by Liz Isaacson
After several seconds, he managed to calm himself and really enjoy the apple-y taste of her mouth, the swell of her hips against his palms, the presence of her so near him. When he finally pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, it was because he’d realized he was making out with her in a very public place.
“Wow,” she whispered. “I’d really like to know how you show a woman you’re interested in her, if that’s how you kiss someone you’re not interested in.”
Humiliation threaded through him. “Sometimes a person lies to themselves,” he whispered back. “It’s a defense mechanism you might be familiar with.”
She trilled out a little laugh that drove him wild. “So you are interested.”
He kissed her again. Kissed her until he felt sure his lips would bruise. Kissed her until she pulled away first. Then he said, “I like you, Navy Richards,” in a voice that sounded like he’d gargled with glass.
Gavin enjoyed her smile, liked the way she deliberately put her hand in his, even went along with her when she said, “Let’s look at this one first.”
“You know,” he said. “I don’t think you can just look around here. We probably need to call a realtor.”
“Probably,” she said as she reached the porch where his granddad had rested last week. Navy gave Gavin a flirty smile and twisted the doorknob. Cooler air beckoned him inside, so Gavin followed, though he very much felt like he was trespassing.
“This one has a little kitchen. And look.” She picked up a dust-covered piece of paper. “This is the Texas Railroad room.”
Gavin took in the railroad crossing posts on either side of the stripped down bed. The whole place smelled musty, and old—a lot like his grandparents’ house in the winter when they never opened the windows. He couldn’t help the way his nose scrunched up.
“I can’t imagine anyone would want to stay here,” he said.
“Well, you’d clean it up, obviously.” Navy put the laminated paper back on the kitchen counter. “I like it. It’s nice. This is all cosmetic stuff, like what you’re doing to my cabin.” She walked over to a door and discovered a bathroom.
Gavin thought if he poured time, money, and energy into the bed and breakfast, it would probably match the pictures in the real estate listing Navy had sent over.
But just because there were cabins didn’t make this place a ranch. Gavin wanted horses, and stables, and cows, and cowboys. He wanted wide open space and rustling prairie grasses. The Old Main Hill B&B had the wild grass part down, but it was literally one block away from downtown Bride. Not exactly the kind of open space Gavin craved.
Still, he allowed Navy to lead him on an expedition through all eight cabins, as well as the main house. “You’d live here,” she said with this perma-grin on her face that was starting to rub Gavin the wrong way.
“This is a bed and breakfast,” he said for the umpteenth time.
She ignored him, just as she had been for the past hour. They eventually went back to her house, but Gavin didn’t pick up with the painting. He lounged in the shade with her fingers held loosely in his, wondering if this might finally be the relationship that worked. Despite the fact that Navy had danced downtown, gone to see his grandmother, believed in the myths of Bride.
No matter what, a sense of contentment had infected him. A feeling a peace he hadn’t experienced in quite a long time. So he held on to that and wasted the afternoon talking with Navy and kissing Navy and hoping Navy wouldn’t leave him high and dry the way everyone else had.
“Well, that should do it.” Gavin wiped his fingers along the countertop again just to make sure he’d gotten the last of the paint and dust grime. He glanced at Navy. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” She turned in a circle inside her remodeled cottage, her face alight with wonder. “I think it’s fantastic.” She skipped over to him in the kitchen. “Just like you.”
She kissed him quick and pulled away. He stood still, watching her with a small smile on his face. The past couple of weeks of working with her, kissing her, and much as he hadn’t wanted to admit it, dating her, had been pretty great.
Navy fisted her fingers in his shirt and kissed him again, this time with double the passion. Gavin growled and pulled her closer, kissed her deeper. “Want to go to dinner in Temple?” he whispered just before tracing his teeth along her earlobe.
She clung to his shoulders in a needful way he adored, traced her fingernails along the hair on the back of his neck, and giggled as he trailed kisses down her throat. “Yes,” she said, pushing fruitlessly against his collarbone to get him to stop. “But I don’t want to go anywhere Asian.”
