Page 77 of The Kiss Keeper
Jake opened the passenger side door to the old camp van and helped her in, then settled himself in the driver’s seat.
She took off her cowgirl hat and set it on her lap. “I can’t believe I missed the signs. There was a time about a year ago when I couldn’t get ahold of them. I figured that they were busy with summer camp preparations. But it wasn’t that at all. It’s so hard to believe. My grandparents always seemed larger than life to me. It’s hard to think of them as…”
“Just people?” Jake offered.
“Yes, and the notion that the camp might have become too much for them,” she added.
He started the van and merged into traffic. “It’s good that they have options.”
She stared at his profile. “What do you mean, options?”
“Well, if you and I weren’t taking over, they could always sell. Your grandpa did mention that he was considering it.”
Heat coursed through her veins. “Yes, maybe for a second, but I don’t think he’d do it. This place is too important.”
“Natalie, don’t get angry. I’m only saying that there are always options—especially when you have to take into account someone’s health,” Jake replied gently.
She nodded and forced herself to take a breath. Jake bought and sold property for a living. It made sense that he’d take that possibility into consideration, but that didn’t mean it didn’t shake her to the core.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to Camp Woolwich,” she said.
The responsibility already weighed on her, but now the true magnitude of what she—and Jake—had volunteered to do hit home, and it hit home hard. If she failed, her grandparents most likely wouldn’t be able to swoop in and help.
“We won’t let it fail. You’re not doing this alone. You’ve got me,” he said, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “And you could probably get Leo on board to do just about anything you needed if you showed him your feet every so often.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “You’re probably right, but ew.”
“Look at that! A Jake ranks higher than a podiatrist,” he teased.
She sat back and drank in his beautiful face. “You’re not justaJake. You’re my Jake.”
He glanced at his watch. “A Jake who needs to hit the gas if we don’t want to be late.”
She stared out the window as they traveled the familiar roads. “And don’t forget, you need to take the next turn—which you’d know if you had a phone with GPS. The Maine roads can be tricky.” She still couldn’t believe he’d thrown his cell into the ocean. She turned her attention back to him. “Are you sure you don’t want to get a new phone? We could always head into Portland tomorrow and pick up another.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I’m not ready to deal with that world yet.”
“You’ll have to eventually, though, right?” she asked. He’d been reticent about his work, but he was technically on vacation. Still, the way his phone had pinged and chimed before he’d sent it to a watery grave made her think he’d had quite a bit going on.
“I’m still working a few things out in my head, Heels.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “It’ll be fine.”
It wasn’t long before they exited the main road and headed down the camp’s bumpy drive. Jake pulled into the makeshift parking area. The gravel lot was empty when they’d left, but now several cars squeezed into the small space.
“Who else is coming?” he asked, scanning the nearly full lot as he helped her out.
She put on her cowgirl hat, then noticed a swank BMW tucked between a few older model sedans.
“The cars probably belong to the musicians. I thought tonight was going to be just friends and family, but knowing my grandparents, they could have invited some community group.”
“At least we know Sister Evangeline is back in that tavern with her gin. God only knows what she’d do to me at a barn dance,” Jake said with an exaggerated cringe.
“I imagine your do-si-do dance card would be filled all night,” she said, then she gasped.
“What? Did you remember that the nuns were invited?” he asked as real panic flashed in his eyes.
She shook her head. “No, the nuns aren’t coming. At least, I don’t think they are. But we need to hurry. I just remembered that as the lobster luau queen, it’s my duty to kick off the barn dance.”
“Lucky for you, I’m wearing barn dancing shoes,” he replied, admiring his new boots.
