Unraveled (12 page)

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I spoke to Mr. Maxwell about potentially coaching basketball if and when Mr. Hoffman retires. He didn’t exactly give me a vote of confidence.”

Matt wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What did he say?”

“It was more what he didn’t say that got under my skin. Something about earning his trust—”

“Ah. The old ‘prove to me you’ve changed’ speech. I know you love that.” Matt shook his head.

“Exactly. I feel like I’ve done my time, you know? Whatever happened to second chances?”

“I’m sorry he shot you down. Admittedly, addiction recovery is not something I’ve personally dealt with. But I know you’ve come so far. It would be a shame to let one naysayer derail your plans.”

Blake pushed his food away, his appetite suddenly waning. “He’s hardly just one naysayer. He’s the superintendent. Kind of plays a major role in the decision-making process.”

Matt rummaged in his desk drawer and came up with a package of Oreos. He pulled open the wrapper and pushed them toward Blake. “He is the top dog, but not necessarily the deciding factor. In case you’ve forgotten, word of mouth is a powerful weapon around here.”

Blake waved off the Oreos. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“In this particular situation, I meant that as a good thing. Your family is loved and respected here, Blake. The community sees you moving back, building a business with your brother almost from scratch … that will carry you farther than you know.”

“I just hope they have short memories and an extra measure of grace, you know?”

“Absolutely. Grace is a wonderful thing.” Matt dusted the cookie crumbs from his fingers and reached for his Bible. “Let me read a few verses and then we’ll pray, okay?”

Blake listened to the rustling of pages as Matt flipped through his Bible, stopping to scan a particular passage.

“Here it is. One of my favorite verses in the Old Testament: ‘I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten—’.” Matt glanced up at Blake. “Some translations say ‘restore’ instead of ‘repay’. I like that better. It offers hope that our struggles aren’t for nothing, don’t you think?”

Blake leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees and let Matt’s advice wash over him, replacing the lingering doubts he’d harbored when he first sat down. Matt was right. He couldn’t let one negative comment take him down. The Lord had brought him this far. There was no reason to give up now. He’d keep moving forward, one day at a time.

Lauren waited on the top step of the porch, savoring the last of her coffee. The rain that pelted the roof for most of the night had finally stopped. Birds chirped and the fog parted to reveal patches of clear blue sky. All but the tops of the mountains were visible across the bay. Mitchell flopped down beside her, his muzzle finding a home on her leg.

“I know, old boy.” She scratched behind his ears. “You can’t come this time. Kayaks and dogs don’t mix.”

He whimpered and thrust one paw over her knee. She laughed and scratched him some more. His head popped up, ears perked as a truck came up the hill. Blake parked in front of the Inn and Mitchell was off the porch before Blake cut the engine.

Long legs clad in navy blue nylon wind pants and Adidas flip flops slid from the driver’s side. Her pulse quickened as he came around the front of the truck. His hair was only half-dry, curving over the edge of his Mariners visor. She caught a hint of soap and shampoo as he tossed the tennis ball Mitchell offered.

“Good morning.” She raised her mug. “Need coffee?”

A sleepy smile spread across his face as he stretched his arms high overhead. She caught a glimpse of his chiseled abdomen as his t-shirt lifted.
Lord, have mercy.

“I do need coffee. Megan is working on that for me right now. But thank you.”

“That’s a good deal you’ve got going there. Does she make your coffee every day?”

“Except Tuesdays. Jeremy can’t convince her to get out of bed on her day off and fix us our mochas. Imagine that.”

“Can’t the Tuesday girl make mochas?”

Blake reached for her backpack. “Tried that. It’s just not the same.”

Lauren laughed. “Megan has found her calling. Let me put my cup inside and we’ll go.” She tip-toed back inside and set her cup in the sink. Guests were stirring and she didn’t want to get caught in the kitchen.

She gave Mitchell one last pat on the head and Blake held the passenger door open for her.
Always the gentleman.
Their shoulders brushed before she climbed in the truck and the air crackled between them.

He went around and slid in the driver’s seat. “I appreciate your help today,” he said, turning the key in the ignition. “This is a big group excursion and we couldn’t do it without you.”

Heat warmed her cheeks under his gaze. “No problem. We only have two guests this morning. Mom can handle it and we certainly owe you.”

“You don’t owe me.” He backed up and turned the truck toward town.

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Melissa Baird would’ve skewered us in her review if you hadn’t rescued me.”

He laughed. A rich throaty laugh that made her tingle all over.

“How do you know I didn’t sabotage the whole thing and give her a lousy tour?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You’re right. Since she hasn’t published the review yet. I can’t imagine you sabotaging anything ever.”

He pulled his buzzing cellphone from the console. “Jeremy and Tisha want to know where we are.”

“It’s only 6:15,” she grumbled.

“They don’t want to unload all the sea kayaks by themselves.”

