Page 23 of Red, White, and You

I blink, bringing her into focus, then look around the small kitchen and realize the chef has left us alone to enjoy the meal we prepared. “Sorry, Breezy. Just lost in thought.” I pull out a chair for her and wait for her to sit down, then settle into a seat beside her. “This looks amazing. You did a great job.”

“Me?” She laughs as she lays her napkin across her lap. “We both did this.”

“Nah. I couldn’t take my eyes off you the whole night.”

She looks over at me and holds my gaze for a few seconds, then opens her mouth, closing it quickly as she shakes her head and focuses on her plate. “Let’s eat.”

“I love you,” I say, because it’s what she wants to say. So I’ll say it for both of us.

As many times as it takes.

Brie nods, sucking in a breath, but doesn’t look at me. I focus on the bob of her throat as she swallows, then tear my gaze away from her and cut into the lamb.

I’ll continue to say it for both of us until she can say it again for herself.

Brie

Caffeinated and sated, I stand on the edge of the dock, looking out over West Lake. The mid-morning sun casts a warm glow on the water’s surface. It’s my second morning waking up in Brady’s arms in our private cabin at Camp West, and I’m buzzing with a mixture of nervous excitement and looming dread.

Each new sunrise brings me one day closer to leaving.

Reuniting with my ex-husband after all these years has been like diving into uncharted waters, unsure of what lies beneath, while somehow also knowing that I am supported and safe. Brady will always be there to catch me.

It’s a beautiful juxtaposition of feelings and I don’t want it to end.

But end, it must. I know that as surely as I know my own name. If we were worlds apart back then, time has only deepened that divide between us. The proof is in our careers; they couldn’t be less alike if we tried.

Brady stands beside me now, and, as if he senses my thoughts have taken a turn, slides his hand into mine and gives me a gentle squeeze.

Alwaysthere to catch me.

The camp bustles with activity, but in this moment, as I look up into his eyes, time stands still, leaving only the two of us.

A gentle breeze ruffles my hair, and I pull my gaze away from Brady, turning my attention to the shimmering lake. I’ve been so caught up in the excitement of Brady West that I somehow allowed him to convince me to do get back on skis.

As we approach the dock, the sound of laughter and splashing water fills the air. The lake teems with life, adults of all ages enjoying the summer sun. They float on inflatable unicorns and drink margaritas pulled from coolers floating beside them, or scream as they plunge down the waterslides.

Brady squeezes my hand, his touch sending a wave of electricity through my body. It’s a familiar sensation, like finding a long-lost piece of myself, and I allow it to remind me that this, too, is a long-lost piece of myself.

A long-forgotten piece, sure, but I grew up on the water; returning to it should be second nature.

We secure our life vests and approach a beautifully restored wooden boat bobbing in the water.

“Ready?” Brady asks.

“Hardly.”

He laughs, then jumps into the ski boat. “It’s like riding a bike, Breezy.”

“I doubt that,” I grumble as slip off my sandals, feeling the warm wood planks beneath my feet. And truthfully, who knows if I even remember how to dothat.

Brady helps me onto the boat, then we sit side by side on the wooden bench.

The boat surges forward, and a rush of adrenaline courses through my veins. The wind tousles my hair as we glide acrossthe lake’s surface. Brady’s hand grazes mine, and I instinctively curl my fingers around his.

When we reach the middle of the lake, far away from the swimmers and the other water sports, we slow to a stop and Brady slips into the water with ease, then jerks his head toward the water, eyes narrowing as he holds my gaze. “You didn’t develop a fear of lakes when you moved to the city, did you?”

I scoff. “No.”

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