Page 115 of That Rush

“You’re speaking for her.”

“You’re right. I’ll ask her.” I glance toward the house. “I’m confident she’ll say yes to the cabin, the trail, and unlimited access to your books.”

“Confident is acceptable. Deciding isn’t.”

“Understood.”

Paige smiles. “Next Friday, then.”

After one last kiss, she gets into her SUV.

I stand in the driveway until her taillights disappear. Paige has protected her cabin from every expectation I brought to her door. Now she has invited my daughter into the quietest, most private part of her life.

Next Friday, I’ll bring Josie to Paige’s cabin. One chosen night. It will be enough.

Chapter 16

Paige

Aiden arrives with one overnight bag, one cooler, and a six-year-old wearing a purple backpack large enough to support a three-week expedition.

Josie jumps out of his truck and runs toward the porch, Sprinkle the stuffed horse tucked beneath one arm and two books clutched under the other.

“I brought pajamas, a toothbrush, and my own pillow because Daddy said some people are particular about pillows.”

Aiden comes around the hood carrying the cooler. “I said I’m particular about pillows.”

“You complained about Uncle Axel’s guest room for three days.”

“The pillow was decorative.”

I lean against the porch rail. “I’m glad we clarified who the difficult guest is.”

His mouth curves as he reaches me. He sets the cooler down, cups the back of my neck, and kisses me while Josie attempts to open my front door with her elbow.

“What’s first?” Aiden asks.

I look at the supplies he has brought, then at the man waiting for an itinerary. “Nothing.”

His eyebrows lift.

“That is the first part of Friday. We sit on the porch and make no demands of one another.”

Josie stops wrestling with the door. “Can I read?”

“Reading is the preferred form of nothing.”

She accepts this without question and chooses the cushioned chair. I stretch out in the hammock with my book. Aiden settles on the porch step, opening the paperback I gave him last week. He lasts four pages before his attention slides above the cover.

“Do you need help with a difficult word?” I ask.

“I’m considering whether this man has ever completed a day’s work.”

“He inherited money. Work would interfere with his availability for morally questionable activities.”

“Convenient.”

Josie looks up from her book. “What are morally questionful activities?”