“Boring. Stop at Surdyk’s. They have an awesome deli and they’ll furnish utensils. Because, dude, there’s a fine line between showing up with classy grub and showing up toting a wicker picnic basket totally kitted out with a tablecloth, wineglasses and matching plates.”
“No doubt. Thanks, man.”
“No problem. So do I know this chick?”
“Nope. Just met her last week.”
“Where?”
“Why does that matter?” I said sharply.
“Because you pick women like you pick building projects. You always go for the ‘unique fixer-uppers.’”
“Not true.”
“Keep telling yourself that. And when you figure out her walls are impossible to break down—or, worse, if her foundation crumbles—”
“I get it, okay?” While I appreciated that my cousin went to bat for me no matter what, I wasn’t blameless in any of my failed relationships. I’d always been drawn to women a little left of center.
“Have you told the posse about her yet?”
Posse. I bit back a snort. But the term did fit my family. “Just Brady.”
“Ah. He’s loosened up since Lennox came into the picture. Last night the manager of Flurry texted me a pic of your brother and his woman getting their dirty groove on.”
“Brady’s got a life outside LI, which is what we were aiming for with the intervention last year.”
“I don’t begrudge him a second of happiness. I just wish it wasn’t giving the Lund matriarchs matchmaking ideas.”
“Aunt Edie is trying to set you up with someone?”
“Yeah. Since Jax has brought forth the lone grandchild, he’s not a target. I am. But it won’t work. I’m completely committed to having no commitment.”
I laughed. “Bet you don’t say that to her face.”
“I don’t have a death wish. I’ll bet you’re skirting the issue with Aunt Selka too.”
“That’d be a sucker bet, cuz. Think Ash is getting the same pressure from Aunt Priscilla?”
“He mentioned she’s dropped suggestions like he needs to ‘get over Veronica’ and move on.”
Glad to hear I wasn’t the only one being singled out for not being coupled up. I’d pulled back from Lund family gossip for longer than anyone had noticed, so I was out of the loop. “Thanks for the advice, man. I’ve gotta hit the shower.”
“No problem.”
I waited for Nolan to say, “Let’s grab a beer after work one night next week,” like he used to. But he didn’t.
I wasn’t surprised; I’d gotten used to it.
—
I texted Trinity the directions to our meeting place at Christmas Lake. Then I dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt—I’d be ready to swim even if she opted out.
The female college student who helped me at Surdyk’s had a romantic streak and made tons of suggestions for picnic fare—all of which I was only too happy to follow.
At the marina, I loaded the cooler onto the boat, then readied the boat for takeoff. I tried not to pace in the parking lot when thirty minutes had passed and she hadn’t shown up.
I checked my phone. No text messages or voice mail.
Then she finally pulled in and parked her Toyota 4Runner five spaces down from my truck.
I played it cool, waiting until she’d exited the vehicle before I approached her. I couldn’t withhold my grin upon seeing her with her hair pulled back and wearing knee-length denim capris and a loose-fitting gauzy white blouse.
“Hey, pretty lady.” I bent down and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful and summery.”
“Thanks. Sorry I’m late. I had trouble finding it.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s a big lake. How could I have missed it?”
“No worries. I’m not on a schedule. Are you?”
She shook her head and slung a large canvas tote bag over her shoulder. She seemed tense. Had she changed her mind about being here? Or being with me?
Don’t overthink this.
“If you’ve got everything you need, the boat is ready.”
“Lead the way, Captain.”
I snagged her hand and led her across the asphalt parking lot. We passed a few people I knew as we traversed the floating dock and we exchanged the typical comments about the weather. When we reached the dock space, I stepped over the railing first, then held my hand out to help her aboard.
“This is your boat?”
“Not entirely mine. My cousin and I own it together. Why?”
Trinity laughed and her entire demeanor changed.
“What?”
“I thought you’d have a fast jet boat or one of those fancy boats that are used for wakeboarding and competition skiing. So I’d prepared myself to spend the day trying to shout over the loud engine noises and white-knuckling my life vest as we zipped around the lake at high speeds. But this—?” She pointed to the pontoon. “Is so much better.”