Aurora snorted, drawing Gage’s attention in her direction. “Sorry,” she muttered, biting back the giggle that threatened to escape her lips.
“Pictionary it is,” Gage declared with a smug grin.
Julia jumped up from the overstuffed chair she’d been sitting in. “I’ll get the easel and sketch pad.”
“Would anyone like something to drink while Julia sets things up?” their mother asked with a warm smile. “Iced tea, hot tea, a glass of water? Aurora?”
“Iced tea sounds good,” Aurora replied. Far less trouble for Gage’s mother to make than hot tea.
“I’ll have some iced tea, too,” Julia called out from the storage closet she was busily digging through across the room next to the check-in counter.
“Same,” said Reed.
“Okay. Be right back.” She stood up from the sofa and made her way back to the kitchen entrance.
“Just so you know,” Julia said as she carried the folded easel and oversized drawing pad back to the sitting area in front of the stone fireplace, “Mom is a way better cook than artist. And I did not inherit Dad’s artistic abilities.”
Aurora didn’t miss the twitch at the corner of Gage’s mouth. Ah, so this was the competitive, going-for-the-win side of him his family had talked about. Seeing that fired up her own. “It’s not over until it’s over,” she told Julia.
Gage’s mother returned with the drinks, and Reed went up to the drawing pad to start the round. A little less than an hour later, the women were cheering their victory.
Gage looked at his father and brother with a dumbfounded shrug.
“What just happened?” Reed said in clear confusion.
“We just won,” Julia announced. “And Aurora is tonight’s champion.”
“She’s good, son,” his father said. “Anyone that can guess your sister’s misshaped cotton swab on a stick was a matchstick deserves the winner’s crown.”
“Looked more like a half-eaten cotton candy to me,” Reed grumbled.
Julia sent a scowl in their direction. “Aurora figured out what it was. That’s all that matters. And she guessed Mom’s drawing too. And all she had was a bunch of stars and a curly mustache.”
Gage looked at Aurora. “And how is that even possible? You got spaceman from that?”
She shrugged. “Stars are in space. And men have mustaches. Made sense to me.”
Reed groaned, rolling his eyes.
“If Reed hadn’t taken so long to draw his pictures every time, we might have stood a chance,” Gage pointed out.
His brother’s gaze swung in Gage’s direction. “Art can’t be rushed.”
“When there’s a timer going, it can,” their father chimed in.
Aurora loved sitting there listening to their playful post-gameplay chatter, watching Gage’s family’s antics. This was what she’d grown up with. And proof that she’d made the right decision in giving her engagement ring back. Love was out there. She just hadn’t found it yet. But Gage’s parents clearly had, as had her parents and her sister. Knowing that gave her hope of someday finding her own heart’s connection.
“Morning,” Gage greeted, his voice low, when Aurora stepped quietly into the main lodge. “You’re up early.”
He sat alone at the big table in the main lodge, drinking what Aurora guessed to be coffee. “I guess that makes two of us,” she replied softly and then glanced around. “Everyone still asleep?” She kept her voice low as she crossed the room.
“Dad and Reed took a group out fishing this morning, and I’ve been out back working on the gas fire pit on the patio. It’s having some issues with its igniter. Mom and Julia are in the kitchen cleaning up after breakfast.”
She sighed, disappointment pulling at her mouth. “I wanted to say my goodbyes to your family before they began their busy day.”
He smiled. “Early-riser breakfast for guests scheduled to go out fishing this morning was at six. I ate with Dad and Reed before they left. There’s a second breakfast at eight for our remaining guests if you’d like to stick around and have a bite before starting your day.”
“I had one of the granola bars from the complimentary snack basket in my cabin and a water from the drink selections your family stocked in the fridge, so I’m not really hungry.”
