33. Cole
“Wow, it looks great in here.” I admire the interior of cabin one as I close the door behind me. Sydney’s head pops up over the loft railing above me, and she beams.
“I think so too,” she says, looking around, and I pick up on a slight difference in her expression from the other times I’ve watched her assessing the renovation. A softness that tells me perhaps she’s starting to believe it.
“I’m almost done,” she says, going back to putting sheets on what looks to be a brand-new king-size bed.
I slip off my boots and roam around, taking in all the changes. I know the cabins were nearly identical, so I assume the ‘before’ looks pretty close to the one Sydney and I have been staying in.
She already mentioned the electrical, HVAC, and plumbing upgrades, but it looks like the interior has had a nice facelift as well.
Black wrought-iron railings replace the chipped wooden ones in the loft and on the staircase, which, along with the new wood flooring, adds a more modern touch. The kitchen cabinets are freshly painted a slate-gray color, and the stainless-steel stove probably works a whole lot better than the one it replaced.
I head up the loft stairs. “Need some help?”
“Sure. Thanks.” She tosses me a corner of the cream-colored comforter to spread across the bed.
“I’m assuming they’re done with this cabin, then?” I ask. “If you’re doing the interior?”
“Yup. They’re on to cabins two and three now. This one’ll be ready for guests as soon as I’m finished, which I’m just about done with—then we can go, I promise.”
She grabs the quilted blanket I remember seeing from the original cabins and folds it neatly across the foot of the bed. I place the pillows at the top while she smooths the comforter with her hand. Then she steps back to admire her work, a hand on her hip.
“It’ll do,” she says, though not fully convincingly.
“It’s perfect,” I correct.
She smiles up at me, nodding her head.
“Just a couple more things to do.” She cringes as an apology, walking briskly to the stairs.
“I’m not in a hurry. Take your time.” I follow her down the stairs, where she quickly puts an extra set of bed sheets in the linen closet. I lean a hip against the kitchen counter, content to watch her as she places homemade soap and lotion from town by the sink. A rush of pride hits me out of nowhere—one that’s intense and all-consuming.
It’s not hard to find reasons to be proud of her. I am for many different reasons. For being courageous enough to go see her mom. For pouring herself into this renovation as much as she has. For simply being the kind of person she is.
My gaze snags on a picture that hangs above the new kitchen table. It’s a modern white frame that holds a black-and-white image of a couple with a For Sale sign staked in the ground.
“Each cabin will have a different picture of my grandparents,” Sydney says softly, the smile evident in her voice as she comes next to me.
“That’s a nice touch.” I can’t help but slide my arm around her, pulling her in close. The little wheeze she makes when I do sends a spark to my chest. I like it so much that I squeeze again, enjoying the sound and the feel of her pushed against me.
“Okay, let’s go,” she giggles, pushing a hand against my chest to move away.
“After you.” I reluctantly let her go and follow her outside the cabin, shutting the lights off before we leave.
“So, where are we off to this time?” she asks as our shoes crunch on the dusty path.
“We’re going on an adventure.” It’s all I give her, and a rush of anticipation surges through me as we walk past a few guests who are headed into the main lodge. Having spent so much extra time with my uncle recently, I’m craving some alone time with her.
Just like the beginning of our last date, I lead her onto the dock.
“Are we doing another sunset cruise?” she asks, her voice perking up as if she would be just as excited as the first time. I know she would be too. I don’t feel pressure to perform or to come up with an elaborate date plan to impress her. It’s not like that with us—we just want to be together.
“Nope,” I say, guiding her into the boat.
“A fishing competition? Whoever catches the biggest fish wins a carved wooden fish?”
“Nope,” I say again with a smirk.
“An overnight camping trip?” She might be spit-balling ideas, but that one intrigues me enough to mentally log it for the future.
“Just sit down and get comfortable,” I tell her, untying us from the dock posts.
We boat south of the island, the opposite direction as last time, while she keeps throwing out guesses for where we’re going, none of them coming close to hitting the mark.
