by Zoe York
“That’s me.” She held out her hand. “Let me properly introduce myself. Grace Bennett. Mother of Tegan Bennett, bride-to-be.”
Ah, for fuck’s sake. Frank sighed as he shook her hand, his brain playing catch-up as he quickly re-organized his assumptions about this strange woman. He’d only met Wyatt’s bride-to-be twice, but now he could see the resemblance. “So that’s what this is about? You’re worried the wedding will be awkward because of a bit of a misunderstanding.” And the fact that Frank hadn’t been friendly in the least.
“Yesterday wasn’t my finest hour. And when I realized you must be here because of Wyatt, and we’re going to spending all week together in some capacity…I just wanted to do my part here.”
“No need to apologize. It’s water under the bridge.” Frank picked up his coffee. “So you were roped into this week, too?”
“A gift from my daughter.”
He toasted her with his mug. “A gift from my entire team. A few of them have come here over the last two years, and they thought it was my turn, that I could do with some peace and quiet.”
She laughed. “And then I happened.”
“And then you happened.” The right side of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile. “You think I need you to run interference for me?”
Her gaze raked over him, shrewd and knowing. “I doubt you need anyone to do anything. But you also seem a bit…this isn’t your scene.”
“You just said it wasn’t yours, either.”
“No, but it’s closer to mine. If I squint, I like a lot about this place.”
He could appreciate that. If he were in a different head space, or here with Bianca, he could probably enjoy it, too. “Don’t let my black mood affect your fun this week, Ms. Bennett.”
She made a face. “Please don’t call me that. I’m Grace. Just Grace.”
“My apologies. Grace, I appreciate your offer. And deflecting the first wave of attacks, as it were. But I’m…” Now it was his turn to pull a weird expression. It reflected the weirdness he felt inside. “I’m a mess. I lost my wife a year ago to cancer, and as you saw last night, I’m not over that.”
“Of course not,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine.”
No, she couldn’t. Nobody could. He nodded gruffly. “So, you can understand why I’m not doing macramé.”
Her lips twisted at how he said it. “Do you even know what it is?”
He was pretty sure it was something knitting-adjacent. Didn’t matter. “It’s something I won’t like.”
“That’s…probably accurate.” Grace took a deep breath, and Frank was almost amused by the restraint she was exhibiting. Officially, he was still grumpy.
Unofficially, he liked the way Grace had decided she was his bodyguard.
He didn’t need protection. But it had also been a solid forty years since anyone had thought he did, and it was oddly endearing. There was something about Grace Bennett, like she might actually be…a friendly face over the next week.
Frank had a lot of acquaintances. He had a couple of blood brothers from service. And he’d had Bianca for thirty years. He hadn’t needed friends, not really.
And now here was this woman. Flighty, emotional, half-cocked in almost everything she did as far as he could tell, but also damn earnest and intent on redeeming herself for behavior that really didn’t need redemption.
He should tell her that. Soon. Right now, she was throwing herself on an emotional grenade for him and he was pretty sure it made her feel better, so he’d let her continue.
“And I’m guessing you don’t want to do kayaking or a picnic for two,” she said.
“Correct on both counts.”
She took a deep breath. “Well, if anyone asks, feel free to throw my name out there as your activity beard. And I guess, uh, well, I’ll see you around.”
She pushed away from the table and headed straight for the door. He watched her go. He didn’t feel anything inside. She thought he’d been checking out that other woman’s breasts? Ha. If he were going to check anything out, it would be the curve of Grace’s bottom in her shorts or the pale stretch of her legs.
But he wasn’t. He was completely disconnected from the part of him that used to appreciate women for their shapes and curves and softness.
He was going back to the cabin to catch up on the much-needed sleep he’d missed out on the night before. And then he had big plans for the rest of the day. A hike, a beer, and a big, shady tree someplace quiet.
Chapter 4
It turned out there were lots of activities for people to do on their own, too. There was a bulletin board at the entrance to the main lodge with the schedule posted on it, and there were alternative activities for introverts.
Grace approved heartily.
It had taken her a long time to figure out that even though she had a social side, at her core she was very much a loner. More to the point, she preferred to do things on her own. She’d hated being married. Constantly needing to discuss and compromise, settling on something neither party was happy with—no wonder the marriage only lasted long enough to give her the world’s most perfect child.
Then her ex had moved back to the city and left her to her own devices, which she poured into a life that actually made her happy without reservation.
What would make her happy today?
She picked a yoga class mid-morning, then a brief wildflower identification lecture right before lunch. Maybe she would head to the boathouse in the afternoon for kayaking, safely after the partnered watercraft activities of the morning were well and truly over with.
As the hours ticked by, she found herself glancing around, wondering if Frank was doing anything. If he’d been coerced into a picnic, although she didn’t see him on the lawn before she went to the dining room.
He wasn’t there, either.
After lunch she headed to the lake and got a quick set of pointers on the basics from the boathouse staff.
