Chapter 10
TEN
JOE
Thursday, One Day Before the Summer Swap
When Joe arrived at the Hideaway early the next morning, Krista was already there.
The lake was still waking up. Early kayakers cut through the mist, but beyond them, the water held a hush, private and intimate.
And there, framed in golden morning light through the open doors, was Krista—leaning against the counter, hair loose, sun catching every strand, iced latte in one hand, her phone in the other.
She looked like she belonged to the light itself.
Joe swallowed, pulse hitching. Last night had been electric—the kiss, the teasing texts afterward. But he needed to be careful. Flirt, yes. Enjoy the Summer Swap challenge, yes. But get attached? No. That was off-limits.
He wasn’t looking for anything long-term. The last time he’d tried that, it had ended in guilt. It wasn’t his ex’s fault; he was always away traveling; his work came first.
But already, Krista was different. She didn’t need anyone to steady her; she was rooted and wild all at once, and entirely sure of who she was. And maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
He’d been in a lot of places, met a lot of people, but this—Krista in the morning light, framed by honeysuckle—was the kind of sight that could make a man forget where he was headed.
Joe cleared his throat and knocked on the bar top. “Morning.”
Krista looked up, meeting his gaze with that easy, knowing smile. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, teacher,” he said, grinning. “I was helping your grandfather split some wood.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Well, now I feel bad. I was going to give you detention.”
“Oh, you can still give me detention,” he said, voice low, teasing. “As long as I don’t have to serve it alone.”
Krista rolled her eyes, though the edge of her smile gave her away. “Let’s see how you do on your first lesson before I start handing out punishments.” She grabbed a paddle from the rack. “Ever been paddleboarding before?”
“No. Kayaked plenty. Surfed once,” he said. “Terrible at it.”
“Then you’re in luck,” Krista said, stepping past him toward the dock, voice lilting with mischief. “Because I’m an excellent teacher and you, sir, might have to teach some of our customers the basics.”
Joe told himself to focus. Not on how incredible she looked in her black bikini, not on the sunlight tracing every curve of her skin. Definitely not on imagining that same suit peeled off, her body damp from the lake. No, he needed to focus on the board and her instructions.
Krista led him to the small alcove beside the Hideaway, a boathouse tucked under a canopy of trees.
Paddleboards were stacked neatly, paddles and ankle leashes resting beside them.
The public beach was further down the lake, but here, the water felt private.
Meant only for Hideaway guests and now, just for them.
“Okay,” Krista said, kneeling to unstack a board. “These aren’t surfboards—they’re wider, more stable. If you fall, it’s completely your fault.”
“Good to know,” he said, grinning.
She pushed the board into the water, demonstrating how to kneel in the center and find the balance point. Joe followed her lead, setting the paddle across the board, stepping carefully into the cool lake. The water lapped against his calves, sunlight sparkling.
“Now kneel,” she said over her shoulder. “Once you’re steady, you can think about standing.”
“ Think being the operative word,” he muttered, lowering himself onto the board.
Krista laughed, light and teasing. “Eyes up, not down. Knees soft. Core tight. You’ve got this.”
He tried. Every time she glanced back at him, sunlight catching her hair just so, he lost track of the instructions. His board wobbled dangerously.
“Whoa—”
“Joe!” Her laugh rang out as he plunged sideways into the water.
He surfaced, sputtering, pushing his wet hair back. “I swear it moved on its own.”
“Sure it did.” She bent forward, offering him a hand. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s try that again.”
Her fingers brushed his, warm, steady. He let himself be pulled upright. Their hands lingered; then she cleared her throat.
This time, he balanced—barely. They paddled side by side, boards drifting in quiet rhythm, lake smooth around them, birds wheeling overhead.
“See?” Krista smiled. “You’re a natural. ”
“Only because I have a good teacher,” he said.
She dipped her paddle, lazy ripples spreading. “You say that now, but wait until we turn around.”
He glanced over his shoulder—and lost his balance. Boards shot out from under them; they fell together into the cool water, laughing, sputtering, arms wrapping around each other instinctively.
They surfaced together, her hand clutching his arm. Sunlight flashed off ripples, droplets clinging to her cheeks and shoulders.
“Well,” he gasped, “guess I’m not a natural after all.”
“You think?” she teased, pushing wet hair out of her face.
Their boards floated nearby, tethered to their ankles, bumping softly together. The world around them felt impossibly calm. His hand rested at her waist, fingers splayed over smooth skin. The kiss from the attic replayed in his head, the feel of her lips. He leaned in, drawn to her.
The kiss was soft, tasting faintly of lake water and sunlight. Then Krista sighed against his mouth, and something inside him just…broke open. The world fell away—no sound but the water lapping, no movement but the gentle drift of their bodies toward each other.
He deepened the kiss. His hand slid higher, tracing the curve of her back until his palm rested between her shoulder blades.
He drew back just enough to see her face—lashes wet, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy with wonder. The sun caught the drops on her skin, turning them to gold. She smiled.
Joe leaned in again, slower, surer. This kiss wasn’t urgent, or testing. It promised, steady and right, like the ending they hadn’t gotten in the attic. Even though he knew it was impossible, in that moment, Joe thought maybe he could stay here forever.
Until —
“Well, would you look at that!”
Joe froze. Krista pulled back, wide-eyed. Out on the lake, Mrs. Bishop and Mrs. C. came toward them in a bright yellow paddleboat, with enormous sunhats and matching sunglasses. They wore oversized orange life vests that made them look like a couple of tangerines.
“Morning, you two! Lovely day for a swim!” Mrs. C. waved cheerfully.
Mrs. Bishop grinned. “Or whatever it is you’re doing out there!”
“Kill me now,” Krista groaned, sinking further into the water.
Joe laughed. “Guess class is dismissed?”
As they paddled back, the laughter faded into something quieter. The water glimmered around them, sunlight dancing across the surface like nothing had changed—except everything had.
Krista led the way, her strokes smooth and sure. She glanced back, as if to make sure he was keeping up, with that small, knowing smile. Joe’s chest tightened in that strange, exhilarating way that felt like falling and flying all at once.
He’d come to Maple Falls for a story, something to capture in words and photography, before leaving it behind.
Not for this. Not for someone who made him forget the rest of the world existed.
Still, as he watched her glide across the lake, hair loose, sunlight curling around her, he knew that he was damn well going to enjoy every second of their Summer Swap.
The question was, after their lives merged and tangled together, would he be able to just walk away?