She would not let the idea of spending half the day with Tisha sour her good mood. Although she hadn’t sea kayaked in years, she knew it would all come back as soon as she had the paddle in her hands. Maybe she’d even show Miss Minneapolis a thing or two.

“How did your meeting with Mrs. Maxwell go?” Blake tapped the brakes and the truck rolled to a stop at the bottom of the hill.

“Great. She loved the flyer. It goes to the printers this afternoon.”

“See? Nothing to worry about. I told you it was awesome.” His eyes lingered on hers. The warmth and encouragement there was enough to make her heart swell. He was proud of her.
If he only knew …

Enough. That line of thinking was a slow train to crazy town. Today was not about them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Whatever. You chew your lip when you’re deep in thought. Always have.”

She touched her fingers to her lips. Caught. Scrambling for an answer, she retreated to a safer topic. “Mrs. Maxwell asked me what the Inn was doing for the festival this year. I wish I could convince Mom to do something quick and easy. Like maybe—”

“A raffle.”

“I’m sorry. A what?” She didn’t even try to conceal her surprise.

Blake parked the truck in front of the shop, drumming his thumb on the steering wheel. “A raffle. Like a package deal. One night at the Inn and a half-day sea kayaking trip.”

Her chin dropped. “Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“What’s in it for you?”

He pulled his keys from the ignition. “It’s great advertising. Pretty low cost. I think the community would totally go for it. What’s not to like?”

She had to admit it was a brilliant plan. Not to mention easy to pull off. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. I’ll talk to my parents and let you know.”

“You’re welcome.” He tipped his head toward the Copper Kettle. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Not even a quad venti half soy no whip sugar free extra hot mocha?”

She stuck out her tongue. “You’re mocking me.”

“I am.”

“Are we meeting them here?”

Blake pointed behind her toward the harbor. “They’re actually across the street at the put-in. See our van?”

She craned her neck to see a platinum blond ponytail bobbing about as a bright orange kayak was hauled out of the van.
Dang it. There she is.

“Here.” Blake passed her a set of keys. “Open up the shop. There’s some gear with your name on it laying on the counter.”

She looked down at her running tights layered under nylon shorts and frowned. “What’s wrong with what I have on? You said wear layers.”

“You need rain gear and a life jacket. On the off chance you get wet, I want you to stay warm.” Blake jangled the keys in front of her.

She shivered at the thought of doing an Eskimo roll in the kayak. She reached for the keys.

“Bathroom’s down the hall if you need it. I’ll be there in a minute.”

The key turned easily in the knob and she eased the door open. It smelled like pine trees and new shoes. She giggled when she saw the tree shaped air freshener dangling from the closet door nearby. Classic Blake. Efficient problem solver.

The counter was clean and the store quiet, except for the hum of a computer in hibernation. Black rain pants and a bright purple life jacket lay on the back counter. She dropped her backpack and found the bathroom. It was tiny, just enough room for a toilet and a pedestal sink. Posters of kayakers riding monstrous waves decorated the walls. She stripped off her hoodie and tugged on the rain pants. Pulling the bibs up to her chest, she buckled the shoulder straps over the thermal long underwear top she’d snatched from Mom’s dresser. She studied her reflection in the small round mirror hanging over the sink. Hardly fashionable but today warmth trumped appearance.

The front door of the shop opened and closed. “Lauren?”

“Just a sec,” she called. She cracked open the bathroom door and peeked out. Blake stood at the counter, unpacking a small cardboard box.

Padding toward him in her wool socks, she held up the life jacket with the attached spray skirt. “A little help here?”

His lips tipped up in a half-smile. “Sure.” He stretched the life jacket open and she turned around and slipped her arms in, then gathered her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck.

“Thanks.” She turned back around, smiling as she twisted her hair into a bun. The look in his eyes was familiar. Part tenderness, part longing. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart thrummed in anticipation.

He cleared his throat and took a step back. “Looks like you’re all set,” he said, his eyes dropping to the floor.

The distinct ache of disappointment knifed her heart. The moment was lost.

“Are those for me?” She nodded toward the gloves he clutched in his hands.

“Yes.” He handed them over and tossed the plastic wrap back in the box. “I need to change.”

“Right.” She swallowed hard and took the gloves, careful not to let her fingers brush against his.
This is business, remember? Returning a favor and all that.

Blake grabbed his wetsuit and went into the bathroom. Lauren pulled on rubber boots then went outside and stowed her backpack in Blake’s truck. He came out a few minutes later, locking the shop behind him. He traded his wind pants for a wet suit, but the top half hung loose at his waist, meeting the hem of his t-shirt.

“Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, he hit the button on his key fob to lock the truck and started across the street. She hustled after him, her spray skirt swaying and her boots clomping on the asphalt.

“How are those boots?” he asked, taking long strides down the ramp to the dock.

She kicked out her leg and stepped on the heel of his flip flop.

