent. Just maybe not together.”

  Gage had to laugh at that one. “Agreed. I don’t know what I was thinking when I paired them.”

  “It’s all good. At least I didn’t have to cook.” Another thing he liked about her—her optimism and ability to see the best in every situation, and everyone … even him. The fact that she’d forgiven him for his betrayal had been even more healing than Espe’s chicken noodle soup.

  A small campfire crackled at their feet, the smoke lifting easily in the breeze, but in the haze, it was difficult to make out her features. He squinted to see her better. “Should we continue to stock all three?”

  “Sure, why not? Unless you found something better at the expo.”

  He put his elbows on his knees, leaning toward the heat. He felt better than he had in a week. It was as if looking forward to this had sped up the healing process, and for that, he was grateful. After their meeting a couple of days before, Gage had gone home from the café and rested through the next day. By the following day, he’d regained most of his energy. Today, he’d spent the first few hours after breakfast preparing for this little trip.

  Knowing they wouldn’t set up camp next to hi
s truck, Gage had sifted through the inventory for a couple of the lighter tents and two of the sleeping bags fit for the lowest temperature rating yet thin enough for backpacking. The bit of a hike they’d had carrying all their gear from below the timberline to the apex of the mountain had been worth it. The view was beyond amazing. Smooth hills dropped below them, like short bald men with scruffy pine beards.

  “Those sleeping bags we schlepped up here—are they going to be warm enough?” Brynn shivered in her jacket and wrapped her arms around her middle. She leaned closer to the fire.

  “I sure hope so.” He cringed. Gage would never forgive himself if she suffered through a miserable night trying to stay warm. He’d had a few of those himself. “And if not, we’ll know what not to stock anymore.”

  Brynn didn’t look up at him, apparently mesmerized by the flames that licked around the wood and ash in the middle of the ring. Gage reached into his jacket pocket as slowly as possible, removing a small packet he’d been saving for an opportunity just like this. She didn’t seem to notice the movement, and he tossed the square into the fire. After a few seconds, flames of greens and blues joined the yellows and oranges.

  Brynn’s eyes grew wide. “Did you do that?” She looked at him briefly, but quickly turned back to the fire, unable to keep from watching, mesmerized.

  He thought about denying it but decided today wasn’t a day for fish stories of any kind. Straight-up honesty might be good for the near future. “You asked about the expo. This was one of the samples I brought home.” He held another packet out for her to examine. He felt himself grinning like a schoolboy. She was so fun to surprise. They watched the colored flames die down, returning to the campfire’s normal shades. “Your turn.”

  She turned the packet over in her fingers, reading the label, and then tossed it in, leaning forward with anticipation. “That is so cool!”

  She might have been absorbed by the colorful flames, but his eyes were drawn to Brynn like a compass points to north. Nothing else was nearly as attractive. “When are you going fishing with me?” he asked, picturing how much fun he would have doing his favorite thing with her by his side. She wrinkled her nose for a split second, probably not realizing she’d done so. “You know you need to be able to answer customers’ questions if I’m not available—especially during fishing season when I’m out with a tour.”

  Brynn nodded, a half smile pushing in her adorable dimple. “I know you’re right, but winter’s coming up first—which means we’ll need to undertake your snow-fun education first.”

  “Oh, you mean ice fishing?” Gage played dumb. “I love ice fishing. I’ll take you any time.”

  “I was thinking more snowboarding, cross-country skiing, downhill skiing.” She listed each with reverence, her excitement apparent with each possibility. It was easy to tell that downhill was her passion. “You’ll need to try all three, but I’ll let you choose the order.”

  Small consolation if he ended up maimed. Or dead. The thought of downhill terrified him, but not as much as snowboarding. He couldn’t see himself wanting to move past the bunny slopes, but his pride would intervene. “Come on, ripper, are you sure I couldn’t just watch you? You could tell me about everything, write me up a nice little cheat sheet I’ll study behind the register, and call it good?”

  “You big chicken!” Brynn reached out and slapped him on the thigh, and he caught her hand.

  How he liked this girl. When he’d made an offer on Owen’s Outfitters, he’d been looking for a business, perhaps a career. Now, it seemed, he’d found much more than that. Life would not just be livable; it would be enjoyable, especially if he had Brynn alongside him on the journey. When he’d struggled through his years with Tasha, Gage hadn’t realized there might be someone out there who was as perfect for him as Brynn was. He couldn’t have planned a better course for himself if he had used some kind of relationship GPS.

  “Yeah, I am a chicken. I’m man enough to admit that.” Gage beamed at her, concentrating on the touch they shared.

  “You’ll be fine.” She laced her fingers between his, her fingertips cold, but her palm warm. “You’ll even like it. I’ve seen you on a bike, and skiing isn’t any scarier than that.”

  “Says you.” Gage thought about it. He loved the adrenaline rush of mountain biking a technical trail, so maybe he could get into skiing. He pulled their clasped hands into his lap, where he cradled her cold fingertips in his other palm. “I’ll give it a shot. As long as you’re nice and don’t make fun of me when I end up in a big yard sale, my poles and skis strewn around me when I crash on the bottom of the bunny slopes with all the five-year-olds zipping past me.”

