Chapter 9 The Wrong Secret #4
Luna stood beside Dad at the open gear compartment with the inventory sheet braced against one knee.
"Two jackets need stitching before they return to service," she said. "The wear was already there, and Bristol caught it before use. One trainer binding needs tightening. Fuel burn came in below estimate because Sam kept the starts controlled."
Dad looked toward Sam. "Good driving."
"Thanks, Frank."
Sally smiled at him like she'd received the compliment herself.
Dad turned back to Luna. "And good work from you. This ran clean."
Luna accepted that with a nod.
"We had a good team."
"You did," Dad said. "The trial worked."
"Your mom and I need the feedback," Dad continued. "James and Tina need the gear wear. We need staffing, fuel, food, and what guests say after the adrenaline wears off. Then we decide whether another trial makes sense."
"No permanent program," James added. "No repeat date until all four of us look at the same numbers."
Luna glanced at me.
I nodded. "That's fair."
"It is," she said. "Brewster Bay keeps the guest feedback. Rosewater handles the gear report."
"Bossy," I said.
She bumped her hip against mine. "You like me bossy."
"I love you bossy."
The brief warmth in her eyes belonged to me. Then she handed Dad the clipboard and helped Bristol with the last trainer.
Kit set the feedback cards inside the lodge, came back, and wrapped both arms around my waist.
"You and Luna built a good day," she said.
"All of us did."
"I know." She kissed me slowly enough that my hands forgot the wet rope I was supposed to pick up. "Still proud of you, baby."
"Thanks, Trouble."
She smiled against my mouth, patted my ass, and returned to the cards.
Poppy set an empty tray on the towel bin and slipped behind me, arms around my waist and cheek between my shoulder blades.
"Big Papa says these go to the kitchen," she said. "I say I deserve thirty seconds of boyfriend first."
I turned and kissed her forehead. "Take sixty, Sugar Pop."
She kissed my lips, sweet and quick, then grabbed the tray and skipped toward the lodge.
Vina passed with the speaker cord over one shoulder and a cooler in her free hand. She kissed me and pushed the handle against my leg.
"Carry that, Smoke Show. Your girlfriend has delicate musical hands."
"I'll buy you a drink when the gear's done, Lips."
"Now you're learning."
Lucy took the other cooler, bumped my shoulder, and let her hand slide down my arm. "I like those muscles functional, Coach. Keep up."
We carried the coolers to the temporary bar. On the way back, I saw Sally sitting on the edge of the dock while Sam rinsed lake water from his arms with the hose. She wiped sunscreen from his jaw with her thumb.
He caught her wrist, kissed her palm, and said something I couldn't hear.
She kissed him before he finished.
Mom slowed beside them with folded towels.
"Well," she said. "That explains a few things."
Sally went pink. "Are you mad?"
"No, honey." Mom kissed her head and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "I'm wondering how Nash missed it with both eyes open."
"Mom."
Sam laughed into Sally's hair.
Dad found their joined hands, studied Sam for one quiet beat, then tipped his chin toward the remaining ropes.
"Drying rack before dinner."
"Yes, sir," Sam said.
Dad returned to the gear.
Sally smiled so widely she had to bite her lower lip to contain it.
The last borrowed jacket went onto the rack.
The last rope settled into its labeled bin.
James tied the Rosewater boat at the guest slip, ready for the morning return after the gear dried.
Tina went inside with Mom. Dad followed them carrying the feedback box.
Sam and Sally took the final towel cart up the path together, their shoulders touching.
The others drifted toward the lodge. Poppy laughed while Vina argued that musicians deserved first access to dinner. Lucy held the door. Luna and James stayed for one last fuel check.
Bristol remained at the end of the dock.
She had changed out of her damp safety layer but still wore the dark emerald suit beneath open shorts. Her hair had dried in loose waves down her back. She waited until the louder voices moved inside, then crossed the dock toward me.
She took my hand.
Her fingers threaded through mine slowly, deliberate as every choice Bristol made. The dock noise fell behind the pulse I could feel where our palms met.
"Monday's still mine," she said.
"I'd be crazy to forget."
Her thumb moved once over my knuckles.
"I spent all day watching you give people what they needed without making them feel small for needing it." She held my gaze. "Tomorrow, I want you steady and all in. No fireworks. No crowd. No rushing because everybody else is waiting."
I turned our joined hands and tightened my fingers around hers.
"I've been looking forward to it all day, Bristol. Tomorrow, you get every minute of me."
Her shoulders eased.
"Good."
She kept holding my hand while Poppy called that dinner was dying.
Bristol's mouth curved.
"Go save dinner, Brewster."
"Come with me."
"In a minute."
Her fingers left mine one at a time.
Monday was still too far away.