“Still recovering from that sushi place?”
“There’s a reason sushi shouldn't be served in central Texas.” She disentangled herself from his arms. “You go shower, and I’ll slip into that pink dress you like, and we’ll go.”
“Okay,” he said. “But don’t walk over. I’ll come get you.”
She paused in her retreat toward her bedroom. “Why can’t I walk over?”
“It’s probably a million degrees outside.” He leaned against the counter. “Just let me come pick you up, would you?” She always walked over, and most of the time he found her on his grandparents’ porch, waiting for him. He didn’t like it. He wanted to pick her up for a date, the way a boyfriend would.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll wait for you to pick me up.” She grinned and ducked into her bedroom, which was Gavin’s cue to leave. He hurried home, but before stepping into the shower, he went into his grandparents’ home to check on them. The scent of roasting meat made his mouth water.
“Pork and potatoes,” Grandmother said from where she sat in the recliner, doing her needlepoint. “Or are you going out with Navy again?”
Gavin leaned over and pecked Grandmother on the cheek. “Navy. Where’s Granddad?”
“Out with the roses.”
“It’s too hot for that.” Gavin looked toward the back of the house, but the walls kept him from spotting Granddad.
“He comes in every few minutes, muttering about spider mites.”
“Make sure he drinks enough water.”
Grandmother gave him a fast smile. “I will, dear.”
“Have you heard from Aunt Ally this week?”
“She called last night.” The needle went in and out, in and out. “She just started her last case, and her retirement timeline still looks good.”
Gavin sat down, though he was risking Navy walking over here. “And you guys are okay with me trying to find a ranch? I mean, I’m going to look nearby, but I won’t be next door—”
“Gavin.” Grandmother put her needlepoint down. “You’ve told us all of this, and we support you. We don’t feel abandoned by you.” She reached out and cradled his cheek in her weathered, wrinkled hand. “We love you, and we want you to go out there and get your ranch.” She smiled, the warmth genuine in her still-sharp, blue eyes.
Gavin nodded, unsure as to why he needed this reassurance from her. He normally didn’t question himself so much. But everything with Navy had shaken his confidence, and he didn’t want to make mistakes. With her. With his life. Not anymore.
Simple fact: He was scared.
He stood and said, “I have to go shower. Thanks, Grandmother.” He hurried through getting ready and feeding the dogs. They were probably out in the yard with Granddad, as none of them had shown up yet. He put their bowls in the shade and jumped in the truck.
His grandparents’ front porch sat empty, and Gavin grinned. Navy sat in the grass at the end of her lane, though, still robbing Gavin of the opportunity to knock on her front door and pick her up properly.
He got out of the truck so he could open her door at least. “You walked,” he said.
“Not all the way.” She flashed him a smile, and he brushed his fingers through her hair, thrilled he could touch her so intimately now without worry.
“One of these days I’d like to come to your
door, present you with roses or something, and kiss you hello.”
Navy paused with one sandaled foot on the truck’s runner. “What would the ‘something’ be?”
Gavin shrugged and boosted her into the truck. “Candy? Women like candy.”
She laughed, her cute little snort breaking up the sound. “If I were you, and you were coming to pick me up, the something should be Diet Coke or cupcakes. Or both.”
“Noted.”
When Gavin got behind the wheel, Navy asked, “So what do you think of taking me fishing one of these weekends?”
He nearly drove off the road. “You want to go fishing with me?”
“You seem to really enjoy it.” She scooted over next to him and tucked herself into his side. “And you’re gone for a really long time when you go. Maybe I could just read on the riverbank.”
Gavin laughed and squeezed her hand. “If you want to come fishing, you can come.”
“What about Steve?”
“Steve’s a big boy. He can handle it. Or we’ll go ourselves.”
“So it’s almost June. You said the fishing’s good until then.”
