“Mom and Dad came up with the idea for the fishing lodge when they were first married,” Reed explained as they made their way over to the dining table. “They designed it as well.”
“Actually,” his father interjected, “this l-lodge was much smaller to begin with. When the fishing retreat began seeing a steady fl-flow of guests in its first few years, we decided to expand the lodge during off-season.”
“We built this great room on and added several of the larger cabins to accommodate groups or families,” Gage said.
“It’s perfect,” Aurora said, making Gage’s father’s chest puff up ever so slightly. The effort he put into getting some of his words out combined with his slightly off-balanced gait made her wonder if he’d suffered a stroke like Emmy’s father had.
“Glad you like it,” Gage said as he walked beside her.
“I feel bad not helping your mother and sister bring the food out,” Aurora leaned over to whisper to Gage as they neared the table.
“Don’t,” he said. “I’m sure they appreciated you offering to help, but they have a routine for dinner they like to stick to. And tonight is easy. They’re only serving dinner to one guest. They’re used to serving a whole table filled with hungry fishermen.”
“The other guests aren’t coming?”
He shook his head. “Not this evening.”
“Their group is having hot dogs over the fire down by their cabins,” Reed said.
“I haven’t had a hot dog cooked over a fire since Jade and I were little. My family liked to camp.”
“So you really aren’t a stranger to the outdoors,” Gage noted in surprise.
“Not completely,” she replied. “As a wildlife photographer, I spend a lot of time outside.”
“And here I thought you were just a city girl with a really nice camera,” he told her with a playful grin.
“Like an onion,” she replied, “you have to peel back the layers.”
“Duly noted.”If only there were more time.Gage found himself wanting to know more about this beautiful woman who seemed to appreciate even the little things in life. Like lit artificial pines. He hadn’t even realized how many filled the room until Aurora had made mention of them.
Aurora gasped softly, drawing Gage from his thoughts.
Her gaze was fixed on the elk antler chandelier that hung suspended over the long, twelve-seater dining table.
“I promise that no elk were harmed in the making of this chandelier,” he said. “They shed their horns naturally.”
“I know,” she replied.
“You do?” he said in surprise.
She laughed. “I’ve learned a thing or two about the wildlife I photograph. I just hadn’t realized how grand this chandelier was until I was standing almost beneath it. It’s amazing.”
“Reed made it,” Jim said.
She looked at Gage’s brother. “You did?”
Reed nodded. “It was a good winter project.”
“And you paint, too,” she said. “Impressive.”
I can fly a plane, Gage refrained from blurting out. He tried to conjure up the image of his ex as a reminder that he didn’t want to vie for any woman’s attention, but his memory couldn’t be jarred.
His brother stood from the seat he’d taken and pulled out the chair next to his. “You can sit here,” he offered Aurora with a charming grin.
“Thank you,” Aurora replied, smiling up at him.
Gage felt a pinch of something that made him want to lift his lip into a snarl. How ridiculous was that? Reed could charm away all he wanted. Even if he’d be wasting his time. Aurora had a life in Seattle. Maybe even a boyfriend, for all Gage knew. Definitely no husband, because he’d overheard her tell Glady that she wasn’t married.
