Chapter Four
Four
BECKETT’S LAUGHTER SEEMED TO ECHO in the wind. Gray resisted the urge to knock his younger brother sideways but only because it would push him into the water and his brother was driving the boat.
“Could you shut up now?” Gray stared straight ahead as the boat bounced across Lake Michigan, headed for Get Lost Lodge. The shore, dotted with new homes and developments, whipped by. It felt like every time he made this trip, there were more.
Beckett sent him a sideways glance. “Aw, come on. You don’t ask a woman out for years, and the first time you do, you ask her to go to Costco for hot dogs?”
“Why do I tell you anything?” Gray unzipped his duffel bag, pulled out a black Get Lost hoodie, and tugged it over his head.
The tiny island that housed his lodge didn’t have an official name.
For a while now, Gray just called it home.
It took less than fifteen minutes to get from Smile, which was about forty-five minutes from the mainland of Mackinaw City, to Get Lost Lodge.
Gray didn’t mind the commute, and when one of them had to go somewhere, one of the other siblings generally picked them up.
When Beck had met him at the dock on Smile, he’d stupidly told his brother about Charlie.
Mostly because he couldn’t get her out of his head.
He’d stayed at the conference for the better part of the day, but his mind kept wandering back to her: the way she looked, the way she talked, and how her gaze seemed just a little sad. Guarded.
“Because at the end of this month, I get to marry the woman of my dreams, so clearly, I’m wise in the ways of love.”
Gray’s irritation faded like the sun going down into the mountains. He laughed. “You’re an idiot and so lucky that Presley loves you.”
His brother had fallen fast and hard for the woman who’d once just been a guest looking to spend ten days getting over a jerk of an ex.
Mission accomplished. Beckett and Presley were meant for each other.
As much as Gray had loved Lana, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like they were made for each other.
In fact, after they married, he’d often felt like he had to work harder to be good enough to be at her side.
Beckett nodded. “Don’t I know it. But seriously, man, all joking aside, you being interested enough to ask anyone out is a big step.”
Shrugging, Gray continued to stare off into the water.
No big deal. So what? He’d asked a woman to grab some food.
Zero risk. All he’d ever be interested in again.
Gray didn’t know Charlie, wouldn’t see her again.
It was a flicker of time. A moment that meant nothing.
And yet, he couldn’t get over the image of her, those eyes that flashed fire one second and softened the next. It was fascinating to witness.
The breeze held a hint of floral fragrances and freshness. He loved living where they did. He’d never imagined that by the age of thirty-three, he’d be a divorced fishing lodge owner who relied on his siblings far more than he should. That they’d be his closest friends as well as his family.
When he’d married Lana, he’d pictured the two of them spending several years in the gorgeous townhouse her father had gifted them with before starting a family and buying a house in a quieter neighborhood.
Absolutely nothing had gone according to his plan.
Instead, his wife had fallen out of love with him—he hadn’t predicted that slice of pain—he’d lost his high-paying job with her father, and he’d moved out of the townhouse he had no claim to.
After several months of trying to mend their relationship, more him than her, they’d moved forward with the divorce and he’d headed home to Smile immediately with nothing more than the deed to a run-down lodge and his mangled heart.
“Hey,” Beckett said, shooting Gray a quick glance. “You okay?”
There was only one answer to that. “Of course. How are the guests? Everything good?” He needed his happy-lodge-owner face on even though he’d love to just grab a shower and crawl between his own sheets.
The lodge came into view as he asked and a sense of contentment filled his chest. He hadn’t wanted it, almost turned it down.
At the time, it’d felt like a punishment for believing in Lana: Here, take this old, worn-down lodge to go with your broken heart.
He’d put his all into it for the last two summers, and slowly, it was becoming something he was damn proud of. And he hadn’t done it alone.
“Everything is great. We had a group show up earlier this morning, as scheduled. Matteo led a longer hike yesterday and the guests raved about it. Ollie and Bernie led the fishing trip yesterday. That kid is going to take over your business. Bernie’s niece showed up a couple of hours ago.
Quiet woman.” Beckett eased the boat toward the dock, coming up alongside of it.
Once the boat hit the bumpers, Gray jumped out, secured it with the rope. They had three boats in total but when it was just a quick pickup of one of them or a run to the mainland, they took their speedboat.
Beck cut the engine, grabbed Gray’s duffel, and tossed it on the planked deck they’d fixed up and extended last summer.
Gray jumped out and grabbed his bag, then the two of them headed off the dock.
He gave the cabins on each side of the island a quick once-over.
