Page 106 of Roughing It

“Tell me about Paige.”

It’s a steep departure from the lighthearted tale of the first, last, and only time Buster asked her to use the griddle. But if I want her to open up, I have to do the same. Even if I’d rather eat raw elderberries.

“What do you want to know?”

She rolls so she’s lying on me, her chin propped up on my chest. “You said you met when you were getting your MBA and then she moved here?”

“Yeah.”

“And you guys dated for three years?”

“Uh-huh.” Wonder how long she’ll let me get away with non-answers.

“You proposed, and she ran off a month later.”

It isn’t phrased as a question, so I don’t say anything. But neither does Blakely. With a sigh, I give in first.

“It crushed me. I bought a house, was imagining our life. And then one day, she was gone. Leaving behind a hateful voicemail telling me she deserves more than I can give her.”

Blakely kisses my chest. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but was it totally out of the blue like that? One day here, one day gone?”

Staring up at the sky overhead I say, “No, not out of the blue… For months she’s been dropping hints she wasn’t happy, then the hints turned into pressuring me to move. It started small—suggestions that we open up another branch of Peak Adventures in Albuquerque. When I said I wasn’t interested, the more hateful she got. Complaining about Bo and Gray being around too much, me being willing to settle and having no drive.” I sigh. “That’s not it, you know? I have drive. I want Peak Adventures to be a business I can leave my own kids someday, but not at the cost of giving up who I am.”

Quiet settles over us again, the lapping of water against the boat the only sound until Blakely says, “Her massive loss is my gain.”

“Huh?”

She smiles at me. “That woman’s an idiot.”

A grin tugs at my mouth. “Yeah? I think I’m the idiot.”

“Why do you say that?”

I smooth a stray hair behind her ear, then glide my finger down her cheek. “I keep falling for women who are made for more.”

“Hudson…”

“Shhh.” Rolling so we’re side by side, I pull her so she’s once again resting her head on my shoulder. “Look up.”

“Bear—”

“No more. Now look up at the stars, Spitfire.”

Her sweet gasp tells me she’s seeing it. The entire reason I brought her back on the water. Above us is a smog and light-free sky. A perfect expanse of darkness with nothing to block out the creamy swirls of the Milky Way.

“This is incredible.”

My eyes lock on her face. “It sure is.”

Lying here in the bottom of a boat, cheeks flushed from our earlier activities, nose a little chapped from the cold, makeup-free, hair windblown and wild—she’s everything. The universe has nothing on her.

She squeezes my arm and points. “Quick! Two shooting stars. Make a wish. One for each of us.”

As the eons old light fades, I close my eyes and wish for the one thing I can’t have. For her to stay.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

blakely

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