Chapter Five #2
Avery envisioned overcrowded beaches, noisy Jet Skis.
No more cookouts and bonfires. The loons would lose their home.
A sting rose in her throat. That would ruin this place.
She loved the historic lodge and log cabins.
Guests used to say Montressa reminded them of a summer camp for adults.
You couldn’t manufacture that kind of nostalgia.
She tucked the loose piece of hair back again and stood straighter.
“I love it the way it is.”
Paulson silently continued down the path. And she wondered if he’d been trying out his ideas to get her thoughts. And why was he in the area? No one came to the lake a month before opening day without a reason.
“So, Paulson,” she said. “What brought you up here?”
“I was checking out the lake,” he said, “and I’d always heard about Montressa. Nate suggested I stop by.”
They passed Miles’s blue canoe, beached in the sand, and walked around the bend.
Montressa’s small marina consisted of three docks, one with boat slips.
Miles looked up from fixing a motor. He stood, wiped his hands on his pants, and strode down the dock toward them.
Upon recognizing Paulson, he seemed to grow larger with each step; his chest expanded, his jaw tightened, and his pecs flexed under the waffle Henley shirt.
Paulson’s left hand came to rest in the small of Avery’s back. She tensed.
“Miles Magrum. I was just talking about you.” Paulson offered a fist bump with his free hand.
Miles bumped back unenthusiastically, a frown accompanying his annoyed stare. “Paulson. What brings you here?”
“I was in the area and had to see the lake you used to talk about,” Paulson said.
Miles’s eyes flicked to Avery’s, and something in his glance told her this was news to him.
“Miles, you like to fish?” Paulson mimed casting a fishing rod. “Seems like a good place for a fishing—”
“The resort’s not open until mid-June.” Miles cut him off. “If you want to fish, make a reservation. Otherwise, leave.” He pointed to the driveway.
Avery’s jaw dropped. More big dock energy. Maybe Miles hadn’t expected to see Paulson today, but it wasn’t like Paulson was being a jerk. And Miles loved to fish. She’d never seen Miles act so rude.
Paulson checked his Breitling and pulled his cuff-linked sleeve back over it.
“I need to get back, anyway.” He sounded defeated. Maybe he’d seen this side of Miles before. “Thanks for the tour, Avery. I enjoyed meeting you.”
As he walked off, Miles whispered, “Did we know Paulson was coming?”
“I did and I tried to contact him, but he didn’t respond.” Avery matched his whisper. “I thought he wanted to book a vacation or something. Or help the Coopers. Why were you so rude to him?”
“Because Paulson doesn’t help people. He buys them, wins them over, or competes with them. I’d never accept his help.”
“You’re making him sound evil. He seemed nice.”
Except for wanting to tear the place down. Granted, that was a big deal, but it would only add fuel to Miles’s rage fire.
Miles released his dart-shooting glare from Paulson’s back, fixed his gaze over the water, and ran a hand down his stubbled jaw. She wasn’t sure whether to stay on this dock, go after Paulson and apologize for Miles’s behavior, or take the long way back to the lodge and avoid them both.
“The way he touched you.” Miles gritted his teeth. “He’s trying to charm you. Whatever you do, don’t go out with him.”
He could not be serious. Her dating life wasn’t Burger King. He couldn’t have it his way.
“Excuse me.” Avery put her hand on her hip and glared at Miles, channeling her own big dock energy. “You don’t get to tell me who to date.”
“I’m not. I’m telling you who not to date.”
He walked back to the boats. Avery followed, hot on his heels. Casper trotted beside her, clearly taking her side in this ridiculousness.
“Same thing. And you are the very last person who gets a say in who I date.” Well, maybe not very last. He was right in front of Trent.
“He’s not a good guy, Avery.” Miles’s stare grew cold. “Paulson treats people like business transactions. He’ll divest himself of you when he decides you’re no longer needed.”
“And who are you to gatekeep everyone else? You sleep with a new woman every night and act like it’s admirable. But if he did the same, it’s transactional? If I did it, I’d be slut-shamed. How come you get your own set of rules? Entitled people like you are the worst.”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“That’s unfair. I’m honest about commitment. Women who date me know what they’re getting.”