There were four of them, two on each side, tucked between the trees, and each had a partial lake view.
They were considering adding one or two more, but they had to see how the finances worked out.
Jillian’s future father-in-law ran a construction company and had helped them quite a bit, at a discounted rate.
One day, Grayson hoped to build a home of his own on Smile.
He had a spot picked out that he hadn’t shared with anyone.
It wasn’t going anywhere, so it didn’t matter that he was years away from achieving that pipe dream.
The lodge was located toward the far end of the island, nestled into the base of the mountains.
It was a gorgeous two-story structure with a peaked roof, wide decks off the side and back, a sweet little porch off the front, and a generous number of windows.
The air was still thick with warmth, a bit humid but more pleasant than midday.
Cloud streaks washed across the sky like splashes of white paint on an amber canvas.
The path to the lodge had been redone with cobblestone, thanks to Levi and his dad.
The front door of the lodge flew open, as if Ollie had a homing device on them.
She ran and leapt, skipping the stairs and jumping—more like flying—off the porch.
Shit. His heart seized up every time she did that.
She was an actual human bundle of joy. Tiny for her age with curly red hair she kept in a ponytail so it didn’t slow her down, her smile ate up her whole face.
“You’re home! I checked the newest guests in myself.
I helped Levi with last night’s dinner, and me and Bernie narrated the fishing trip yesterday.
More me than Bernie, though, ’cause he always starts telling some story from when he was a boy, but I kept him on track,” Ollie said in one long-winded burst.
Gray bent his knees, ready for her when she jumped up into his free arm. “Thanks, kid. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She kissed his cheek before he set her down. He wondered if she’d always love it here or if she’d go through phases where she didn’t want to hang with all of them.
Grabbing Beck’s hand, she swung it back and forth. “Sorry I couldn’t come with you, Uncle Beck.”
He and Gray shared a smile over her head. “That’s okay, cutie. You can’t be everywhere at once.”
Gray laughed because if anyone could, it was Ollie. Heading up the lodge steps behind her and Beck, Grayson stifled a yawn.
“Bernie’s niece is so cool. She knows how to play guitar and she’s super smart and so pretty.” Ollie let go of Beck’s hand to push the heavy lodge door shut behind them.
Ollie loved new people and they loved her back.
Gray enjoyed hosting people at the lodge, but it could be a lot.
He was more comfortable being alone or with a select couple of people.
Preferably ones he knew well. But Gray had to admit he was curious about Bernie’s family member.
According to what he’d heard, the woman had reached out a while back, looking to learn more about her father, stopped communication abruptly, and then, suddenly, needed a place to stay.
Beck nodded, meeting Gray’s gaze. He knew that Grayson was a bit worried about some woman showing up, claiming to be Bernie’s family.
“She seems great. Like I said, quiet. She’s well-spoken, seems genuinely taken with Bernie, and must have thanked him ten times over dinner for letting her come stay. ”
Beckett was a good judge of character. As long as this woman was on the up-and-up, Grayson was thrilled for their friend to have some family in his life.
Part of the reason Bernie bought into the lodge was loneliness.
His wife had died, they’d had no children, and he truly loved being around the Keller family.
Which was easy to understand since Ollie had instantly made him her new best friend.
“Everyone’s out back around the firepit. We’re having s’mores!”
“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” Gray arched his brows at Beckett.
The sun hadn’t even fully set. Beckett smiled at him. “Jilly’s feeling pretty tired so she wanted to head home soon, but Levi promised s’mores.”
“Mom’s always tired,” Ollie said.
“She works hard,” Beckett replied easily.
“I never get tired from working hard,” Ollie told them.
Gray dropped his bag behind the front desk and followed them through the lodge, then into the dining room to head out to the back deck to say hi to everyone.
“Ollie, you never get tired, period.”
They all laughed. Beckett slid one of the patio doors open, letting the sound of familiar voices and chatter wash over him.
Home. His place, his people. The twinkle lights danced around the perimeter of the deck and in the trees.
He was almost positive Presley and Jilly snuck up more strands every chance they got.
There were a couple of guests’ faces he didn’t recognize, but mostly, it was his family, plus Bernie and a woman sitting beside him, her back to Gray. A strange sensation flitted through his chest. Like mini tremors or small vibrations.
“You’re back,” Jilly said, coming over from where she’d been standing next to Levi’s chair.
All eyes turned to him and Gray started to say hello. He even lifted his arm to greet them. And then, the woman next to Bernie turned in her seat and her gaze locked on his, someone familiar whom he didn’t know at all.
Charlie.