Eventually, I slow to a stop as we approach an island about half the size of Takini. There are no cabins or structures visible to the eye on this one, only thick brush and trees that cover nearly every inch of it.
The boat slides to a stop on the only small stretch of sandy beach I can find.
“Be careful.” I grab her hand and lead her up and over the bow of the boat.
“Wait there.” I hop off and square myself in front of the boat, one foot on the sand, one foot half in the water.
“Jump.” I hold out my arms. She doesn’t hesitate as she places her hands on my shoulders. I place mine on her hips and keep her steady as I guide her down until her feet are firmly planted on the sand in front of me.
She moves to pull away, but I have a knee-jerk reaction to grip her tighter, pulling her to me. I assess her reaction, watching as an intensity flashes behind her eyes, mirroring what’s happening throughout my entire body. I bend to press my mouth to hers, keeping my eyes locked on hers until the very last second.
It's a sweet and innocent kiss. Quick and fleeting. But it’s also intense enough to give me a rush that has me realizing I’m living for these stolen moments with her. With a squeeze of her hip, I pull back, tracking how slowly it takes her to open her eyes.
“Is this what you brought me out here to do?” she asks coyly. “Lure me away from civilization to have your way with me?”
“Don’t tempt me.” I smirk, my voice coming out low and gravelly.
She flashes a playful smile as we turn toward the trees.
“So what’s the plan?” she asks excitedly.
“No plan,” I admit. “We’re just here to explore the island.”
“Alright, let’s do it.”
She falls behind me as I use my arm to cut through the brush and clear somewhat of a path for us.
“Is this another one of your safe places?” she asks as we walk.
“Nope. Never been here before.” I look back to offer a wink. “This one’s just for us.”
I step over a large tree stump, pointing it out behind me so she steps over it. There’s something special about exploring a new place you’ve never been before with someone you care about. It feels intimate somehow. Exciting.
“So, how’s your uncle doing?” she asks, slightly out of breath as we continue pushing through the thick woods. “I’m assuming he’s still here, right?”
“He’s still here,” I confirm. He hasn’t mentioned when he’s leaving yet, but I know it’s only a matter of time.”
“Do you think he’ll be better about keeping in touch this time?”
“I hope so. It seems like he really regrets losing touch. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Nerves grip my stomach for some reason, although she’s never given me a reason to be wary of asking her something like this. “Will you come meet him? Before he leaves?”
She’s quiet for a moment behind me before saying a small, “You want me to?”
I stop in the middle of the woods and turn to look her in the eye. There are certain moments in life that require eye contact, and this is absolutely one of them.
“I want to let you into any part of my life that you’re interested in being a part of,” I tell her sincerely, the words coming from the deepest, most raw, part of me.
She bites her lip as she rakes her gaze over my face. I can’t do a single thing other than stand there and wait for her to break the silence.
“I’d be honored to,” she finally says, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “If he’s important to you, I’d like to meet him.”
I grip back, getting sucked into the way she’s looking at me, like her agreeing to meet my uncle is a way of seeing a vulnerable part of me and my past—and accepting it.
“Come on, let’s keep moving.” I tip my head once the chirp of a bird brings me back to reality.
We trudge forward, crossing a small creek and narrowly avoiding a muddy patch. The land slopes higher and grows narrow as we climb. When we finally reach the very top of the island, there’s enough room for only about a foot on either side of us.
“Whoa,” she breathes, echoing my thoughts. From up here, we have a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the entire island. The lake water spans for miles and miles on end, and another island, even smaller than this one, is only a stone's throw away.
We seem to gravitate even closer together naturally, and I pull her in front of me to wrap my arms around her collarbone. She leans her head back against my chest and uses her hand to lightly grip my forearm. I rest my chin on her head and take it all in—both this aching feeling in my chest and the stunning view.
“This is nice,” I whisper against her hair. She doesn’t say anything. She simply nods, squeezing my arm. I don’t pretend to be a man who knows a whole lot in this world…but I do know with every fiber of my being that there’s no place I’d rather be in this moment than right here with my arms wrapped around her. That both scares and thrills me all at the same time.