“It’s pretty easy,” said yet another handsome young man, flashing her a ready smile. “As long as you don’t mind getting wet.”
She gave him an innocent smile. “I don’t mind at all.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Feel free to take your clothes off in the boathouse.”
Giggling, she headed inside and quickly changed into her swimsuit, then picked one of the provided life jackets off the wall. Safety first.
Back at the dock, she watched the young man demonstrate how to get in and out of the kayak, then did her wobbly best to mimic what he did. Water sloshed into her seat. He was right. She was going to get soaked as she did this, but she was in the slim boat and surely that would be the hardest part.
Except she was wrong.
Paddling wasn’t that bad. She figured out how to roughly go in a straight line, and even got around raft tethered in the middle of the lake.
But once she was pointing back to the shore, everything seemed suddenly more precarious. The wind had picked up, pushing small but persistent waves against the side of her kayak. Even though it wasn’t the direction she wanted to go in, it was easier to turn parallel to the shore and cut across the lake, across the waves.
And that was when she saw Frank.
He was sitting on a picnic table under a giant oak, all by himself, on the far side of the boathouse. He had a bottle in his hand and another one beside him. Not enough to get drunk and climb into the wrong bed, she thought to herself, so really, she had no leg to stand on in noticing that.
And she wasn’t really sure why she did notice him anyway. He was a small figure in the distance. But in their handful of encounters, he’d made an impression on her. She was quite sure—and quite surprised to realize—that she’d recognize his large frame anywhere.
Uh oh.
That was unsettling.
She turned away from him. Better to figure out how to battle the waves than sit with those thoughts for a second longer. She could only imagine how that set of text messages would go down.
Grace: Confession time. I have started looking for Wyatt’s boss at every turn and by the end of the week, he’ll be entirely sick of me. The wedding is going to be amazing, though.
Tegan: Mom…
That was enough to make sure she didn’t look back again. Her daughter loved her, Grace knew that. But there was always a thread of concern about her decision-making skills, especially when it came to men.
She headed out past the raft, because that was easier than returning to the boathouse. At this rate, she’d paddle straight across the lake and need to be fetched by a staff person, so she needed to tackle turning again.
Easy as pie.
Any second now.
“Having trouble?”
Twisting at the waist with a start, Grace dropped one end of her oar into the water. When she saw Frank in a kayak behind her, she squeaked and tried to recover, which only pulled her back alongside the rocking waves.
And then she overcompensated and somehow spilled over the other side of her kayak into the cool, wet darkness of the lake.
With a frustrated kick, she burst back through the surface of the water, sputtering. Right in front of her floated her oar. Beyond that, her kayak sailed majestically upside down.
Heart pounding, she glanced around.
Frank was on the other side of her kayak. She had a minute to compose herself. Thank goodness for her life jacket. She could just hang there in the water and pretend that whole embarrassing flip hadn’t just happened.
“Grace?” He slid into view, his kayak cutting through the water faster than she could catch her breath.
“I’m fine.”
“Take a minute to sort yourself out. Everything floats, you’re in no rush.”
“No rush for what?”
“Getting back in your kayak.”
She laughed weakly. “Sure. Okay. I just learned how to use one of these ten minutes ago.”
“I know, I was watching you. You did great.”
“Until I capsized.”
“That was on me. I startled you.”
“Yeah, you did.” She splashed water in his direction.
He grinned.
“Are you going to help me?”
“Nope. You’re going to help yourself.”
Now was not the time for pep talks. “Frank—”
“You’ll pull me in after you. Better for me to talk you through getting back into your kayak on your own.”
She flailed around, looking for one of the hot, young lifeguards who wouldn’t give her nearly as much grief, but she and Frank were too far from shore. Besides, they’d take one look at Frank and understand he had the situation in hand. “New plan. I’m going to swim back to shore, you push my kayak back for me, okay?”
He laughed.
On the one hand, she liked to see him grinning and laughing. On the other, she’d prefer if they weren’t at her expense. “Is this funny?”
“You’re funny. This is just normal training for me.”
“Spend a lot of time in kayaks, do you?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “How much do you know about your future son-in-law’s job?”
“Let me guess. More swift boat, less kayak, but it’s all the same.”
“See? You’re funny.” He glanced around, then muttered something under his breath.
“Pardon?”
Instead of answering, he tipped himself sideways, flipping out of his kayak.
She swore, and it wasn’t under her breath in the last. “Damn it, Frank, what are you doing?”
He probably only heard the last bit when he resurfaced, but he was grinning again.
Why did she like that so much? She barely knew the man.
Don’t need to know him to be empathetic to his situation. Fair enough. So it was nice to see Sad, Angry Neighbor a little bit happy. And now soaking wet, and still happy. That was a sign of good mental health, surely.
He grabbed his kayak and his oar. Unlike the death grip she had on everything, he touched them loosely, keeping them close, but not appearing to worry about them floating away.
Maybe she should relax.
Maybe, but it wasn’t happening.
