CHAPTER 9
Why did I say no to the map last night? My stomach lets out a growl as loud as a moose in mating season. I’m standing in a massive empty room with heavy drapes and old artwork in gold frames on the walls. The wood floor is set in a herringbone pattern. Three floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the back courtyard. A grand piano, harp, and a few music stands sit on top of a small stage at the end of the room.
I’m in a ballroom from the regency era.
Do they use this space? Did Evie have her debutante ball here?
Questions I will ask her when she wakes up. For now, my body demands breakfast. Exiting the room, I take a left, back the way I came. Ten minutes (and lots of wrong turns) later, I follow the heavenly smell of waffles and coffee down the hall until I reach the kitchen. Clara and Harvey must have come already, though it’s only seven in the morning. But I’m incredibly grateful they got here as soon as they did. Evie’s a fabulous cook, but Clara? Phe-nom-en-al.
Swiping my mouth, making sure no drool is actually coming out, I step into the kitchen to find Bennett—shirtless.
Would it kill him to get fully dressed?
I’m certainly dying from the view I don’t get to touch.
Also… how am I supposed to eat when Bennett’s flaunting his perfect torso in front of me? And how long can I stand here checking him out before it gets awkward? Five, ten, a thousand seconds? Warmth floods my neck and face. Breathe, Mils. It’s just a chest. A glorious, can’t-stop-staring chest. I knew Bennett was attractive from photos Evie showed me, but seeing him, half-naked, in person for a second time is making it super-duper hard not to flirt with him. My fingers are dying to run across the ridges of his muscles. Must resist temptation. Act normal, stop gawping at him!
“Good morning,” Bennett says, a ready smile on his lips. “I made too many waffles. Would you like some?”
My stomach answers for me by letting out a monstrous yowl.
Bennett laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He hands me a plate with a fluffy waffle on top. Pointing behind him, he says, “There’s fruit, bacon, syrup, and coffee on the counter. Help yourself.”
“Thank you. This looks amazing.”
“You’re welcome. Let’s hope it tastes good. It’s been a while since I’ve cooked anything.”
“Are you not a breakfast person?”
He shakes his head and takes out the next waffle off the iron. “On the contrary. I love a hearty meal first thing in the morning. I haven’t woken up early enough lately to make myself food before work. I usually settle for a smoothie or a protein bar.”
“You sound like me. The only time I get a gourmet meal is because of Evie. Speaking of, did you hear what time they got home last night?”
Bennett takes a sip from a mug. “No. They must have come home after I finally fell asleep. What time was it?”
I hold up three fingers. “This makes me sound like a little old lady, but how in the world do people stay up that late? I’m a zombie by ten. Unless it’s finals week, then caffeine is my best friend, and sleep is my enemy.”
“Oh yes, I remember those weeks. They’re rough.”
“They are.” I drizzle syrup and strawberries on my waffles, take a few slices of bacon, then hop on a stool across from where Bennett is pouring the last of the batter onto the waffle iron. “Are you heading out for a swim or run this morning?” Right, because calling out his lack of clothing is the right way to keep your mind off of how hot he is. Yeesh, Mils.
“Kayaking, actually. Do you want to come? No one else will be up for a while.”
My stomach twitches with a brief bout of unease. I’ve never been kayaking before. Can I do it? How difficult is it? What if I have to pee while we’re out there? Will we tip over? But when will I have this opportunity again? One of the reasons I agreed to come with Evs this summer was to try new things—experiences I haven’t done before or won’t possibly get to do anytime soon. Ignoring all my worries and “what if’s,” I say, “Yeah. You’ll have to teach me though. This will be my first time doing it.”
“First vacation. First kayaking trip. What else haven’t you done before?”
I snort. “A lot of things.”
“Oh.” His lips pull down. “I’m sorry. Well, what else are you hoping to do this summer?”
“Everything.” As much as I can with the time I have available.
Bennett laughs, something he does more than I thought he would, considering Evie said he”s had such a difficult time after his wife passed away. “Not a long list at all then.”
“Exactly,” I say, smiling at him.
“Eat up. We’ll head out as soon as you’re ready.”
I salute him, shoving a massive bite of waffle into my mouth. Chewing is difficult with how much food I shoveled in, but I manage to swallow it. Continuing this impolite and gross way of eating, I lick my fingers when I’m done. “Compliments, Chef. Breakfast was delicious. What should I wear?”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. And a swimsuit is fine. We’ll get wetsuits from the boathouse before heading out. This early in the morning, it’s a bit cold to be without one.”
