Page 18 of Aim for Love

“Of course. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.” I pull out my phone. “Why don’t you give me your number so we can set it up.”

After she does, I linger, shifting my weight back and forth on my feet as I wonder how to bring up the kiss. Or her friends concluding I’m her “vacation fling.” Or my uncharacteristic interest in being that. I wonder if they’re still listening, right on the other side of the door.

“Well, I better…” she begins as I say, “About the…”

We both stop and, again, stare at each other. She smiles and I smile back.

“I could use the practice,” she says. “At everything you’ve showed me so far.”

“Even the…” I blink.

“Yeah. Especially that.”

Well, I’m pretty sure I know what we’re talking about here, but I’m not used to playing games in my conversations. “I thought you did pretty well at the kissing part,” I say.

She grins. “Then maybe I can show you something in return.” She winces. “Not that you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re very…talented.”

“Thanks. I read a lot of books.” Because now I can’t help it, I laugh. I hope her friends aren’t eavesdropping right now, discovering how verynotsmooth I am. She laughs with me.

“OK, well…” she gestures vaguely over her shoulder. I nod.

“I’ll text you later,” I say. “Maybe tomorrow morning? If you’re OK getting up early.”

“I’m totally OK with that.”

“Great.”

“I’ll see you, Hunter.” I think it’s the first time she’s said my name to my face. I nod.

“See you, Mollie.”

Are all hook-ups this awkward to arrange? I wouldn’t know. This is my first one.

We meet at a small pond not far outside of town. “Nora and Sophie weren’t even up yet when I left the hotel this morning,” Mollie tells me conspiratorially. She seems delighted that I brought her coffee and her favorite muffin—the lemon curd—from Dorothy’s and not sorry to see the sun start to rise over the mountains surrounding us.

The early morning sun illuminates her in a way I’ve never seen before. She’s golden and happy and I’m not sorry I got up and left on one of the few mornings I could have slept in a little, either.

It’s technically a day off for Mollie’s group on the tour. We planted one early in the week so that we didn’t burn people out on activities too soon. Scott’s taking another group out hiking today, while I need to plan the logistics of the next few outings and run inventory.

And hang out with Mollie. I’m already thinking of inviting her to the lake later.

“So, first, we find a rock. You want a kind of flat one.” I start looking around on the ground.

Mollie stands nearby, sipping her coffee and watching me. “You’re so earnest.”

“Does it bother you?” I’ve heard that before, usually toward the end of a relationship when they got tired of me.

“No, I’m worried I won’t be good at this and disappoint you.”

“The only thing you have to do is try. The results don’t matter to me. If you try and you enjoy the process a little bit, that’s all I want.”

She smiles. “Really? Are you sure you don’t want me to become a stone-throwing savant at least alittlebit? You know, because you’re such a good teacher.”

Looking around my feet at the rocks, I consider it. “I know I’m kind of serious about this stuff.”

“Kind of.”

“It’s because I want people to enjoy it as much as I do. That’s why I like teaching, not because I want to prove I can make people better at something. People who say anyone can be taught, or whatever, are inflating the ego of the teacher. Learning is a partnership. And you and I are still getting to know each other.”

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