Page 13 of Off the Trail

“I have one.”

“Great. It’ll be fun. I’ll bring Misty.”

For some reason, I tense. “Misty?”

“My Australian Shepherd.”

I instantly relax. For a second I thought he meant his girlfriend or something. “Sounds like an adventure.” I’m not sure about this at all, but I trust Blaze.

His hazel eyes twinkle. “See you tomorrow then, around four?”

“Great.” I don’t move, and he doesn’t either, and we end up staring at each other for a long, awkward second until he finally backs up a step and gives me a sort of half-salute.

“Okay, see ya, Shawn.”

“See you.” I turn and head out the way I came in. Outside, rain drips onto my face, cooling my unnaturally hot cheeks.

Chapter 6

Blaze

“I’m going to be home late tonight,” I tell Brooke Friday morning through the open door as she’s brushing her hair in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, yeah?” she asks with interest. “You got a date?”

I flinch. I haven’t had a real date in a decade. “Work. I’m taking a guest on a night hike. Should be fun, though. It’s Shawn Camden.”

“’m I supposed to know who ’at is?” she asks, her words partially obscured by the hair clip she’s holding between her lips.

“He was on the Hartford Laurels. Shortstop.”

“A baseball player? Is he cute?”

“He’s—” Cute isn’t the right word. All told, he’s reassuringly normal looking. Nice eyes, though. Appealing smile. And as long as you ignore his muscles and the size of his hands and the fact that he spent ten years playing for my favorite baseball team, he’s just a regular dude. “—a guest,” I finish belatedly, because that’s all that matters, anyway.

“You are so boring,” she says with affection. “I’ll be late tonight, too, so feel free to stay out as late as you want with your baseball player.”

This hike with Shawn is not a date—it’s literally my job. But I’m looking forward to it all the same. Is it sad that these are my Friday night plans? It’s not the work that bothers me—my job isn’t nine-to-five, and I wouldn’t want it to be. But lately it’s becoming pretty clear that between work and building the house for Brooke, I haven’t left time for anything else. I thought I was okay with that, but something about Shawn’s arrival at the retreat’s been making me wonder if I’m ready for a change.

Not that available guys are thick on the ground in these parts.

“So, tomorrow, we’re going to see the construction progress,” I call as I untangle Misty’s lead from where I tossed it on the kitchen table after getting home last night. I hang it up on the hook next to the fireplace.

Brooke joins me in the living room, her hair now neatly twisted away from her face. She looks so much like Mom sometimes, when she’d pull her hair back and help Dad strip old furniture he’d picked up at yard sales. He’d fix up tables and chairs, paint them, and sell them for a small profit. Mom would playfully criticize his paint color choices, and they’d laugh together, heads bent toward each other.

My heart pinches a little at the intrusive memory.

“Yeah, sure, B. But it’s my day off, so I’m sleeping in.”

“We’ll go after breakfast,” I promise, putting away thoughts of our parents with a roll of my shoulders.

On our way to the retreat, Misty and I stop by the construction site and check in with Luis.

“We lost most of yesterday to the rain, but we should be able to catch up today. I might come in on Saturday, too,” he says.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“More rain in the forecast for next week. Let’s try to stay ahead of the weather.”