Chapter 2
Paisley
I’m a walking disaster.
Today is just one giant clusterfuck. My hair is on the fritz. I got lost and had to ask for directions, not once but twice! I forgot my sunscreen and I’m already halfway to a sunburn.
And to top it all off, I hit the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met in the face with a kayak paddle.
I think I broke his nose.
“I’m so so so sorry,” I repeat for the third time.
“It’s fine,” he waves me off with a grin.
His nose is still bleeding but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. He’s wearing one of the orange Johnson River Adventures T-shirts that all the guides wear, a pair of blue swim trunks, and matching flip flops.
Another guide slaps a towel against his chest, and mutters something about him scaring the little kids. Considering the matching dark brown hair, green eyes, and the tiny ‘J’ tattooed on their wrists I’d bet my ass that they’re brothers.
I’ve only been in Crescent Ridge for a day, but it seems like the type of small town where a family-owned business would thrive.
“Starting the day off a little spicy, aren’t we?” A man with his dark brown hair twisted into a bun asks. I recognize him as one of the twins who checked me in for the beginner tour.
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” the man with the bloody nose interrupts me. “Accidents happen. I’m alright and it’s best that this happened to me instead of one of the others.”
I glance at my group. I’m the only solo kayaker and there are several small children with their families. My face pales at the thought that I could’ve hit one of them instead.
“You’re right,” I whisper.
“Don’t worry, Paddles. I’ll keep you out of trouble,” he says with a wink.
He drops into a green kayak still grinning.
“Shouldn’t he go see a doctor?” I ask the twin.
“Nah. Dean’ll be all right. We played rougher when we were kids,” he replies. “Wouldn’t be his first broken nose.”
I nod. Maybe this is a commonplace experience for people who grow up with siblings. As an only child, I wouldn’t know.
“I’m Dylan by the way. Duke’s my twin and Dean’s our little brother.”
“Paisley Shaw,” I reply automatically. “Nice to meet you.”
“You can meet the rest of our family when you get back,” he adds with a bright grin that highlights his dimples.
I nod again. The website where I registered compared this to a summer camp experience. I’m sure there’s going to be souvenir photos and possibly a cheesy campfire song before we all head our separate ways. I assume that’s where I’ll meet the rest of the Johnson family.
The rest of my group are scrambling into kayaks and I rush to join them. The pink kayak wobbles when I climb inside, listing wildly to one side and then the other.
“Easy, Paddles.”
I blame the sun for the ridiculous way my face warms at the sound of his voice. Dean grabs my flailing paddle with one hand and with the other he steadies my kayak.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Dylan,” he calls out to his brother. “You’re on point today.”
Dylan raises an eyebrow, but Dean ignores him. The grin Dylan sends his brother could only be described as obnoxious.
"Sure thing Bro-bear," he says.
The other kayakers begin paddling toward the center of the river. I try to follow them and immediately spin sideways.
"Oh no."
My paddle smacks the surface of the water with all the grace of a falling tree and the kayak spins faster.
"Well, fuck,” I mutter to myself.
A few of the children giggle. Wonderful. I've become their entertainment. Bet their parents love that.
The river looked calm from the shore. Sitting in a tiny plastic boat on top of it is a completely different experience. Water laps against the sides of my kayak and every little movement sends me wobbling.
"Relax, Paddles."
I look up. He's somehow maneuvered his kayak next to mine without making a single splash.
Show off.
"I'm totally relaxed,” I lie.
His gaze drops to where I'm white-knuckling the paddle’s rubber hand grip.
"Sure, you are."
The heat crawling up my neck has nothing to do with the sun.
"I'm trying not to fall in," I confess.
"I'll let you in on a secret," he says as he leans across his kayak and braces a hand against the side of mine to steady it. The movement pulls his T-shirt tight across his shoulders and chest.
My traitorous eyes linger.
"Everybody falls in eventually."
Easy for him to say. The man glides smoothly through the water like he was born for this.
