Ten feet from him, Grace sprang up, laughing, water streaming from her mane of gold hair. “Wow—I did it! I did it!”
Before he knew it, she’d launched herself at him, diving into his arms, hers curling around his neck.
The warmth of her body jolted him, but he reacted fast. He caught her at the waist, stood in the water and swung her around, feeling how small and perfect and—
Oh, boy. He wanted to stay right here, holding her, molding her to himself in the darkness, the vastness of the ocean around them.
Safe from time and life and especially incurable diseases that would steal the magic away.
How he hated his life sometimes, the part that stole his tomorrows.
She leaned back, met his eyes. “I did it.”
His gaze caught on the shimmer of water on her eyelashes. If he angled his head down, he could just brush her lips—
Max found a smile, praying that his heart didn’t actually explode from his chest. “Yeah, you did. You’re a regular surfing Betty!” He heard his own too-exuberant enthusiasm. But maybe it would hide the tightening of his throat, the desire that thrummed through him.
“A what?”
“Nothing. You were fabulous.” Yeah, that sounded nearly normal. He put her down, let her back away. Cleared his throat. “Wanna go again?”
“No.” She stood in the water, hands on her hips. “I shouldn’t have let a few fancy appetizers, wandering cameras, and a hot blonde scare me away from the goal line.”
“Is that a football reference? Because I don’t do football—”
“But you do cook. We cook. And we’ll be an amazing team if we can just get a chance to compete. I wanna call Keoni and tell him that we want our interview. I’ll beg him if I have to.”
“What are you talking about? We had our interview. You talked with Chef Rogers on the lanai, and Tonie already knows I can cook. Not to mention Keoni was the one who pushed us into this in the first place.”
She stared at him. “What are you saying?”
“Those are the judges, Grace. And if they like us, we’re in.”
Her eyes went big. “I hope they like us.”
“They will,” he said. “They’ll love us.”
She smiled, something soft and perfect and brilliant in the moonlight, and he wished for a wave to knock him over and sweep him out to sea.
Or maybe he’d already been swept away.
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE, Raina had found a place she might actually belong.
Or at least be needed.
Since Casper had bought her coffee in an attempt to warm her after her dip in the cool Lake Superior water, Raina had learned four things.
One. Casper might be pegged as the town Casanova, but he’d turned into a gentleman around her. Which made her wonder if Liza had him confused with Owen.
Two. Raina possessed latent dragon boat paddling skills.
Three. Casper desperately needed help garnering his team’s confidence if he wanted to win back the Evergreen Resort dragon boat trophy.
Four. She, despite her past with Christiansen men, wanted to help him earn said confidence. Especially after his enthusiasm at her idea to have paddle training onshore.
No more live-water practices until they learned to work together, in rhythm. She’d followed with a suggestion that he have a team barbecue after their first in-water practice.
The team had invested in the cookout idea and eagerly assembled by the lake after Saturday’s practice, more interested in eating than paddling, perhaps. The Huestons brought a pasta salad; Claire and Jensen provided soda; the Deckers furnished fresh chocolate chip cookies.
It felt like a family reunion . Especially with the campfire crackling on the shore, mingling with the laughter and hum of conversation among the team members seated in camp chairs and Adirondack chairs around the flames.
If only Raina didn’t feel like the cousin no one knew. But maybe with her decisive action to help save the team spirit, she might be grafted in.
Unless, that was, she let the hamburgers burn.
“Turn the flame down!” She rushed over to the grill, where Casper manned the spatula, reached around him, and turned down the heat. A char had already formed on the meat, the scent of the garlic powder turning acrid.
“Sorry. I thought they weren’t cooking fast enough,” Casper said.
Raina put the lid down. “Trust me. Trap the heat, and in a minute or so, flip them.” She handed him her special recipe barbecue sauce—a tangy concoction she’d experimented with for days before getting right. “Then brush this on them. I’ll be back to check your work.” She smiled, winked.
Shoot, what was wrong with her, adding that wink?
She’d clearly lost her head. The last thing she needed was Casper flirting with her.