“This is harder in the ocean, if that’s any consolation,” he said over his shoulder before flipping his kayak back right-side-up like it weighed nothing. “You do that with yours now.”
“It’s pretty hard in a lake,” she muttered. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her grip and tried to push the kayak over. It floated away a few feet—still face down. “See?”
“Try again, and this time, give it a pop.”
She’d give him a pop right on the noggin. Rolling her eyes, she kicked over to her kayak and got her fingers under the edge. Pop, huh? Fine. One, two, three—
She heaved it up in the air and it flipped over like magic, none the worse for wear.
“That was just lucky.” She looked over at him.
“Nothing to do with luck. Next step is to get up and on top of your craft. I’m going to do it first, and then you give it a go when you’re feeling rested. No rush through any step. Once you get up on top of it, stay there and don’t move.”
“What do you mean, on top of it?”
He stretched one of his arms across the seat, to the far side of his kayak. “Like this.” As if he had a portable trampoline under him, he burst out of the water like a dolphin, launching himself to lay across his kayak, tummy down.
Except Frank definitely didn’t have a tummy. He had abs of steel—she imagined. Don’t imagine his abs, she tried to tell herself. Also, get the #@!*$ up on the kayak. She didn’t listen to either of those excellent suggestions. Instead she looked at her unlikely camp friend. Even in regular shorts and a t-shirt and soaking wet from a dunk in the lake he hadn’t needed to make, he looked really good. Tight ass, long muscular legs. Those imagined abs, still bracing against his kayak. Took a lot of trunk strength to get himself up there, she bet.
He grabbed his oar and turned his kayak around so he could see her—and all in a single pull. “Everything okay over there?”
“Yep,” she muttered. She dragged in a deep breath. Up and over and onto the kayak. She could do this. She had the advantage of a life jacket, after all. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy. She reached across to the handle on the far side and—
Up, she screamed in her head.
Her body didn’t respond.
Unlike Frank, her upper body strength was that of a perfectly normal fifty-something-year-old. Namely, it was wholly inadequate for this particular task. “Nope,” she said out loud. “Not going to happen.”
“Scissor kick as you pull up. Don’t make your arms do all the work. Your legs are much stronger.”
She snorted, but tried it, and of course, he was right. She didn’t get all the way up, but she got a pop. She sank back into the water, but not for long. With another deep breath, she tried again, and this time, she was up, and before the kayak could tip her—no thank you—she leaned her weight forward and flopped like a fish across her craft.
With her bottom pointed right at Frank.
And she wasn’t wearing shorts.
Kill me now, she thought. She didn’t mind her body in a bathing suit. Or out of it, for that matter. With the right person. Normal looking people her own age who also had average bodies. Not Sad, Angry “Defying Gravity Since I985” Neighbor. Frank “How Many Chin Ups Can You Do? I Can Do More” Whatever His Last Name Was.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Just fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic,” she said, projecting her voice.
A couple who had just reached the raft looked in her direction.
She rolled her eyes as Frank chuckled behind her.
“Okay now I want you to think about flipping yourself over and twisting at the same time, ending up in your original seated position.”
“Or back in the lake.”
“Yep,” he agreed. “That’s a solid potential outcome here. But the good news is you already know wh
at to do if you end up back in the drink.”
At least he couldn’t see her while she rolled her eyes. Flipping and twisting at the same time, huh? She lifted her head, then felt around with her hands. Maybe she could do it.
As she thought about it, he drifted into view again. Now he was upright in his kayak and his wet t-shirt was clinging to his thick, broad chest.
“Hi,” she said brightly.
“Any time now, lady.” He winked.
“Bite me, mister.”
He laughed.
She took a deep breath, planted her hands on either side of her kayak and pulled her legs around as she lifted her upper body, twisting and flipping and making a lot of waves.
Much splashing. Not classy or dignified in the least.
But she was sitting in her seat—mostly—and was not back in the drink, as the Navy SEAL had so charmingly said.
“Well,” she said briskly, grabbing for her oar. “That’s enough of that for a lifetime. Now how do I get back to shore?”
Chapter 5
It took them fifteen minutes to get back to the boathouse, and Frank’s cheeks hurt from smiling by the time Grace’s kayak nudged the dock. One of the young guys was quick to help her out, and after she shot Frank a quick glance over her shoulder, she briskly headed inside.
He laughed again.
Sure, she was a newbie to paddling, but she’d handled it all with a hell of a lot of courage. And she was kind of adorable in her big-ass life jacket. She was just a little bit of a thing.
A little bit of a thing with a nice, curvy behind. He’d noticed it in an abstract way at breakfast, but when she was draped over the kayak out on the lake it had been harder to ignore.
He hadn’t even tried not to look. It hadn’t hurt anything, and it had felt kind of good to appreciate a woman’s form.
Now he let himself have one last, surprisingly thirsty gaze at her long legs and lovely hips, delightfully presented in the swim suit that peeked out from under the life jacket. Then he hauled himself out of the water and took care of stowing his kayak away.