Avery stared across the cove, chewing her lower lip. Her history with him told a different story.
“I didn’t know what I was getting. I still don’t. Explain to me what I got.” She shifted her gaze and narrowed her eyes at him. The only way off this dock was past her, and this time, she wasn’t letting him walk away.
Miles took a minute to gather his thoughts. His chiseled jaw relaxed, softening his expression. His chestnut eyes turned the color of maple syrup.
“You knew from the start I was broken. I was too young to understand that you’re never done grieving the loss of a parent, especially if you bottle it up inside.
Which doesn’t justify how I ended things.
” He let out a tired sigh. “After the trauma of saving Max, I said things I can’t take back.
I made mistakes. I should have called you afterward. At least to say I was sorry.”
His face filled with an astounding sadness that made her stomach clench.
He stepped toward her, and his warm hands cupped her shoulders.
“The one good thing that happened the year after my mom passed was you. You’re the only woman who’s ever had all of me, and I couldn’t have picked a better person. ”
Avery’s heart tightened into a ball. Like her, he’d hurt all this time too.
“Since then, I haven’t wanted to give my heart to anyone.” His voice cracked and he rubbed his jawline. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. But you haven’t given me the chance.”
With one hard swallow, all her words vanished.
Had Miles never had another girlfriend? Maybe he had but had held part of himself back.
Avery could relate. She’d loved Trent—but their love had never come close to what she’d felt for Miles.
For the last decade, she’d thought Miles hadn’t felt the same way when all the while, their breakup had broken him too.
He’d closed his heart and never opened it again.
Assuming he was happy had been easier than learning Miles had given up on love.
She’d never wish that on anyone, especially him.
They stood side by side, watching a pair of ducks out on the water. Casper paced the dock, sniffing and panting. A gentle wind rustled through the trees. If they hadn’t been discussing their relationship’s aftermath, she might’ve suggested they eat lunch on the dock, like they did that summer.
How had they wound up here, staring out at the lake, him finally admitting the depth of what he’d felt a decade ago?
It was all so profoundly sad, she wanted to reach across the inches between them, wrap an arm around him, and pull him to her.
Bury herself in his chest and smell her Miles.
The one who smelled like an evergreen forest after a light rain, with notes of lake air, sweat, and chocolate milk.
A little bit like earth, a little bit like water, a lot like heaven.
She stole a glance at his hand as it flexed and relaxed. They couldn’t go back to what they’d had, and she wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. He kept saying they were friends.
Neither one moved, and a small part of her knew that was for the best. The comfort of his embrace wouldn’t heal the last decade. She couldn’t process this new information standing so close to him. Especially when his deep, broody stare channeled the hot model in a glossy cologne ad.
Casper stopped pacing and crouched beside Miles, eyes wide, face straining. And there on the dock, he finally found relief. Out came a tube of lip balm. Avery gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. It took everything inside of her not to giggle.
“Well, look at that.” Miles’s smug grin was beautiful. They laughed, the tension releasing into the light breeze.
She pulled a poop bag out of her pocket. “Um, I’ll clean that up.”
Miles took the bag from her hand.
“Nah, I’ll get it.” He nodded up the lakefront path, where Casper was plodding back to the lodge. “Go take care of Casper. Poor guy needs a little TLC.”
The dock creaked as she walked off. Avery thought about turning back and admitting to Miles how often she had thought of him in the intervening years.
She’d tried not to, but she often mistook runners in the park for him.
Milk bottle caps sent a ripple through her heart.
Eclipses, meteor showers, strawberry moons.
She’d watched every astronomical event because knowing both of them might be looking at the same thing felt like a warm hug.
Avery made a deal with herself to peek back at the dock once she reached the bend. If their eyes met, she’d worry about Casper later, run back, and wrap her arms around Miles. They would figure out the rest. If not, she’d leave him be.
By the time she turned around, he’d turned his focus to a boat engine, his ratchet wrench clicking as he loosened a spark plug.