Chapter Twelve #2
“So am I.” She inhaled sharply, ready to pivot before any tears showed up. There had been an opening for him to say his life was actually flexible enough to give it a shot. He hadn’t said it. “Now grab that TV and let’s go before they send out a search party.”
* * *
After depositing the extremely heavy television on the side of the trail where they could pick it up on the way back through, Danny reached out and snagged Kenzie’s hand.
She threaded her fingers through his and they held hands almost all the way back, until they reached the final corner.
Once they rounded it, everybody would be able to see them.
Kenzie squeezed his hand before releasing it, and he couldn’t help giving it one more shot. “Are you really sure, or just a little bit sure?”
She gave him one of the saddest smiles he’d ever seen. “I’m pretty sure, Danny.”
Rejoining the others and pretending he hadn’t just had his entire world rocked by a single kiss wasn’t easy, but he did it. Not only did he not want to hear any comments from his brother, but he didn’t want to make any of this harder on Kenzie.
Once they’d cleared the trees enough to open the trail—though somebody would have to return later with more serious equipment to remove the logs they’d dragged off to the side—they started back.
They kept up a faster pace on the return, not only because they’d already picked up the litter and only stopped to grab the TV, but because they were starving and the ATV club was hosting a cookout at the snowmobile’s clubhouse.
They tossed the garbage they’d collected into the back of the ten-wheeler holding the bags picked up by the other volunteers and immediately joined the line to grab burgers and dogs as they came off the grill.
Careful to resist the urge to look around and see what Kenzie was doing, Danny made up his burger and grabbed some of the macaroni salad and chips set out on a long folding table.
After choosing a painfully cold cola from the plastic barrel filled with cans and ice, he took a spot at an empty picnic table.
He assumed Rob and Hannah would join him, but it was Frank who approached, throwing one leg over the picnic table and then the other before settling onto it with a groan. “Nothing like sitting on a two-by-six after a hard day’s work.”
And there was nothing like trying to eat a burger while sitting eye to eye with a man whose daughter you just kissed in the woods. Not that Frank had any say in the matter, really, but Danny would rather have talked to almost anyone else.
“It must feel good to have a day off,” he finally said, because he had to say something.
Frank blew out a breath. “You have no idea.”
“A lot of non-chain restaurants in my area are closed Mondays and Tuesdays, or Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Gives them all some time off, and weekends can be when you make them, I guess.”
“I’ve thought about closing on Tuesdays,” Frank said after swallowing the bite of hot dog he’d taken.
“On Monday mornings, we tend to catch a lot of ATVers and snowmobilers who extended their weekends to avoid the regular tourist traffic. We do almost as well on Thursdays as we do Fridays during the two seasons.”
“It doesn’t seem like much happens on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, then.
” Danny took a huge bite of his burger, telling himself to shut up.
The operating hours of Corinne’s Kitchen weren’t his business, and he didn’t think Kenzie having a “weekend” off in the middle of the week would change her mind about them.
“Not with the tourists, but a lot of our retired locals like to gather together during the week when it’s quiet.” Frank shrugged. “And it’s not like there’s much else to do. May as well be making money as sitting around doing nothing, right?”
It was definitely not his place to point out Frank’s daughter might like to have some free time and maybe make a life outside of the restaurant, so he just nodded, and as soon as he swallowed the burger, he took another bite.
Relief surged through him when Rob and Hannah joined them. Hannah picked Danny’s side of the table, while Rob sat across from him, next to Frank. It made sense he’d look for Kenzie at that point, so Danny allowed his gaze to roam until he found her.
She was leaning against the wall of the clubhouse, her feet crossed at the ankles, while she picked at her food and talked to another woman. Her body was angled away from him, meaning the chance she’d turn her head and catch him watching her was slim, so he let himself look.
She’d been waiting for him to kiss her.
He wanted to kiss her again.
So why was that such an unsolvable problem?
Danny finished the last bite of his burger and turned his attention to the macaroni salad.
Rob and Frank were having a conversation about the ATV club’s Fourth of July plans, which wouldn’t include Danny, so he didn’t feel a need to pay attention.
And Hannah was texting with somebody, so his mind was free to wander.
The obvious solution to their problem was Danny rearranging his life to be close to Kenzie. He knew that, but he couldn’t imagine what that would look like.
Maybe someday, down the road when they’d figured out if what they felt was the real deal, it looked like him selling the house he loved like it was a part of himself and buying a house up here.
And because he knew Kenzie wouldn’t give up the restaurant and there were very few day care options in the area, he knew if they did have kids, he was going to juggle being a full-time author and practically full-time stay-at-home dad.
Logically, he knew a lot of people made that work. He couldn’t even count the number of authors he’d heard talk about fitting their writing time around raising kids. It was possible.
What he couldn’t see was how they got there.
Nobody in their right mind would sell off their property and relocate to a very small town with few amenities, upending their work process, for a person they’d kissed once.
And even if he stayed at the campground for the entire season to be closer to her, where would that get them?
Going for walks and chatting with her at the restaurant in between customers made him happy, but how would they get the time and privacy to really get to know each other?
There would be no romantic getaways. Hell, he wasn’t even sure they could manage a sleepover without her father or his brother in the next room.
By the time the campground closed for the winter, would they be any closer to knowing they were a forever kind of thing?
Maybe Kenzie was right, and it wasn’t possible for them to be more than friends.
The crack of plastic and scrape of the ragged edge against his skin—along with Hannah’s startled sound—alerted him to the fact he’d just snapped his plastic fork in half.
“Danny, you good?” Rob asked, looking at him with concern.
“Yeah.” He tried to laugh it off, but the sound was rough and didn’t quite land. “Cheap fork, I guess.”
Rob nodded, and then gave Hannah one of those undecipherable looks like the ones that often passed between his parents.
She pushed herself to her feet with a groan. “We should head back, anyway. I’m beat, and this picnic table’s doing me no favors.”
Danny knew they were leaving because Rob sensed his brother’s vibe had changed, though he might not know why.
Maybe he should have told them to stay and found Hannah a better chair, but he wasn’t going to be able to snap out of it while he could still see Kenzie.
Every time she moved, it drew his attention, and then he’d remember the feel of her straining against him.
Instead, he’d hit the shower and open his laptop so he could pour all of his frustration and needs into beefing up the ending of his book until he was sure that, love the twist or hate it, readers wouldn’t be able to put it down.
That, at least, was a problem he could solve.