A droplet of blood appears beneath his nose and my stomach twists into a knot.
"You're still bleeding," I whisper.
His hand immediately flies to his face.
"It's fine."
"It is not fine."
"It's just a nosebleed," he says dismissively.
"That I caused!"
He grins. Actually grins. Like he thinks his injury is funny.
"I think I hit your head harder than I thought."
His grin widens. The jerk is enjoying this.
The current nudges our kayaks downstream. Sunlight dances across the surface of the water and ahead, Dylan is explaining basic paddle techniques to the group while Dean completely ignores his responsibilities.
Or maybe he delegated them.
Either way, he hasn't moved more than a few feet away from me, and it’s making it hard for me to focus.
"Tell me something, Paddles."
I groan.
"My name is Paisley.”
“Pretty name for a pretty woman.”
The compliment catches me off guard. Heat creeps into my cheeks, and suddenly the river feels ten degrees warmer. His grin is warm and easy, and entirely too distracting.
Before I can think of a response, he asks, "Why Crescent Ridge?"
I dip my paddle into the water and immediately splash myself. Perfect. Could I be any more pathetic?
"I’m on vacation."
"From where?"
"Denver."
My co-workers scoffed when I told them where I was going for vacation. Crescent Ridge is only a few hours away and they all tried to argue that I should pick a different destination. They use their personal time for cruises and trips to tropical paradises.
"Yeah. That'll do it."
For some reason, the simple understanding in his voice makes my chest squeeze.
Everyone asked why I'd drive halfway across the state to spend a long weekend in the mountains. Why I'd choose a tiny town with spotty cell service over a beach resort or a luxury hotel.
The answer is simple.
I came to Crescent Ridge because I needed a break. A real one. Not the kind where you sit in a hotel room scrolling through emails. I wanted fresh air.
I needed to escape the endless traffic. The blaring sirens. Construction crews that started work before sunrise. Apartment walls so thin I could hear my neighbors arguing over whose turn it was to buy toilet paper. Everywhere I went there were crowds, noise, and people demanding my attention.
Here, the loudest thing around is the river lapping at the bank on either side of us.
By miracle or magic I make it to the first rest spot an hour later without injuring anyone else.
A stretch of sandy shoreline spreads out beneath a canopy of towering trees, the branches twisting overhead to block out the worst of the afternoon sun. The air smells cleaner here. Like wet stone, pine trees, and the scent of fresh water rushing over rocks.
After an hour in the kayak, the muscles in my arms are officially protesting. My shoulders ache, my palms are sore, and my legs are stiff from sitting in the same position.
But somehow, I’m smiling.
A few days ago, I was surrounded by honking cars and people squeezing past me on crowded sidewalks. Today, I’m sitting on a river in the middle of the mountains, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.
The kayaks bump softly against the shore as everyone climbs out. Parents pull out coolers and bags of snacks. Kids immediately dive into the water, ignoring every warning about staying where their parents can see them.
I stay near my kayak, stretching my arms above my head until my shoulders pop.
"How are you holding up, Paddles?"
I turn to find Dean standing beside me. He’s dripping wet from swimming with the kids and somehow, after spending the last hour baking under the summer sun, he still looks unfairly good.
His dark hair is damp with loose strands falling over his forehead.
His orange Johnson River Adventures shirt is slightly darker from the water, and it clings to his shoulders.
A few drops slide from his jawline to his neck, and I immediately decide looking anywhere else would probably be the safer choice.
For everyone involved.
The fabric clings to his chest, outlining muscles that have no business being that distracting while I'm standing next to a bunch of children eating granola bars.
Water drips from his hair to slide down his neck.
I should look away, but instead I follow that drop.
"Enjoying the show?"
My eyes snap back to his face.
Damn it.
He caught me.
"I was just—"
"Admiring the weather?"
"Exactly."
His laugh rolls over the river, warm and effortless.
"You're terrible at lying, Paddles."
