Chapter 1 More Honest, Not More Careful #4
Kit whispered, “Oh, she’s been up for hours.”
“Since five,” Poppy said from offscreen. “I had a vision.”
“Of course you did,” I said.
The camera flipped back to her face. “Listen. Rosewater’s Fourth bash is in three days, and it’s not just a party. It’s the first time half the lake is going to look at Brewster Bay after the investment and ask if this place is really back.”
The words landed.
Kit’s fingers found mine under the sheet.
Poppy kept going. “So we make sure the answer is yes before anyone asks. Deck lights. Pool lounge. Outdoor bar. Towels that don’t look like they died in 1998. Planters. Photo angles. Every guest who posts from Rosewater needs Brewster Bay looking irresistible in the background.”
“Bella will worship you,” I said.
“Bella already sent me measurements.” Poppy smiled sweetly. “Your mother understands me.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“That’s strategy.” She pointed at the screen. “And it’s not just the resort. It’s us.”
Kit’s hand tightened around mine.
“Define us,” I said.
Poppy’s expression softened without losing its spark.
“Visible on purpose. Not an announcement. Not a performance. Just not hiding. You with Kit. You with me. Luna helping with photos if she wants. Vina doing what Vina does to make a party feel like it has a pulse. The people who love this place looking like they love this place.”
I knew what she was saying. I also heard what she wasn’t saying yet.
Public enough for the lake to start connecting lines. Careful enough not to give the lake a script.
“You’ve thought about optics,” I said.
“Obviously. I’m adorable, not stupid.” Poppy leaned closer, her voice warmer now.
“Nash, I know your instinct is going to be to manage everyone into safety. That’s cute.
Also annoying. We’re already talking to each other.
We’re already choosing this. You don’t have to present us to the world like a legal defense. ”
Kit made a soft sound of agreement.
Poppy’s eyes flicked to her. “Back me up, Kit.”
“He needs to hear it from more than one woman.”
“I just heard it naked,” I said.
Poppy’s grin went wicked. “Then you were in the ideal learning environment.”
Kit laughed and bumped her shoulder into mine.
Poppy pointed at the screen again. “Here’s the practical. Kit, I need deck test shots this morning. Natural light first, then golden hour later if Bella gets the string lights secured. Nash, I need you to stop making that face.”
“What face?”
“The face of a man trying to figure out if courage can be scheduled in fifteen-minute blocks.” She tapped something offscreen. “It cannot. But the bar setup can, and I have notes.”
“You made notes on my bar?”
“I made notes on the emotional seduction profile of your entire resort.” Poppy lifted her chin. “July isn’t going to seduce itself.”
Kit lost it, laughing against my shoulder.
I couldn’t help smiling. Poppy was ridiculous. She was also exactly what the morning needed. Sunshine with a battle plan.
“What do you need from me?” I asked.
That question made both women go quiet for half a second.
Poppy’s smile came back softer. “Show up. Tell the truth with your face. Don’t act like loving us is a problem to solve.”
Kit kissed my shoulder, right where she’d bitten me earlier.
“I can do that,” I said.
Poppy studied me through the screen. “Good. Also, take care of our girl. She looks very satisfied, but hydration matters.”
“Poppy,” Kit said, laughing.
“What? I’m a supportive friend.”
“You’re a menace.”
“I contain multitudes.” Poppy blew a kiss at the screen. “I love you both. I’m texting the shot list, and no, Nash, you don’t get to ignore it because it has emojis.”
“I would never.”
“You absolutely would. Bye.”
The call ended.
The cabin felt quieter without her, but not calmer. Poppy had left energy behind, bright and fast and impossible to pretend wasn’t already moving through the day.
Kit set her phone on the nightstand and looked at me.
“So,” she said. “Still think you’re in charge of July?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I think Poppy is.”
“Also no.” Kit kissed me, slow enough to bring the bed back for one dangerous second. “We are. Together.”
The phone pinged with Poppy’s promised shot list.
Kit glanced at it and started laughing again. “She used flame emojis for the bar.”
“Of course she did.”
“We need to shower.”
I looked at the sheet, at the wrecked bed, at Kit’s messy hair and satisfied mouth. “Yeah.”
She swung one leg over me and stood, then looked back with a smile that made my pulse kick even after everything. “Come on, Brewster. Your public day is waiting.”
***
Showering with Kit did not save time.
I told myself it would. That was a lie. The second she stepped under the water with her back to my chest, her wet hair over one shoulder and her ass pressed against me, the morning tried to restart.
We didn’t let it go all the way there, mostly because my phone had started buzzing again and Bella had graduated from texts to actual calls, but we still took longer than two responsible adults should have.
By the time we made it out of the cabin, the morning had turned bright and loud.
Kit wore cutoff shorts and one of my Brewster Bay shirts with the sleeves rolled. It was too big on her, soft from too many washes, and it made her look like she belonged to the place beyond uniforms, beyond permission, like Brewster Bay had already learned her shape.
She caught me staring on the cabin steps.
“What?”
“It looks good on you.”
“Everything looks good on me.”
“True.”
She took my hand like we weren’t stepping out of a bed that still smelled like us and into a resort full of people with eyes. Like this was normal. Like she had decided normal was whatever we were brave enough to do twice.
Bella was halfway up the path from the lodge with a clipboard in one hand and her phone in the other. She spotted us, stopped, and took in our joined hands, Kit’s shirt, my still-damp hair, and whatever else was written all over our faces.
“There you are,” Mom said.
“Morning.”
“It’s nearly eleven.”
“Still morning.”
Kit smiled. “Hi, Bella.”
Mom’s expression warmed. “Hi, honey. Sleep well?”
Kit did not even blink. “Extremely.”
I coughed.
Bella’s eyes danced, but she showed mercy. “Good. I need both of you.”
“Both of us?” I asked.
“Poppy says Kit has the eye for deck shots, and I’m not arguing with that girl before coffee wears off.
” Bella handed me the clipboard. “The lights are mostly up. The pool lounge delivery arrived. The outdoor bar needs final placement before they stock it. Also, whoever shipped the towels sent beige instead of navy, which is an act of violence.”
Kit made a face. “Beige lake towels?”
“Exactly,” Bella said, pleased to have been understood. “Thank you.”
We walked toward the main deck together.
Brewster Bay opened around us in full July motion.
Workers were stringing lights along the rail.
New lounge chairs sat wrapped in plastic near the pool.
Planters bursting with red, white, and blue flowers lined the path to the bar.
The lake flashed bright beyond it all, busy with boats and docks and distant voices.
It looked alive.
Not fixed. Not finished. Alive.
Kit slipped her hand from mine only when we reached the deck, then rose on her toes and kissed me in front of my mother, two delivery guys, and half the staff moving pool furniture.
It was quick. Warm. Certain.
Nobody gasped. Nobody dropped a chair. Bella checked something on her clipboard, mouth twitching like she’d decided not to comment.
Kit pulled back and patted my chest. “Go be useful. I’ll take Poppy’s photos.”
“You’re bossy today.”
“I was bossy in bed too. You survived.”
One of the delivery guys suddenly became very interested in a wrapped lounge chair.
Bella cleared her throat. “Kit, sweetheart, the best angle is probably from the west side of the pool. Nash, bar.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.