907 For Keeps Way (Cherry Falls)

“Absolutely not.”

The water laps against the shore just a few feet away. The trees tower over the water, shading us as we drift closer to the bank.

“This is way better than anything we could’ve done in the gym today,” he says, his voice soft. “We’re living. Making memories. Having fun. Isn’t that what you really wanted?”

His eyes search mine in a way that takes my breath away. That is what I wanted, and the fact that he listened, that he heard that in whatever I rambled on about yesterday makes my insides warm.

“Well, yes,” I say. “But I do also want to get into shape.”

“First, I promise you’re going to feel that paddling in your shoulders tomorrow.”

“We barely did it.”

He grins. “Trust me. And, second, getting in shape doesn’t mean …” He looks at the sky. “People have this idea that getting in shape means fitting themselves, their bodies, into a certain box.” His gaze returns to mine. “If that’s your goal, we can do that. But being healthy and feeling powerful—which is sometimes a better definition of goals than getting in shape—doesn’t only have to take place in the gym, Kaylee.”

“Good. Because I hate it there.”

He chuckles. “So you’ve said.”

I raise my arm from the water, letting droplets run off my hand and splash into the lake. “But I’m not really loving this part of it either.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, hello,” I say, drawing a circle in the air around my face. “My mascara is smeared, I’m sure. My hair is plastered to my face. I don’t even want to talk about how my clothes are going to look all sucked against my body when we get out of here.”

His eyes narrow briefly—so briefly, in fact, that I think I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t staring at him as intently as I am.

I normally feel fidgety in situations like this. If I would’ve fallen out of a kayak with Derrick, I would’ve been so embarrassed. And I never, ever would’ve made him fall out of it on purpose.

Yet, I’m completely comfortable with Dane. It’s a little unnerving when he looks at me thoughtfully like he is now, but it’s not crawl-inside-myself-and-hide. I don’t fear what he’s thinking. I don’t expect judgment.

It’s a wild sensation that I need time to process.

He smiles at me.

I’ll need time away from him to process all of this.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks me.

I gulp. “Sure.”

“Your mascara is smeared.”

I rub my fingertips below my eyes as he watches me.

“Your hair is kind of stuck to your head,” he says, his lips twitching. “And your clothes will undoubtedly be stuck to your body when we get to shore.”

Shit.

“But,” he says, floating the tiniest bit closer to me, “you are absolutely gorgeous.”

My lips part in a mixture of surprise and disbelief. You are absolutely gorgeous.

My legs stop moving as if they, too, are shocked into a standstill.

Is Dane joking?

“Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to work with you,” he says softly.

It’s hard to hear him over the thundering of my heart.

I know what he’s getting at—or at least I think I do. Being presumptuous is a little dangerous. But I don’t know whether to lean into it or dance my way out of it.

“Because I’m a klutz?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Kaylee …”

“What?”

“Okay. I understand.”

He turns away from me, and I immediately regret going with dancing out of it rather than leaning into his words.

“Dane …”

He looks at me over his shoulder.

I sigh. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

My feet begin to swing back and forth under the water again as my senses come back to me.

“For the compliment,” I say. For saying I’m gorgeous, silly.

He grabs the side of the kayak and turns himself to face me again.

“You don’t take them well, do you?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“We are already in the water, and things are awkward,” he says, “so I’m going to be up front with you. And if you hate what I say, we can walk away and chalk it up to one memorable day on the lake.”

“Okay.”

I hold my breath.

“Kaylee, you’re beautiful,” he says. “I’ve been fascinated by you for years.”

What?

I grab the kayak too.

“When you came into the gym yesterday, I couldn’t believe it. And then I heard you’re divorced, and it felt like kismet.” He grins. “I keep waiting for you to show me that you aren’t the whole package like I think you are, but dammit, you keep proving my instincts right.”

I laugh. I don’t know what else to do.

“I’m sorry—did you just call me the whole package?” I ask.

He chuckles. “I shouldn’t have taken you on as a client myself, considering my attraction to you. But I went against my own rules, and here we are.” He flicks water toward me. “In a lake.”

I know he’s expecting me to say something. That’s the way conversations work. Someone speaks, and then someone volleys back. That’s fine, except that I don’t know what to say.