  “Give me a break!” She laughed long and hard. “You’ll be a natural, I can tell. Besides, it would be good practice for me to try teaching an adult.”

  “And then when you’re successful, I can tell everyone at the store what a great ski instructor you are, and I won’t even have to lie.” He leaned toward her, enjoying her smile.

  She squeezed his hand. “First snow.”

  He squeezed back. “Thanks for the warning.” Excitement started to build in him.

  They watched the flames, now back to their natural enchanting colors. “Since we tried the healthy food,” she said, “does that mean we can sample the unhealthy food now?”

  Gage reluctantly let go of Brynn’s hand and left his spot by the fire. Near his tent, he rummaged through his backpack until he found the package of graham crackers and a bag of marshmallows. Wanting to keep the candy secret from Brynn, he shoved the bar into his pocket. If he could slip it onto her s’more unnoticed, she’d be in for a delicious surprise—one he was sure she would love. “What would a campfire be without s’mores?”

  Instead of settling back onto the log they’d been sharing as a seat, he chose a large flat boulder near the fire and stowed the ingredients by his side but out of her line of sight.

  Brynn too left her seat. “You know what else I love? Roasted Starbursts.”

  “Starbursts?” Gage blinked at her. She had to be kidding.

  “Yeah, you heard me.” Brynn retrieved a small package from her pack and returned to perch next to him on the boulder, just close enough to send goose bumps up his arm. The scent of her shampoo teased his nostrils, a fresh scent he was learning to associate with her. “I do want a s’more,” she was saying, “but you have to promise to try this too. What’s your favorite Starburst flavor?” She handed him an empty roasting stick.

  “Orange.” He placed two marshmallows on his stick and started slowly roasting them, staying far enough away to get the inside nice and gooey before toasting the outside as a finishing touch.

  She speared an orange square and a pink one and did the same. They sat, shoulders touching periodically as they shifted, until the Starbursts were gooey enough that they started to elongate with gravity. Brynn pulled them away from the fire, dropping the handle of the stick to the dirt so it stood vertically, the end with its colorful goo easily within reach of them both. “Careful. They get really hot.”

  He pulled the stick with the nearly finished marshmallows from the fire so they wouldn’t be done too quickly. “Thanks, Mom,” he teased, and touched the tip of his finger on her nose before plucking off the melted orange Starburst. Using the tips of his fingers, he blew on the candy until it was merely warm and then popped it in his mouth, savoring the sour sweetness melting in his mouth. His eyes rolled with pleasure. “Oh, wow! That might be better than s’mores.” He mimed throwing the marshmallow stick over his shoulder to get rid of it. “I don’t think we need this anymore.”

  “No!” Brynn grabbed his arm. “You can’t do that. You promised me chocolaty goodness.”

  Gage complied by returning the marshmallows to the fire so he could add the lightly brown crust of bubbled sugar. They were ready. “Sort of.”

  He handed her the graham cracker package so she could open it and get a pair of halves for each of them. Using a cracker on each side of the
marshmallow to guide it off the stick, Brynn kept her cracker open, waiting for the addition of a square of a Hershey bar.

  “Close your eyes,” Gage whispered, their faces so close together, he almost forgot what he had planned.

  Her dark eyelashes fluttered to her cheeks, and he had the almost irresistible urge to kiss her. But he would wait—both the s’mores and the future kiss would be worth it. He slipped an orange package onto his lap and opened the candy’s wrapper. Breaking off two chunks, he embedded one on each marshmallow, covered them with the top grahams, and put the remainder of the candy behind him.

  “Try it,” he said, with implicit permission to open her eyes.

  Instead of concentrating on the sweet goodness in her hand, she looked straight into his eyes, melting him like a marshmallow. She paused just long enough for him to wonder what was on her mind and if it was that same thing that had just crossed his.

  “You’re saying I should trust you?” Brynn watched the firelight reflecting in Gage’s golden-brown eyes. “Even though you have clearly messed with perfection and given me no clue how you’ve sabotaged it?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him briefly and then made a show of taking a cautious bite. Of course she trusted him. It wasn’t like he was substituting beef jerky, was he?

  She was about to comment when she tasted it—warm chocolate melting into the marshmallow with a hint of … “Peanut butter?” She gave him a confused but profoundly impressed look. “Why have I never thought of this before?”

  “You like it?” Gage pulled the orange package from behind his back. An extra-large Reese’s candy bar. “I noticed you like peanut butter.”

  “Like it?” Brynn laughed. “My family calls me a fanatic. My philosophy is that almost anything good can be made better with peanut butter.” She raised the s’more, shaking it in front of her. “Case in point.” She took another delicious bite, allowing the creamy peanut butter to enhance the rest of the flavors.

  As Gage started in on his peanut butter s’more, Brynn twisted on the boulder with the intention to lean her back against his. She twirled her free hand in the air to indicate that he should turn the opposite direction. They settled into each other, back to back. Brynn couldn’t think of a place she’d rather be—and it had very little to do with peanut butter.