“Hey!” He stumbled and grabbed the handrail on the ramp. He glared at her over his shoulder.

“Oh, sorry.” She smiled sweetly. “I’m a little clumsy today.”

His irritation diminished and he laughed.

Down on the dock, Tisha turned at the sound of Blake’s laugh and flashed a pearly white smile. When her eyes flickered to Lauren, the smile froze for an instant. She recovered and extended her hand.

“Good morning, I’m Tisha. You must be—”

“Lo-lo!” Jeremy called from the far end of the dock and let out a wolf whistle. “Nice ensemble.”

Lauren waved and then shook Tisha’s hand. “Lauren Carter. Nice to meet you.”

“I didn’t realize you were joining us this morning.” Tisha shot Blake a questioning look.

Let’s see you explain this one.

Blake dropped two life jackets on the dock and fixed his gaze on Tisha. “We’re expecting a party of nine, five of them are minors. The youngest is barely eleven. Lauren will ride with her. It’s a safety issue, Tisha.”

Yeah, blondie. It’s all about safety.

“Great.” Tisha nodded. “Have you kayaked before?”

Lauren swallowed a snide reply.

“Tisha, help me out, will ya?” Jeremy moved between them and pointed toward the van and trailer. “We need one more kayak to get this party started.”

Tisha turned on her heel and jogged up the ramp. Jeremy winked and nudged Lauren’s shoulder as he passed by. Lauren couldn’t hide her smile.

“What’s so funny?” Blake locked eyes with her. His t-shirt lay discarded on the dock.

“Your girl’s a little testy.” She let her eyes slide down to his bare chest. Muscles rippled as he slipped his arms into a gray Quicksilver rash guard.
I think my morning just got a whole lot better.

He pulled the rashguard over his head. “She’s not my girl.”

She raised one eyebrow. “You should tell her that.”

He yanked the wetsuit up over his shoulders and zipped the sleeveless top, keeping his cool blue eyes locked on hers. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
Hmm. Sore subject.

Jeremy and Tisha returned with another double kayak and a large family in tow. They were loud and boisterous, horsing around in their matching rain gear. The kids were all boys, except for one sullen, blue eyed girl with long raven black hair. She stood apart from the group, arms folded across her chest. Lauren assumed this was her partner for the day.

While Blake and Jeremy made introductions and reviewed the safety instructions, Lauren approached the grumpy tweener.

“Hey, I’m Lauren. We’re going to ride together. Can I help you with your life jacket?”

The girl eyed the life jacket with utter disdain. She snapped and popped her bubble gum.

“I am not wearing that.”

Lauren took a deep breath and embraced her inner cheerleader. “C’mon, orange is totally your color. Slip this on, you’ll be the hottest thing around.”

“Hannah, let’s go,” barked the male who most resembled the father figure in the group.

Hannah huffed out a breath, blew her bangs out of her eyes and snatched the life jacket from Lauren’s hand.

Blake squatted and braced the first kayak against the dock. “Lauren, you get in first and show her how it’s done.”

Lauren glared daggers at him. Why did she have to be the guinea pig?

Blake’s expression told her he meant business. She buckled her life jacket and jabbed one foot into the rear cockpit. The kayak rocked and her body swayed, forcing her to commit. She pulled her other leg in and slid into her seat. She forced a confident smile for Hannah’s benefit.

The fear was evident on the young girl’s face. Blake spoke softly, she nodded and tentatively climbed in. Lauren held her breath as Blake inched closer. He demonstrated how to adjust their spray skirts to keep the cockpit dry but she wasn’t listening. She studied his hands, moving deftly to secure a dry bag to the webbing on the kayak. Those same hands once held her, toyed with her hair, carried her books to class…

He touched her shoulder and she snapped back to reality. “I’m sorry, what?”

He held her gaze for a moment. “I asked if you had any questions?”

Heat climbed up her neck.
Dang it. Pay attention.
“No, we’re all good.”

She grabbed a paddle and glanced at the back of Hannah’s head. “We’re going to push off in three, Hannah. Three, two, one and here we go.”

The bow of the orange kayak slid forward in the blue-green water as Blake gave them a gentle shove. She dipped the blade in the water, first on the left then tipped the shaft and touched the water on the right. Hannah sat motionless, her shoulders hunched. The paddle lay across the kayak, blades still dry.

We’re off to a roaring good start.
“Hannah, this will be a lot more fun if you paddle, too.”

The girl mumbled something unintelligible and one blade slanted lazily toward the water.

Lauren racked her brain for some way to motivate the young girl to participate. Although she hit the gym almost daily in Portland, she lacked the endurance to paddle for both of them on a four hour tour. Maybe they should turn back.

“What’s the matter, Hannah-banana?” Two of her brothers eased alongside, their paddles moving in tandem as their bright yellow kayak sliced through the water. “Are ya chicken?”