“So you’re saying you want to go tomorrow?”
“Sure, great idea.”
Gavin shook his head, knowing full-well that it wasn’t his idea at all.
But the next morning found him packing up his fishing gear, a cooler full of food and bottled water, and his backpack with sunscreen and snacks for the road trip. His nerves seemed shaky, and he finally realized it was because he was sharing something important to him with Navy, who had also become important to him.
He showed up at her house early and got out to knock. She opened the door almost instantly and said, “I waited for you to come all the way to the door.” She glanced at his hands and clucked her tongue. “And no cupcakes. This is why I walk.”
He burst into laughter and swept her off her feet and into his arms. He righted her and pressed his lips to hers. “Good morning,” he murmured between kisses. “How’s the curtain rod holding up?”
“Fine,” she said breathlessly, holding onto him even when he started to release her.
The trip to Kingsland Slab seemed to pass in a moment, with times of silence, times full of conversation and laughter, times where Navy sang really loudly to the song on the radio. Gavin enjoyed every moment, glad they could exist in silence sometimes and be comfortable inside their own heads.
“You can camp here?” Navy peered through the windshield as Gavin pulled into the Kingsland RV Camp.
“Sure,” he said.
“Do you ever do that?”
“Haven’t for years,” he said. “Steve likes to go home to his family at night.”
“We fish here?”
He pulled into a parking spot at the RV office. “I have to get the day passes, and then we’ll go down the river a bit. You’ll see people swimming and stuff, and we’ll want to be a little ways from them.”
He ran inside and bought their passes while Navy looked around like she’d never been inside a campground office gift shop before. “Look at this bear!” she exclaimed, holding up a saltshaker shaped like a black bear.
Gavin’s heart softened at the sight of her. So blonde. So smart. So exuberant about a black bear saltshaker. Everything inside him turned to mush, and Gavin recognized the feelings, as he’d felt them before.
This was the first inklings of love, and he twisted back to the cash register so she wouldn’t see it shining in his eyes. He swallowed as he thanked the camp manager and took his fishing passes.
He’d never been as scared as he was in that moment. That single moment before he turned around and found Navy stroking a stuffed sunfish with a giant smile on her face.
15
Everything about Kingsland Slab and fishing was new to Navy. She felt like a child experiencing things for the first time. Gavin taught her how to tie on the fly, how to flick her wrist. She couldn’t do it at all, but he was kind and patient, and she certainly didn’t hate how he stood behind her, a wall of solid muscle, as he explained once again how to hold the rod.
Eventually, she wandered back to the shore and just watched him flick and release. Flick and release. It seemed impossible that a fish would be able to latch onto the hook, but Gavin reeled in half a dozen fish in an hour’s time.
Gavin waded in and rested his pole next to hers against the tree where she’d set up their camp chairs. “You okay?”
“Best day ever.” She grinned. “Well, maybe. What have you got in the cooler?”
“Let’s see.” He sighed as he sat down and opened the cooler. “This one’s an old family recipe.” He pulled out a sandwich made on a round roll instead of two pieces of bread. “I’m not sure you’ll like it, so I’ll keep that one.” He put it on his lap and started to dig in the cooler again.
“Wait a second,” she said. “What is it? I like old family recipes.”
He gave her a wary look. “It’s a spam and egg sandwich. Pickles. Mayo. It’s sort of like egg salad, but with spam.”
Navy couldn’t think of anything more repulsive. Well, besides grape-flavored things.
“And I’ll keep it.” Gavin chuckled as he went back to the cooler. “Told you you wouldn’t like it.”
“I want to try it.”
“I packed that turkey and Swiss you like.” He produced a sandwich made on regular wheat bread and dangled it in front of her.
“Gavin, I want to try the spam and egg.”
“All right.” He passed her the roll and watched with amusement as she opened the sandwich bag.
The scent of pickle and mayo and egg hit her when she opened it, and her stomach squirmed. She wasn’t exactly a vegetarian, but she didn’t eat red meat. She withdrew the sandwich and took a big bite, her eyes locked on Gavin’s.
