Chapter Nineteen
Baby Trees and Arbor Day
Cheyenne
We severely underestimated our capabilities.
The day itself is ideal for paddleboarding—calm water, blue skies, and sticky hot breezes pressing against sweaty skin—but not when one of us struggles to balance, and the other has a child clinging to her.
“Woah.” Indi braces herself on the foam surface of her paddleboard; feet shoulders width apart, knees bent, paddle held out straight in front of her. “Don’t. Breathe. Indi.”
“You should probably keep breathing, actually,” I advise unhelpfully. My knuckles are white from grasping the edge of the dock so hard, and Milo is plastered to me. If either of us moves, we will tip. “Just ride these waves out, and then slowly lower back down to your knees. Emphasis on slowly. ”
Indi glares at me without turning her head. “Easy for you to say. You’re not about to cap—”
“Inni!” Milo shrieks.
It’s too late. Waves from a red Cobalt outside the no wake buoys outweigh Indi’s precarious balance, and she tips off the board with a short-lived scream. She’s connected to it by ankle strap and she’s a competent swimmer, but neither of those things console Milo.
“Annie!” He pulls the shoulder strap of my blue bikini, eyes wide with fear. “We gotta help her! Annie, hurry!”
“She’s going to be fine,” I say, gently prying his fingers from my suit. “See? All she has to do is climb back up onto her board. How about we cheer her on?” I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away, lower lip trembling. “Buddy, can you talk to me? What’s going on?”
Tears fill his eyes. “I don’t wanna fall in!”
“Sweetheart, we won’t fall in,” I assure him. It doesn’t help that Indi keeps sliding off because her paddleboard is slick, but staying calm will keep Milo calm. Hopefully. “Once Indi gets back on, we’ll just stay sitting, okay? We don’t have to stand today.”
He doesn’t even look at his sister before he starts crying so hard it tugs on my heart painfully. Careful not to teeter our board, I slip the paddle under the straps with my life jacket and reach for Milo. This is his first real meltdown this summer, and I’m absolutely clueless how to handle it, but comfort seems like the best option.
I’m wrong.
Milo shakes his head and pushes my hands away forcefully. His chin lowers into his life jacket and his tiny shoulders shake. The rejection isn’t personal, but I swallow my own tears. I glance at Indi, who’s finally remounted her board. Noting the helplessness in my expression, she shakes her hair out and paddles over to us.
“Hey,” she says, tone upbeat. “What happened, Mi?”
He doesn’t look at her. “You fell in!”
Amusement teases her mouth, but she tamps it down. “Oh, I did, but I’m fine. See?” She holds up one arm to wiggle her fingers, shifts the paddle to that hand, and shimmies her other fingers.. “All good. Actually, the water felt so good.” When he doesn’t acknowledge her words, she quiets her voice. “Milo. What have we talked about doing when we feel confused in here?”
He bristles when she taps his temple lightly, but he lifts teary blue eyes to hers and blubbers, “We try to say it anyway.”
“Exactly,” she says, nodding. “Can you try to tell me and Annie how you’re feeling? That’s the only way we can help you feel better.”
At first, he doesn’t respond. I’m worried he’s not going to, so I try to think of something to say. This is the hardest part of this arrangement—not knowing how to interact with him, not knowing how he behaves when something is bothering him. I want to be firm but gentle. To tell him it’s okay to feel sad or angry or hurt, but it’s not okay to take those feelings out on someone else.
I’m about to open my mouth when Milo finally speaks up.
“I don’t want to fall in!” Tears roll down his splotchy cheeks, and his tiny fingers curl around the plastic cord attached to my ankle. “I can’t swim! I don’t want the water to take me like it took Mommy!”
Bewildered, my gaze snaps to Indi. She mouths I’ll tell you later , and her calm nature eases my anxiety, but barely. I thought Kathleen died from sickness, but if it was the water…
Familiar feelings of inadequacy creep over me, flanked by the overwhelming desire to comfort this child. Two intense feelings on opposite sides of the spectrum. Ones that shouldn’t be able to coexist, and yet, here they are.
“Milo. Hey.” Indi brushes the pad of her thumb under his eyes. “The water can’t hurt you here, okay? That’s why you’ve got a life jacket on, and why me and Annie are with you. Do you want to put your toe in the water to start with?”
His shoulders have stilled, but he shakes his head in a vehement no .
