Page 53 of Marry Me Tomorrow
After the session ends, I tuck my rolled mat under my arm and grab Jenny’s mat with the other. Then I grab my water bottle and wait for her to gather her things. “Well, wifey, what do you say we head home?”
“I’d say I’m exhausted and that sounds wonderful.”
As we walk back to the house, the moon hangs low in the sky, it’s soft light illuminating the path ahead. The cool night air carries the faint hum of crickets and the rustle of leaves. Jenny walks beside me, her water bottle in one hand, her other hand occasionally brushing against mine.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” I say quietly.
She glances over at me, her smile small but genuine. “Thanks for letting me crash your yoga session, hubby.”
Her teasing tone makes me laugh. We arrive at the wraparound porch quickly. “Welcome home,” I say, holding the door open for her. As she steps inside, the warmth of our home wraps around us.
“Thank you.” Jenny gives me a quick smile, her eyes flickering with something I can’t quite place before she heads up the stairs.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like maybe, just maybe, the wall built up between us isn’t as impenetrable as it once seemed.
Chapter 22
Jenny
The next few days fly by in a blur of activity. New people check in to rental cabins, families line up for pontoon boats, and fishing gear flies off the shelves. I find myself constantly restocking the marina store, trying to keep up with the demand. The energy at the marina feels electric, alive with laughter, conversations, and the occasional bark of a dog trotting alongside its owners.
In my spare time, I’m painting and processing everything that I want this relationship between Trent and me to be while balancing it with what I know the relationship is and has to be. Some days are better than others, but both Trent and I are adjusting and finding a rhythm.
I haven’t seen Trent much, except in passing, because he’s been buried in maintenance work. Whether he’s repairing motors, replacing dock boards, or handling some plumbing issue in the cabins, he’s always on the move. I honestly don’t know how he managed to juggle all this before I came onboard. Greg’s marketing efforts have clearly paid off—this place is busier than I ever imagined a marina could be.
“Hey, Greg,” I call out one Thursday as he makes his way back into the lodge after his lunch break. The scent of fresh coffee wafts in with him, mingling with the faint tang of sunscreen from customers wandering around the store. “Bring any goodies from Holly?”
Greg pauses mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “How’d you know I was there?”
I lean on the counter, smirking. “I’m not blind, and you’re a man of habit. Every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday you go over to For the Love of Sugar to have lunch with Holly. Don’t even try to deny it.” My gaze drops to the paper bag in his hand. “But I just know this time you brought me something back in that bag of yours. Am I right?” I could really use one of Holly’s sweet treats with how exhausting this week has been so far.
Greg chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re scary accurate, you know that? I made one mention to Holly at how slammed we’ve been this week, and she loaded me up with treats to bring back for everyone.”
I beam and reach for the bag. “I could kiss her! Oh my gosh, let me see what she sent.”
The bag rustles as I dig through it, immediately pulling out two Sunrise Sin muffins. Their golden-brown tops glisten in the sunlight streaming through the lodge windows, and the smell of cinnamon sweetness makes my mouth water.
“I’m going to take one of these out to Trent,” I say. “He should be finishing up an oil change on one of our pontoons. Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”
“Sure thing,” Greg replies with a grin. “Trent would never turn down his favorite baked goods.”
Outside, the late spring air is warm but not stifling. A gentle breeze dances across the lake, carrying the crisp scent of pine and the occasional splash of water as boats pull in and out. The April sky is a perfect shade of blue, with only a few wisps of clouds scattered like paint strokes. I wave at some boat owners tinkering with their engines as I make my way down the dock.
“There you are!” I call out when I spot Trent wiping grease off his hands with a rag. “If we didn’t work together, I’d be worried about you. I haven’t seen you all week.”
He looks up, his face breaking into a smile that makes my heart skip. “Hey there, wifey. Everything okay?” His gaze shifts to my hand. “Wait—is that a Sunrise Sin muffin, or are my eyes deceiving me? I worked through lunch, and I’m starving!”
“I’d wondered if you’d eaten. I hadn’t seen you in the lodge today, so I wasn’t sure.” I hand him the muffin. He takes it eagerly, tearing into it with the enthusiasm of a kid.
I take a bite of my muffin as well, and the rich, sugary flavor melts on my tongue. Holly is literally the best baker I’ve ever known. These are to die for.
“Thanks,” Trent says around a mouthful of muffin. “That hit the spot.” His eyes flicker to my muffin, still mostly intact.
“Eyes off, mister,” I warn, holding it out of his reach. “If you want another, Greg has more in the lodge. But you’ll have to actually take a break to go get one.”
Trent rubs his chin slowly, his eyes clouding over as though he’s sifting through the pros and cons of what I just said.
“Is it really that hard to take a quick break?” I ask, tilting my head.