“I know how to get to the backyard from my room.” And that’s about it. “Should we meet there in twenty minutes?”
“Yep. Don’t forget sunblock.”
“I won’t.”
I only get lost once on the way back to my bedroom. Changing quickly, I use the facilities, slather SPF all over my exposed skin, then head down to the back patio. Bennett’s sitting in a lounge chair, staring out at the lake. The waves are barely there, making the top look glossy. A cool nip in the air makes me shiver. “I’m ready,” I say, interrupting Bennett’s trance.
He hops up. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
“How did you sleep?” I ask as we head to the boathouse located right by the shore.
“My mattress here isn’t as comfortable as the one back home. It takes a slight adjustment each summer, but eventually I get used to it. How about you?”
“This mattress is a trillion times better than the one at our apartment. I slept like it’s the week after finals.”
Bennett shoots me a big smile. “Good. I’m glad you got the rest you needed.”
At the boathouse, Bennett opens the door to the top floor. Bins line the left side of the room with labels on each one. Life vests, wetsuits, and snorkeling gear are by one another. To the right, paddles, innertubes, and sand toys rest on the shelves. A staircase leads to the bottom floor. From the glimpse I catch, a motorboat, paddle board, and other watercraft are stored down there.
Bennett passes me a wetsuit. “Here, this one should fit.”
Taking it from him, I slide a leg in. I try to pull it up my thigh, but it’s like hand-rolling sausage into its casing. “Is there a trick to this?” I ask, attempting to get my other leg in.
“Not really. These are awful, but necessary.”
Yeah, well, my insides are being squeezed like a squishy stress ball between fingers. I haven’t thought of myself as overweight since I was a freshman, but wrangling myself into a wetsuit is bringing out a whole slew of insecurities. I’m like a popped can of biscuits over here. Good thing Bennett’s currently struggling to get himself trapped into one of these rubber suckers and isn’t paying attention to me.
Pulling the last bit over my shoulder, I zip myself up. “Jeez, that’s a workout.”
“I know. If it wasn’t so cold, I’d skip using one.”
If he gave me the option beforehand, I might have chosen to freeze over the torture of the neoprene.
Bennett leads the way down the stairs. He passes me a different kind of paddle than the one hanging on the wall upstairs. “One-person kayak or two?”
I shrug. “What do you suggest?”
“Are you nervous? If you are, we should go together for your first time.”
I’m uneasy, but not necessarily nervous. I probably could handle myself. At least, I think I could. But if Bennett is offering the opportunity to be with him, I’ll take it. Yes, because he’s freaking gorgeous, but also because he’s done this before. Chances are, if something goes wrong, he’ll be able to rescue me.
“Two-person it is,” I say, pointing to the teal and gray kayak hanging on the lowest brackets of the wall.
Together, we get the boat down and walk it to the water. We get to knee height in the lake (and holy cow, the water is like ice) when Bennett tells me to climb aboard the front. I situate myself, my knees slightly bent, my feet angled toward the sky.
“I’m getting in,” Bennett warns. The boat rocks side to side as the big muscular guy behind me settles in.
Grasping the edges, I hold on tight. Though if the kayak tips over, holding on won’t save me.
“Are you okay?”
Considerate-Bennett from the hot tub is back. And I appreciate his simple yet sweet gestures more than he realizes. “Yeah,” I say, nodding, feeling more confident because of the man behind me.
“I’ll call out what side to row on. Once we get out a bit, we can float for a while before paddling back. Does that sound okay?”
“That’s perfect,” I say.
Bennett tells me how to paddle—dig the oar deep into the water as opposed to skimming the top—and what side. We quickly find a rhythm, and with how smooth the water is, we glide fast. Bennett takes us north, farther up the lake, staying somewhat close to the shoreline. I ask him questions about the wildlife and a few of the islands we pass by.
“We can stop paddling for now,” he says.
Resting the oar straight across my lap, I say, “There’s hardly anyone out here right now. I figured the lake would be packed.”
“June through August it is. The water temp is a little on the chilly side in May, but it’s my favorite time up here before the crowds come en masse.”
“What was it like growing up here? Do you get sick of spending every summer at the lake house?”
“You’d think I would, but no. There’s nostalgia coming here and as long as my family keeps coming, I will too.”
“That’s sweet. I’m envious of how close you guys all are.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, they get on my nerves faster than my students, but we get over our quarrels fairly quickly.”
Does that mean everyone is over the hot tub incident from last night already? “What’s that ballroom for?”