Indi sighs, and I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I used to be a little scared of the water, too. I mean, the lake is huge compared to me!” I sweep one arm wide for emphasis, still holding the dock with my other. Milo blinks up at me with guarded interest. “When I was your age, I didn’t know how to swim on my own even though both of my older brothers did, so my dad brought me down to this dock. Do you want to know what he told me?”
Cautiously, Milo nods.
“He told me that the only power the water has over me is the power I give it.” If I were to close my eyes, I’d be Milo’s age again. Fear would be humming in my veins, Dad’s sandy brown hair would be glistening in the relentless June sun, and his calloused hand would be wrapped securely around mine. “If I can learn to respect it, he said, then I’ll learn how to swim.”
Wide, skeptical blue eyes search my face. “Did you?”
“Learn how to swim?”
He nods again.
Dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, I grin. “I learned to swim so well that I bet I could beat your sister in a race to the buoy.”
Something between a laugh and a sob bursts from Milo. I shriek when Indi dips her paddle under the lake’s surface to flick water at me. The sudden movement nearly sends our board sideways until something steadies it.
I look up. Make that some one. Colton sits on the edge of the dock, his foot resting on the paddleboard directly behind me. He winks, and I inhale sharply. Which is basically just a deep inhale of him . Cologne and body wash and…coffee?
“What happened to your shirt?” I ask at the same time as Milo says, “Colt!”
“Captain!” Colton lifts Milo onto the dock beside him, but he keeps his foot on my board. His white dress shirt has an espresso stain on its front, and I tuck my lips between my teeth to smother a laugh. “As for the shirt, don’t ask. Let’s just say that barista-ing is not in my future, near or far. But,” he adds seriously, turning to Milo, “the tie made it out unscathed.” He lifts an arm to flex. “Freaky fast reflexes right here.”
“What,” Indi quips, “are you a Jimmy John’s ambassador now?”
Colton only wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
“Wait a second.” If Colton is home—I grab his wrist to look at his watch. “Colton! It’s already five? How did it get so late? I need to get supper made, and—”
“Easy, Fini,” Colton cuts in. He turns the watch away from me, but he doesn’t pull his hand away. He flips it so his fingers close around mine and squeezes gently. “It’s almost four. I got off early today. The watch needs a new battery. According to Indi, it completed the suit and tie look.”
Indi shrugs sun-pinkened shoulders. “Fake it till you make it.”
I pull my hand from his grasp, but his touch isn’t why my cheeks heat. Colton has seen me in a swimsuit from adolescence on, but when he looks at me now, it’s different. Maybe because all I can remember is his hand resting over my abdomen. The protective rumble of his voice when he told me I would always be a mother.
Something that is evidenced by the slight softening of my body since my miscarriage. I’m in shape, and I’m healthy, but I don’t have a perfect body. I exercise frequently, especially in the summer, but I also eat most foods in moderation.
I’ll never be like the women he’s dated over the years, with perfect curves and perky chests and flawless faces of makeup.
The reverent way he’s looking at me now makes me feel like I’m on the dock with my dad all over again. But now it’s not the lake that terrifies me. It’s the fear of saying goodbye to the only man who has ever seen me for me when August swoops in next month.
Milo pokes Colton in the arm. “Hey. Do you know how to swim?”
“I do,” Colton says, shifting his focus away from me. He bumps his shoulder—more like elbow, given their size difference—into Milo’s. “Thought about putting on my suit and taking a dip right now, actually.”
“Do you wear a life jacket?”
Colton lifts a dark brow. “Do you want me to wear a life jacket?”
Shifting his gaze to the boards of the dock, Milo nods.
“Then yes. I’ll wear a life jacket.” Colton eases to his feet and holds out a hand. “C’mon. You can help me find one in the garage.”
Milo hesitates. “I can’t get in ‘cause I don’t know how to swim.”
“You don’t have to get in,” Colton tells him. “But you should probably sit on the dock while I do. Swimming is way more fun when you’ve got a buddy. Otherwise, who would I have to talk to?”
Milo laughs when Colton grabs both of his hands to lift him completely off the dock. His tiny life jacket rides up over his soft belly, and his little blue swim trunks have come untied at the waist. Colton waits until they’re on solid ground to swing Milo onto his shoulders, not worried about his shirt getting wet.
“Stop staring at my brother’s butt.” Indi’s dry tone captures my attention. “It’s weird.”
