7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Gina
I’m up with the sun, quietly tucking the sofa bed away and placing my folded blankets in the basket on the floor like I have every morning since Diana pointed out that Milo and I should be living together.
He doesn’t fit on the sofa bed, and he tends to stay up late and sleep in, so there’s always a chance Diana will come by before he’s up.
It makes sense to have him take my bed and for me to sleep on the sofa bed.
It’s reasonably comfortable, at least. My back hardly hurts most mornings.
I drink my coffee, listening to the sounds of the birds. Milo didn’t have much to say to me last night. He’s still mad. I’m still deeply unhappy.
Benji is leaving today. There should be enough time before he leaves to start filing for divorce.
I looked it up yesterday, and if we file jointly, we can submit an e-file, saving time.
It should only take a few weeks since we don’t have children or joint property.
This little fuck up of mine isn’t terminal.
I should be happy. Relieved.
I set my empty coffee cup in the sink and drop my head into my hands. I don’t want him to leave. I barely know him. I can’t remember most of that night, but it feels like if he leaves, he’ll be taking some part of me I don’t even know with him.
But I can’t have him hanging around for the summer while I try to pull off this thing with Milo. I’m not good at lying, and adding a fake second cousin complicates everything.
If only Diana would sell Happy Lake to me and Milo without requiring us to marry.
Family has always been the heart of the lodge, and I know Diana misses Kenneth terribly, but friendship can be just as strong, just as committed.
When I broke my arm trying to get a kite out of a tree for a young camper, Milo cooked and cleaned for me for six weeks without complaint.
He picked up all the jobs I couldn’t do and made sure I was comfortable.
When I didn’t have the money to help my mom cover her rent, he stepped in.
We complement each other, and since he came back, he’s been there for me anytime I needed a shoulder to cry on or a hand to help.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. We are committed to each other.
Maybe we gave in too quickly.
Wishing isn’t going to change anything, so with a sigh, I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and get dressed for the day in a clean Happy Lake Lodge T-shirt and shorts.
It’s still my weekend—Milo and I have Mondays and Tuesdays off together—but the person Diana hired to work full time over the summer had a change of heart, which means no more days off for us until we hire someone.
The braid I put my hair into before bed last night is still mostly intact, so I slip my shoes on and head out the door to say goodbye to the man I married.
Benji is so young and handsome. What does he want with someone like me? Why does he make my heart flutter like new leaves in a breeze, or my stomach swoop like a dragonfly over the lake? Why him? Why now ?
Fate, my mom would tell me. But that feels like a convenient excuse to interpret something any way you want, thus excusing yourself from all responsibility.
After all, fate sent her off to California when I turned ten.
Fate is why she was fired from her last steady job.
It’s why she’s chasing this jewelry-making side hustle.
It’s probably why she forgot to pay her electricity bill last month.
Benji isn’t fate. He’s a mistake I need to fix. I’m sure he’s wonderful, but he’s not for me. I’m not for him. He’s young—he has lots more magical nights ahead of him. He’ll bounce back and be glad I cut him loose.
Milo’s counting on me. Happy Lake is at stake. So I’ll stuff all those wishes deep down and do what I have to do, and when I get sad thinking about those blue-green eyes, I’ll have Happy Lake to console me.
The trail between my cabin and the lodge is well-worn, skirting along the lake, dipping into the forest to avoid a rocky promontory, then returning to the lake, passing by Diana’s cabin.
When Diana retires and moves to Florida in the fall with her friend Sue, Milo and I will move in to be closer to the lodge.
Her cabin has two bedrooms, so my nights on the sofa bed will be over.
I bypass the lodge, heading for cabin six. When I get there, Clay’s red car is gone. I knock at the door, but there’s no answer.
Did Benji leave without saying goodbye?
My stomach sinks. I’m not disappointed. Certainly not sad. It’s just that this will make it difficult to track him down for a divorce. That’s all.
I trudge back to the lodge, hands in my pockets, trying to convince myself that this is for the best.
The bell tinkles as I walk through the door, a good morning dying on my lips.
Benji is behind the café counter, walking Diana through the process of making Pamela’s vanilla latte. Pamela and Joelle see me first and wave me over.
“Your second cousin is gorgeous,” Pamela says, sotto voce.
Benji glances up, smiling when he sees me, and goes back to talking Diana through tamping down the espresso.
Until now, she’s flat-out refused to use Milo’s espresso machine. Her fear that it will explode and scald her is almost comical for someone who can cook a variety of food in a pressure cooker without batting an eyelash.
Happy Lake Lodge’s little café is tiny. Typically, we served guests drip coffee, water, and lemonade, all for free.
Diana bakes cookies or muffins and leaves them out when she feels like it.
On weekends, she offers sandwiches and salads in a picnic hamper for people planning a day out on the trails or lake, so long as they speak to her about it the day before.