Bennett chuckles as if remembering a fond, funny moment. The sound carries across the open lake. “My grandma loves to dance. When they bought this house, they put it in so Grandma could invite all her couple friends over for a party. When I was little, I remember sneaking down one night after bedtime and watching everyone dance. I never thought my old decrepit grandpa could toss my grandma over his back and under his legs like he did.”
Do Mom and Dad know how to dance? Would their marriage have been different if they went out dancing together? “Aw, they really are perfect for each other. How old were they when you saw them dancing?”
“In their late-fifties. That party was the last one they held.”
“Did you ever learn to cut a rug like they did?”
A gentle wind picks up, making waves come at a steady pace. The kayak bobs, but the movement is gentle and relaxing.
“No. My parents didn’t either. Which is too bad because the room is unused now.”
“We could have a dance party there. It won’t be the same as your grandparents’ style, but might still be fun one night this summer.”
“And who would you dance with? I thought I heard you say last night you’re on a man-ban? Is that what you called it? And why?”
He caught that, did he? Bennett is familiar to me because of all the stories Evie’s told me about him. But I don’t really know him and I’m not ready to admit the real reasons I’m staying away from the opposite sex. Keeping to the truth, but a much lighter version, I say, “A man-ban means I’m not dating right now. I’ve had a few rough breakups the past year and need time to myself.”
“I can relate to that.”
Hearing the melancholy in his voice, I look over my shoulder at Bennett. His sunglasses hide his eyes, but his lips are turned down. “I’m sorry for your loss, Bennett.”
“Me too.”
Like fog rolling in, there’s a heaviness in the air. “Shoes or slippers?” I ask, continuing our game from last night and doing what I can to dissipate his despair by distracting him.
“Neither. I prefer sandals.”
Hmm. I’ll have to pay attention to what kind of sandals a millionaire wears. “Text or call?”
“People who like to talk on the phone are weird. Texting is much easier and faster.”
“I agree. Driver or passenger?”
“Driver for sure. I like feeling in control.”
“Funny, I’m the same.” Evie’s car is nicer and newer than mine, and yet, I drove us here. I have a feeling I’d be okay with letting go and allowing Bennett to drive me around. “Mop or vacuum?”
“You ask weird questions.”
I laugh. “I know. But whatever pops into my head is what I say.”
“Are you always like that?”
If he only knew how many things I wanted to say to my parents growing up. Or how easily I give in to Evie because arguing or pressing my point isn’t worth the anxiety that comes with it. “Not at all. Most thoughts stay locked inside.”
“And what are you currently keeping back?”
This only makes me laugh more. For me to empty everything I’ve thought since meeting him would be like a tidal wave crashing over him. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you. For now, let’s keep things light.”
“That bad, huh?”
I wobble my head from side to side. “Not all bad, but there’s a lot. We’d die of starvation by the time I finished.”
“I don’t like when people pressure me to open up. I won’t force you to either, but if you ever need to vent or want to talk, I’ll be around the next few months.”
His words are full of sincerity and I’m desperately waiting for something to come up about Bennett that makes me think of him as a brother or friend, because so far I haven’t found a single thing I don’t like. “Thanks, Bennett. That’s nice of you to offer. And I know I’m new, but if you need someone to vent to, I’m here as well.”
Bennett’s oar dips into the water. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The kayak turns to the right.
“Are we heading back?” I ask, not ready for our morning to be over yet. I’m enjoying my alone time with Bennett and getting to know him better.
“If you’re ready. Otherwise, I was going to go around that island and then head home.”
“You lead, and I’ll follow.” And I mean it for more than kayaking. With everything Bennett’s been through, he gets to set the tone for our interactions.
“Row on, deckhand.”
I scoff, acting offended. “Deckhand, really? Can’t I be the first mate at least?”
Bennett laughs. “I’ll decide when we’re done if you get a promotion.”
Proving to him I deserve a higher rank, I dig my oar into the water. “Oh, I will, Captain. Just wait and see.”
I’m rowing, but it feels harder and like we’re not going anywhere. Refusing to slack on my duties, I keep at it, though my shoulders are screaming at me to stop. The burn in my muscles increases with every attempted paddle. “Why is it not working?” I ask Bennett.
Turning over my shoulder, Bennett’s holding his paddle to his chest, grinning.
The jerk. “A little help?”
Laughing, he dips his oar into the water, and we make decent headway around the island. One thing’s for certain: with Bennett around, this summer won’t be boring.