A kid runs past us, splashing water everywhere. The cold water against my skin makes me gasp, and then I laugh. The kind of laugh that makes my stomach hurt.
And when I look at Dean, he's smiling at me like my happiness brings him joy.
The Etowah rushes past us, sparkling beneath the afternoon sun. Light dances across the surface, breaking into a thousand tiny flashes every time the current moves over the submerged rocks. The mountains rise around us, green and towering, making me feel impossibly small in the best way.
Dean watches me for a moment.
I suddenly become aware of everything.
The damp strands of hair sticking to my neck. The river water soaking through my shorts. The way my skin is still slightly red, despite borrowing some sunscreen from one of the moms.
A week ago, I would've hated feeling this messy. I would've been worried about how I looked or whether someone noticed.
Right now?
I don't care.
"You’re different out here," he says.
I tilt my head.
"What does that mean?"
His shoulders lift in a small shrug.
"You were nervous this morning."
"Because I almost killed you with a paddle."
His grin appears immediately.
"True."
I roll my eyes, but I can't stop smiling. Dean looks back toward the river.
"Most people come here looking for something."
I glance at him.
"What do you mean?"
"They come to escape the drudgery. To have an adventure. A story to tell when they go home. They rush through life like they’ll get a medal for finishing first."
The tourists who came with us this morning will take pictures. They'll buy souvenirs. They'll tell their friends they went rafting in Crescent Ridge.
But will they notice the way sunlight turns the river gold?
Will they feel the way the cold water wraps around their legs and makes them forget everything waiting for them back home?
I don't know if they will, but I do.
"Do you ever want to leave?" I ask.
The question slips out before I can stop it.
"No."
His answer is quick, but not defensive.
"No?"
He shakes his head.
"I know that's weird. Most people can't wait to get out of a small town."
His gaze moves over the river, the trees, the mountains surrounding us.
"But this place..." He pauses. "This place will always be my home."
"You really love it here."
His eyes return to mine.
"Yeah."
It’s such a simple and honest answer.
A breeze moves through the trees, rustling the leaves above us. The sunlight warms my damp skin, but my attention stays fixed on the man standing next to me.
Dean steps closer. The movement is subtle, careful in a way. Like he's giving me every chance to pull away but I don't want to.
"Paisley."
The way he says my name makes something flutter low in my stomach. I almost tell him to call me ‘Paddles’ instead. No one’s ever given me a nickname before and I like the way he teases me.
His warm green eyes drop to my lips, then flick back to mine.
"Can I kiss you?"
Maybe I should hesitate. Maybe I should remember that I met this man this morning. Or maybe I should point out that this is insane.
But when I look at Dean, I don't see a stranger.
I see the man who caught my kayak before I tipped over. The man who made me laugh when I wanted to crawl into a hole out of embarrassment.
So, I nod.
His hand lifts slowly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my face, fingers lingering for half a second. His fingertips barely graze my skin, but the touch sends a shiver through me.
Maybe it's the cold water dripping from my clothes. Or maybe it's the fact that a man I met less than a day ago is looking at me like I'm the only woman in the world.
Then his lips touch mine.
Soft and sweet, like he's giving me time to change my mind. The second I lean into him, something restless inside me settles.
The whole world continues exactly as it was before. Water rushes over rocks. Kids laugh somewhere down the shoreline.
Except everything feels different.
Dean's hand slides to my waist, steady and warm even through my damp clothes. His thumb brushes against my side, and my fingers curl around the front of his soaked T-shirt without thinking.
The fabric is cool beneath my hands.
I didn't expect to meet someone like him. Someone who slows my world down to just the pulse of a single heartbeat. Time stretches in this second until I feel like our kiss will never end. And truth be told, I don’t want it to.
When he finally pulls back, I have to remember how to breathe.
His forehead rests against mine as a wry smile tugs at his mouth.
"Still think I'm crazy for letting you near the kayaks?"
I laugh softly.
“Absolutely.”