“Indigo,” I say as seriously as I can muster. “It is not my fault that your brother has a fantastic butt to look at.”
“Oh, my gosh, Cheyenne. Stop .” As she says it, she’s laughing. Then, like a summer thunderstorm blown in over calm water, her mood shifts. “By the way, Mom didn’t die from water. The last time Milo saw her alive, she was sitting on the dock behind Vincent’s house. She passed in her sleep that night.”
Emotion—the clawing kind that makes your throat scratchy—lodges in my chest. “Indi, that has to be hard for him.”
“Yes. But I don’t want him to be scared of the water. I mean, look around.” One hand on her paddle, she gestures to our surroundings. “It’s one thing to have a tainted memory from the past. It’s another to let that tainted memory determine your future.”
I swallow around the emotion, and I glance away. She’s talking about Milo, but it feels personal to me. Like something much scarier than jumping into the lake while being terrified of water.
Something that has a whole lot to do with falling in love with my best friend.
Supper has been ready for nearly ten minutes, but I’m reluctant to call Colton and Milo inside. Not because they won’t be hungry, but because they will be.
From when they traipsed back down to the dock—Colton changed into pineapple dotted swim trunks and a faded yellow life jacket—I knew it would only be a matter of time before Colton coaxed Milo in. If Colton is one thing, it’s persuasive. Combine that with his daring side, and you’ve got yourself a lethal combination.
Milo sat on the dock for ten minutes before Colton’s exaggerated enjoyment of the lake became too intriguing. First, he eased back onto my paddleboard. He let his feet dangle in the refreshing water for a few minutes while Colton pinched his toes playfully, feigning innocence and blaming tiny fish. And then, having grown content with the feel of the lake on his skin, he let Colton lower him fully into the water, Colton holding him despite his life jacket.
It's been over an hour now, and I’m starting to think we won’t get Colton or Milo out of the water. I have one of the French doors propped open just so their merriment can drift into the kitchen while Indi and I cook. I also have Colton’s Choose Happy playlist shuffling on my phone to truly set the mood.
“If Milo doesn’t want to eat his broccoli tonight, maybe we’ll have Colton convince him.” Indi unplugs the electric skillet and carries it over to the table. “Worked like a charm for the lake.”
I purse my lips. “That means Colton would have to like broccoli.”
Indi shoots me a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “You’re joking, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. Eight-year-old Colton was convinced broccoli was baby trees. All it took was one Arbor Day presentation at school and…” I trail off when she stares at me blankly. “Oh. Right. You’re not a Nebraskan.”
“Which has to do with…?”
“Well, Arbor Day was started in Nebraska a long time ago as a day to plant trees and—Wait.” My brows lower. “It’s worldwide now, isn’t it? You’ve actually never heard of Arbor Day?”
Indi snorts and grabs the stack of plates from the island. “Yes, I’ve heard of it. You’re so gullible sometimes, you know that? Anyway, one Arbor Day presentation at school, and…?”
“And that was the end of Colton eating broccoli,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t think he’s touched it since.”
“Wow. And he thinks I’m stubborn,” she mumbles under her breath. She stares blankly at the toaster for a moment, then shrugs and snaps out of it. “Do you need help with anything else? If not, I’m going to go short sheet his bed.”
I laugh. “Go for it. But if he asks, because we both know he will, I wasn’t an accomplice.”
Indi salutes before she takes off. She snatches our damp towels to toss in the dryer and her bare feet thump up the stairs. I turn back to putting silverware and napkins around the table. I place them on the right side of the intricate blue floral plates. My mother and grandmother rarely use disposable plates; they claim that meals eaten from pretty dishware are appreciated more deeply.
This might not be my home, but I will continue to embrace that mindset. I want to love the lake house as much as my family has over the years. Tonight, it means using ceramic plates for a simple meal of hamburgers, broccoli, and smiley fries.
I’ve just pulled an oven mitt on when squelchy footsteps approach the open doors, but I pretend not to hear. I hum along to Niko Moon and feign ignorance. Moments later, dripping arms wrap around my legs, eliciting a squeal from me.
“I went swimming, Annie!” Milo exclaims and he beams up at me with his head tipped back. Water drips from his soaked trunks onto the hardwood, and from his curls onto his forehead. His life jacket is nowhere in sight. “Did you see? Did you see me swimming?!”
“I did see,” I tell him. My clothes are soaked now, but I’d take a thousand more hugs just like this if it meant Milo was smiling. “Now, can you tell me something? It’s really, really important.”
