Page 39 of Hooked on Emerson
The door opened before he could text that he’d arrived. Ava stepped out wearing jeans and a soft green sweater, her hair loose around her shoulders, a small backpack slung over one arm. There was something tentative in her smile as she approached the truck, as if she too was wondering what today would hold.
“Morning,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat. She held out a travel mug. “As promised. Black, no sugar.”
“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed as he took it, the brief contact sending a warmth through him he fought to ignore. “Sleep okay?”
“Not really.” She fastened her seatbelt, her movements deliberate. “You?”
“About the same.”
The simple honesty of their exchange eased something in Emerson’s chest. At least they weren’t pretending. At least that much was real between them.
He pulled away from the curb, the truck’s engine a low rumble in the quiet morning. The streets were empty, most of Millfield still asleep. Dew glistened on lawns and rooftops, catching the first real light of day.
“Pond first?” he asked, though they’d already planned this.
Ava nodded, her gaze on the passing scenery. “Yes. The bookstore doesn’t open until ten anyway.”
They drove in silence for a while. Emerson stole glances at her profile when he could, noting the slight tension in her jaw, the way her fingers curled around her coffee cup as if seeking its warmth. She looked tired, shadows beneath her eyes suggesting her night had been as restless as his own.
Miller’s Pond lay at the edge of town, a small, natural body of water surrounded by trees and meadows. In summer, families came to picnic and swim. In autumn, it was quieter, more solitary. The perfect place for two people navigating the uncertain waters between them.
The dirt parking area was empty when they arrived. A light mist hovered over the pond’s surface, ghostly tendrils reaching up from the water like searching fingers. The trees along the shore wore their autumn colors proudly—gold, crimson, burnt orange—reflected in the still water like a painting someone had smudged with a careless thumb.
“It’s beautiful,” Ava said softly, her first words since they’d left town. “I can’t believe I’ve lived here my whole life and never done this.”
Emerson nodded. “Sometimes the things closest to us are the easiest to overlook.”
The rental canoe sat upside down on a small wooden dock, paddles leaning against a nearby tree. Emerson flipped it with ease, checking for spiders or debris before sliding it into the water with a gentle splash. Ava watched from the shore, her arms wrapped around herself against the morning chill.
“Ever been canoeing before?” he asked, holding the boat steady against the dock.
She shook her head. “Mom always talked about it. Said she and my dad used to come here when they were dating. But we never got around to it.”
“It’s easy enough,” he said, offering his hand to help her in. “Just follow my lead.”
Her fingers were cold as they slipped into his, her grip firm despite her obvious nervousness. He steadied her as she stepped carefully into the canoe, the craft rocking slightly beneath her weight. For a moment, she clutched his hand tighter, her balance uncertain. Then she found her seat at the front, releasing him with a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Emerson pushed off from the dock, stepping into the canoe with the practiced motion of someone who’d done this many times before. The vessel glided smoothly onto the pond, water lapping gently against its sides. He settled into the rear seat, paddle in hand, and with a few strong strokes, guided them away from shore.
The morning was still and quiet around them. No wind stirred the trees, no birds called from the shore. Just the soft splash of paddles entering water, the gentle creak of the canoe as it cut through the pond’s glassy surface. Mist swirled around them,cool against their skin, tasting of earth and water when they breathed it in.
Ava dipped her paddle tentatively at first, her strokes uneven, but soon found her rhythm. They moved in tandem, the canoe gliding deeper into the pond, leaving a widening V of ripples in their wake. The shore receded, the trees becoming a solid wall of color around the water’s edge.
“You’re a natural,” Emerson said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Ava glanced back at him, a genuine smile touching her lips. “It feels good. Being on the water like this.”
“Peaceful.”
“Yes.” She trailed her fingers through the water, creating small whirlpools that quickly dissolved. “Though I might regret this tomorrow. Pretty sure I’m using muscles I forgot existed.”
Emerson chuckled. “We can take a break whenever you want.”
They paddled toward the center of the pond, where a small island of rocks and stunted trees rose from the water. The mist was thinner here, allowing glimpses of blue sky overhead. By unspoken agreement, they steered toward it, finding a natural harbor of sorts in a small cove protected by overhanging branches.
Emerson secured the canoe to a protruding root, helping Ava onto the rocky shore. She wobbled slightly as she stepped out, her hand finding his arm for balance. The contact was brief but charged with awareness, a reminder of how easy it had been to touch each other just days ago, how complicated it felt now.
They found a flat rock large enough to sit on, spreading a small blanket Emerson had brought from his truck. Ava settled beside him, close but not touching, her gaze on the water stretching before them. The mist was burning off now, the morning sun warming the air around them.