She chewed, the taste salty from the spam and acidic from the pickle. “It’s not bad.” She passed the sandwich back to him.
He glanced at it and then looked back at her. “So now I have to eat it with a bite taken out of it?”
She slapped his knee. “You kiss me. I think you can handle eating a sandwich I bit off of.”
He muttered something under his breath as he rebagged the sandwich and tossed it into the cooler.
“What was that?” she asked in a teasing tone.
“I want my whole sandwich,” he said in a clear voice. For a moment, she thought he was mad about the bite, but when he looked at her, she found the mischievous glint in his eye. He reached for her and kissed her, really taking his time to explore her mouth.
She melted into him, a feeling of safety and a rush of adrenaline pouring through her. She really liked Gavin, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. It had only been a few weeks since they’d met, but she felt like she’d known him for years. She trusted him in a way she hadn’t trusted a man in a long time.
Navy couldn’t make sense of how comfortable she felt with Gavin. She suspected the fact that he met some of his grandmother’s advice for who Navy should be with had a lot to do with it. And she wasn’t sure if she liked that or not.
Gavin broke their kiss with a massive grin on his face. “All right.” He pulled out some bottled water and her diet cola. “Drinks. And I have grapes and cheese sticks. Oh, and chips.” He opened his backpack and pulled out two bags of chips.
They ate in silence, the picturesque Llano River before them. Navy snapped a photo of the landscape and then a selfie of her and Gavin. He fished the afternoon away and she napped, read, and spent an unhealthy amount of time watching him.
She finally waded out to try fishing again, the water cool against her legs. She failed at the fishing, so she took her pole back to the tree. She got back in the water just to stay cool and to be nearer to Gavin.
Navy inched closer to him, careful to stay out of range of his casting arm. She took a step and her ankle twisted. She yelped at the same time she went down, flailing to grab onto him.
Next thing she knew, river w
ater splashed in her face, up her nose, and then Gavin landed next to her. More water cascaded over her, causing her to sputter as she tried to figure out how she’d ended up on her backside, fully dressed, in the Llano River.
She looked at Gavin, who had water dripping from the brim of his cowboy hat as well as his nose. “Sorry,” she said just before she started laughing.
He joined her, the sound of their combined voices lifting into the sky. She snorted, but she couldn’t help herself. Gavin slung his soaking wet arm around her shoulder and squeezed her. “Is that your way of saying it’s time to go?”
“No, I swear….” She couldn’t speak through her laughter. She and Gavin sat in the water, chuckling for several more moments, and Navy thought there couldn’t be anything better. No one she’d dated in the last five years in Amarillo would be happy she’d pulled them into the river. None of those men even liked fishing, and Navy had never found herself going on many outdoor dates.
But sitting there in the Llano River with Gavin felt like the most natural thing in the world. Navy took a few seconds to bask in the knowledge of that and let it settle into her mind. Then she put her hand in Gavin’s and allowed him to help her stand.
“Let’s get packed up, and then we’ll go find some ice cream,” he said, and Navy swore he was speaking her love language. At the very least, he’d been paying attention all these weeks, and that made her feel cherished.
June passed with waves of heat, and lazy days reading while Gavin worked, and sultry summer nights in various small Texas towns scattered across Hill Country. Gavin took her to music festivals, and barbeque tastings, and dances. And the man could dance.
Navy woke up the day after Independence Day and practically bolted from bed. “Death by Chocolate Week.” She’d already packed her bags; they’d been waiting by the front door for days. She’d found the event three hours from Bride several weeks ago, and Gavin had made their hotel arrangements.
She’d never been so excited for something in her entire life. An all-you-can-eat chocolate chip pancake breakfast. Chocolate tastings all day long, for days. And a chocolate slip-n-slide. Not that Navy would be doing that, but she couldn’t wait to watch the kids.
