Chapter 19 #2
“This is the arts and crafts building.” Elliott motions to the building, but we don’t stop walking.
“So how did you end up being the owner, if this place was around when you were young?”
“It went up for sale because the owner was retiring. There were people interested who were going to buy it to build a home on the land. A developer or two came sniffing around. But I couldn’t stand the idea of other kids not being able to have the same amazing experience that my siblings and I did.
It was a healthy escape at a time in our lives when we needed it.
The community was going to be losing something important, something that mattered, and I thought, ‘I have the work ethic and the skills to keep this place going.’ Before I knew it, I was approaching the owner.
He agreed to hold the mortgage on the place for me. ”
“That says a lot, that he’d take that risk on you.” Though I understand why the man would. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a more loyal, dependable man of his word than Elliott.
Our hands brush each other’s as we navigate the path, and my breath hitches, though we both pretend not to notice.
“Agreed. That’s one of the bonuses of growing up in a small community—people know each other.
He’d known me since I was little, knew what kind of man I was, and felt comfortable that I’d work hard to continue to make the camp successful and wouldn’t default on the loan.
Banks don’t generally take that kind of thing into account, and at that age, there was no way I was getting a bank loan for it. ”
We come across the largest building yet, and Elliott comes to a stop in front of it.
“This is the dining hall. There’s a full commercial kitchen inside, though a lot of the equipment is a bit dated.
The campers eat three meals a day in there.
I usually try to employ kids from the food service program at a small college nearby to work it for the summer.
Figure it gives them some experience and a thick skin. ”
I tilt my head in question.
“There’s no one pickier about food than a bunch of kids, believe me.”
I chuckle, and Elliott smiles at me before turning and leading me farther down the path.
“Being out in the woods like this reminds me a lot of where I grew up in Alaska.”
His head whips toward me, forehead creased. “Alaska?”
I nod. “That’s where I grew up. In a small town called Sunrise Bay.”
He frowns. “I assumed you were from Boston.”
“You know what they say about assuming…” I smile at him so he knows my words are in jest.
Elliott rubs his palm over his jaw. “Well, I certainly feel like an ass now.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s in the past. Let’s just move forward, okay?”
He studies me for a beat, then nods.
“So, remind me again, what happens here during the off-season? Does it just sit dormant?”
“I can see your little urban planner brain hard at work. ‘Highest and best use.’”
My cheeks heat a little, because he’s not wrong. I can’t help it. Can’t help but think about how this place could be used most efficiently. “Maybe there’s a little of that, but I really am just curious.”
“Groups of snowmobilers or hunters will rent out the cabins. Sometimes larger corporate retreats will come here and host weeklong or weekend retreats for their employees. They’ll bring in a chef and use the dining hall in that case.”
“Have you ever thought of hosting wedding receptions in the dining hall?”
I notice Elliott’s step falter for half a second and look at him.
“No, I hadn’t. But that’s not a terrible idea.”
“All my ideas aren’t terrible, contrary to popular belief.” I nudge him with my shoulder, and he nudges me back.
I can’t help but smile. This feels…nice.
It’s then I realize that I haven’t even thought about my boss or my birth mother since I arrived. Not once.
I’m unsure whether this tentative truce with Elliott will last or not, but it’s given me an opportunity to see that there’s more to this man than I first thought.
Yes, he was judgmental right off the bat and thought he had me all figured out, but it’s clear to me that his reaction is a result of things that have happened in his life.
I’m not sure it was ever really about me.
The path comes to an end at the edge of a large clearing and an open field.
“This is where the kids play games if we need somewhere with more space.”
We both stop side by side, so close, in fact, that our shoulders brush. I hadn’t realized we had been walking so close together.
I turn to face him. “You’ve created something really special here, Elliott. You’re right to want to hold on to it.”
“Thanks.” His gaze roams my face, and neither of us says anything, the tension between us thickening.
I feel drawn closer to him, a tug on some invisible thread between us.
My lips tingle when his gaze dips there, and I can’t help but lick them.
Elliott swallows hard, then everything around us disappears—all the sounds of the leaves twisting in the breeze, the engine of some far-off airplane, the odd crack of a branch in the forest when some creature walks over it—it’s all gone. It’s just the two of us.
He leans in. I do the same. Our lips are only inches from each other.
That’s when I come to my senses.
What am I doing?
We may be getting along better, and we may be attracted to each other, but I can’t go starting something up with this man. I’m leaving.
Blinking, breaking our stare, I step back. “I’d better head back. I’ve taken up enough of your time today.”
Elliott rubs his palm over the stubble on his cheek. “Yeah, right. Let me walk you back. I’m headed that way anyway.”
The walk back is a thousand times quieter than the walk to the field, but neither of us addresses it or the awkwardness swirling around us now. It’s safer that way.