Milo nods emphatically, excited to be in on something demanding such importance.
In my peripheral vision, I see Colton step through the door. I keep my focus on Milo. “Did Colton tell you to give me a hug before you dried off?”
The only answer I need is Milo’s eyes going wide. He makes an O with his lips and darts a glance over his shoulder. I laugh and hug him right back to me, his tiny back sun-warmed under my palm. Arms come around the backs of my knees, and he nestles his head contentedly into my thighs. Bedtime tonight might have to come a little extra early.
“Oh, my gosh, Milo! You’re dripping all over,” Indi exclaims as she comes around the corner. She points at Colton. “You literally had, like, four towels with you!”
“He said Annie looked like she was too dry,” Milo offers unabashedly. “And that she needed a bath.”
I look across the kitchen with a raised brow, but my comment dies on my lips. Just like Colton’s seen me in a swimsuit since childhood, I’ve seen him. I’ve rubbed sunscreen on his pinkened shoulders and watched him evolve from boy to teenager to man. But right now, the Colton from five years ago seems significantly less manly than present day Colton.
This Colton is all man. Sunlight silhouettes broad, tanned shoulders and softens the line of his sharp collarbone. A thin, pale scar runs along his left ribcage from a ride gone bad on Blueberry Wine seven years ago, and dark hair peppers his muscled torso, disappearing into the waistband of his trunks. The six-pack he once sported is still there, but it’s softened. Somehow, it looks better than when it was strongly defined.
His stomach is faintly pink from his coffee escapade earlier, and I have the strangest desire to find salve in the bathroom to soothe his skin.
“Milo, let’s get you dried off and changed for supper. You—” Indi points at Colton “—are getting an extra-large serving of baby trees for getting the kitchen and Cheyenne all wet.”
Colton looks at me with a pained expression. “You told her about Arbor Day?”
I lick my suddenly dry lips and smooth clammy hands over my damp shorts. Is it hot in here or is it just me? “I, uh…”
“Can we swim again after supper?” Milo asks Indi, saving me from answering. “I need ta practice more…”
His words fade the farther they drift from the kitchen. I start inching in that direction myself, and I poke my thumb over my shoulder. “I should, uh, go help her. I washed a lot of Milo’s clothes today and they’re not put away yet, so…”
It’s a weak excuse; Indi knows where to find his clean clothes. But I spin on my heel anyway. I barely make it two steps before Colton’s hand closes around my wrist. He tugs me backward, and my shoulder bumps his bare chest. A soft gasp tumbles from my parted lips when he wraps both arms around my abdomen. He turns me to face him, my chest pressed snugly to his and his face tantalizingly close to mine.
His skin is hot from the sun and cool from the water when I place my palms on his chest. It’s an electrifying combination, a heady one. I inhale, filling my lungs with lake water and earthy air and, faintly, rich coffee.
“For the record,” he says, his voice rumbling, his fingertips on my jaw, “you have no idea how crazy you drive me in that blue swimsuit. You can try to avoid me, Fini, but I know I affected you, too. Is that true?”
Yes.
My pulse thrums heavily, and my mouth dries. Just as quickly as his arms were around me, they’re gone. Goosebumps pebble my sun-drenched skin when he lets his fingers dance down my arm. Concentrated intensity hovers in his deep irises and in the lines bracketing his mouth. I grab his face, whiskers prickling my palms, and then I jump into the deep end.
I lift onto my bare tiptoes, and I close my eyes, and I kiss him .
It’s not rational, not in the least, but his body reacts instantaneously. His hands find my waist with practiced ease, bordering on possessiveness. He exhales against my lips and walks us backward until my hips bump into the quartz countertop. Exhilaration zips through my nervous system. I let one of my hands tunnel through his thick, dark hair to press him closer, and he groans deep in the back of his throat.
“Annie, guess what?! Inni said I could go swimming tonight if I eat all my broccoli!”
Colton jerks away from me. His lips are swollen, his breathing uneven, his chest heaving. My heart pounds mercilessly against my ribcage. I press my fingertips to my trembling mouth.
But when Colton meets my eyes one tumescent heartbeat later, my heart drops all the way to my toes.
I can read Colton Del Ray like a book I’ve read once, re-read four times, and annotated deeply.
The flicker of fear in his eyes and the way he rubs his jaw with quivering fingers reads only one thing.
Regret.