“We take two boats back to the camp and come back in my Jeep and load the other four.”
“That’s not a bad plan,” I admitted.
“I got one better!” The farmer came up behind us, and we both turned our heads. “I can haul about four’r five of these on my truck, then you can just row the other two across.”
Twenty minutes later, Mr. Kinsley’s truck was loaded with four kayaks. He insisted we fit in one more, which fit well, leaving us with only one to row across. Rick helped tie the boats tightly in place, and the two dusted their hands, admiring their handiwork.
“I’ll see you kids across,” he said, getting in his truck.
Rick hopped in front of the two-person kayak, and I followed behind him. We started to paddle in silence, and I picked up speed in an effort to keep up with him. Silently appreciating that he didn’t slow his paddling down on my account. I was also wordlessly grateful that a two-person kayak faces one direction, which took away the need for conversation.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, without glancing back at me.
There went that benefit.
“That you’re now down two shirts for the summer,” I answered, drawing attention to the grass stains and the small new tear on the sleeve of his left arm. I just had to go there.
“Ha. I suppose there are worse things,” he paused. “Like turning down a nice gesture.” His voice suddenly apologetic.
My head popped up.
“Sorry about the coffee,” he offered, glancing back at me.
“No need. I don’t offend easily.” I knew what this was. And I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d hurt my feelings.
We rowed in silence the rest of the way.
CHAPTER 8
The next night Rachel was getting ready to go to a party and tried on a number of outfits. Lucky seven made the cut: a pale-blue miniskirt, white tank top, and white strappy heels so high I imagined her walking the runway and accidently slipping. Not that I’d ever want that for Rachel. It was just a natural image that came to mind when I saw someone wearing heels she looked completely uncomfortable in.
“Hope you don’t plan on walking.”
“Course not.” She tore her eyes from the full-length mirror to give me a mischievous look. “You’re driving us.”
I took a moment to scan myself in my bed: book in hand, propped on a pillow, wearing flannel pants, a blue tank, and the coziest pair of socks known to man. I couldn’t imagine what gave Rachel the idea I planned on going out.
“Do you really think I’d let you stay in on a Saturday night?”
“Appreciate the cordial invite, but it’s not really my scene.”
I turned back to my book, which was snatched away from me a few short seconds later.
“And what is your scene, exactly?” She scanned the book’s contents for a moment before reading out loud.
“‘She stared into his dark, cold eyes and shouted, Vampire! He didn’t respond nor did he even blink at her accusation. He just stood there waiting…watching…’”
“Okay, that’s enough.” I snatched the book back.
“Look, you don’t have to like me or even stay in touch after we’re done here this summer. But there’s no way I am letting you stay in andreadin your flannels on a Saturday night.”
“What if I changed into my little black dress and stayed in to read?” I teased.
She huffed at me.
“Give you the keys to my car?” I raised two hopeful eyebrows.
“Wow, you must really be desperate to stay in.” Rachel stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, I get it—it’s Rick, isn’t it?”