Milo wants to expand to include fresh fruit ice cream in the summer and various hot and iced coffees year-round.
But buying the equipment—without talking to her first—didn’t have the intended effect of showing his grandmother that he’s responsible.
Instead, she thinks he’s impulsive. Which is the real reason she’s reluctant to use it.
“Have you worked as a barista before?” I ask Benji as Diana carefully froths the milk.
“I have,” he answers me. “I make a better coffee than I do a Shirley Temple.”
The ring on his left hand glints in the morning light.
Have I ever found hands sexy before? Or wrists?
Forearms, yes, and his are perfection, all rippling muscle over tanned smooth skin dusted lightly with golden hair.
But when I look at those long, dexterous fingers, I can feel his touch from last night brushing over the shell of my ear, drifting against my cheek.
How would they feel tangled in my hair or against my lips?
If I took the tip of one of those fingers in my mouth, would his eyes go hooded? Would he moan?
Fire rushes over my face, and I tug on my shirt collar. What the hell has gotten into me?
Pamela and Joelle, thankfully, overlook my existential crisis. They’re too busy ogling my—my—
Second cousin. I won’t think of him as my husband. I don’t have a right to after asking for a divorce.
Briar joins us, wearing a Happy Lake Lodge T-shirt. She smiles warmly at me, and I smile back, but why is she wearing a staff shirt?
Diana finishes pouring the frothed milk and hands it to Pamela. “I’ve asked Benji and Briar to work for the summer,” she says to me. “They’ve both got customer service experience and better skills in that area than some .”
Milo. She means Milo, but I can’t think about that as something cold runs down my spine, and all the warm, fuzzy feelings I got from watching Benji work are gone.
Diana might have bought the story about Benji being my second cousin, but if he’s working with us, that gives her an entire summer to poke holes in our little lie.
Milo is going to flip.
“They’re happy to work part-time,” Diana continues, “to fill the gap Stephanie left when she decided to spend the summer in Europe instead. So we won’t be short-staffed anymore.”
“Where will they stay?” God, please not with Diana—but where else?
“Milo’s empty RV,” Briar says with a smile.
Stupid, red-hot jealousy nips at my stomach. Milo’s RV is reasonably big but only has one bed. “What about Clay? Did he leave?”
“He said he had some business in Minneapolis,” Benji shrugs. “He thought he’d be back by the end of the week, but he’ll do his own thing.”
“Why don’t you take Benji to the office,” Diana suggests, “find him a shirt and show him the jobs he’ll be expected to do outside while I teach Briar the front desk. We’ll switch after lunch.”
He might not want to stay once he sees what the job entails. Scrubbing toilets, mowing the lawns, and delivering firewood isn’t fun.
Benji follows me without a word. The office is small, consisting of a desk, a row of file cabinets, and a wall of shelves. I can’t close the door without arousing suspicions, so I step close enough to him to hiss, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I want to get to know my wife better,” he says. His voice is quiet but still feels too loud for those words . “Don’t you want to get to know me better, too?”
“Yes, but—” Ugh, we can’t have this conversation here where someone can overhear, so I whirl around and march over to rummage through the box of Happy Lake T-shirts. “Here.” I hand him a blue one with the lodge logo screen printed across the front. “Try this on.”
Instead of taking the proffered T-shirt into the men’s room to change, Benji’s arms flex as he reaches over his head to grab the back of his shirt. It happens slowly, the hem rising to reveal smooth, tanned ab after smooth, tanned ab as he pulls it over his head.
My breath catches.
I saw him shirtless that morning in Vegas and in so many photos. But he’s here, close enough to touch.
He drops the shirt onto the desk, and I quickly turn my back to him, closing my eyes as an added layer of security.
Heat warms my shoulders as he leans into my space. When he speaks, his breath ghosts against my ear. “My wife can look at me if she wants.”
I squeeze my eyes tighter and hold my breath because he smells so good.
Whatever he’s wearing—if he’s wearing any scent at all—is so light that the temptation to press my nose against the warm skin of his neck just to tell if it’s more citrus or herbal or woodsy is almost stronger than my restraint.
My wife can look at me if she wants.
Oh, she wants to. A drop of sweat rolls down my sternum, and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat before I can say, “Your second cousin isn’t going to.”
His breath tickles along my neck. “We’re alone.”
I shiver at those words. Yup. Alone. Nothing to stop me from turning around and stepping closer. Nothing to stop him from kissing me because I won’t stop him. And I’ll lose everything. “Better to assume you’re never alone at Happy Lake. Or in Havenwood.”
He takes a step back, taking the warmth with him. “Turn around. What do you think?”
I turn. I should’ve given him a bigger size. The one he’s wearing isn’t tight, but it’s close. “Better take another one.” I grab the stack of his size and hold them out. “You’ll need it.”
He picks the green. His smile tells me he chose it because it’s my favorite color.