Page 71 of New River Gorge(ous)
“I was thirteen. That was over a decade ago.”
June waves her hand like it doesn’t matter. “Once you’re good at something, you don’t just become ungood at it.”
“How much of an adventure are you up for, Brooke?” I ask.
“Probably not the Upper Gauley,” she says. “Logan showed me a video of Gauley Season, and that is insanity.”
I bite my tongue. I’vedoneGauley Season, but yes, it absolutely is insanity for someone who’s never rafted. “Let’s keep it easy and fun.”
Logan will think it’s a waste of time, but I’ll enjoy it, I’ll be with Brooke.
39
Brooke
Beck drove Meemaw and me back home after our ice cream and instructed me to grab a swimsuit, shorts, and a shirt that could get wet. I knew I needed all that and closed-toe shoes from the checklist at work, but I still feel a little concerned that if I’m not going on a paid tour, something crazy is going to happen.
My fingers find their way into my hair again.
Meemaw watches me as I collect everything I need. “Honey,” she calls out. “Do you really not trust him still?”
I frown and sit in the kitchen chair next to her. “What do you mean?”
“Your hair, Brookie.” She gently reaches out a hand and pulls my hand away from my roots. “Istrustwhy you always like to be the one who plans everything?”
I swallow. Grandmotherly wisdom I don’t want to hear is forthcoming.
“You know that you can trust him. And his friends. And the people here. You know that. So let go a little, Brookie, and enjoy the adventure. You don’t have to control everything.”
My mouth drops open.
Beck knocks on the front door and then lets himself in. My mouth still hangs open from Meemaw’s wisdom, but when my eyes turn to Beck, my jaw would have dropped anyway.
He wears a black Dri-FITshort-sleeve shirt and black swim trunks with tiny classic cars printed all over, but if that wasn’t enough, the black baseball cap with the WVU School of Medicine perched backward on his head would have done me in.
Beck dresses casually, despite being a doctor, but I’ve never seen him look like this.
He blinks his brown eyes at me a few times, and I shake my head to clear the shock of how attractive he is even in this attire. Meemaw laughs.
“Doctor got your tongue, Brookie?” she needles, then adds in a low voice, “I’m sure he will before the day is out.”
“Meemaw!” I hiss while Beck snickers. I’m glad Beck knows Meemaw’s a meddlesome woman whose filter disintegrated at least six decades ago, if she ever had one.
“Ready?” Beck asks, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
“Yep.” I stand up from the chair, and it’s Beck’s turn to gape. My swimsuit is modest by every stretch of the imagination, but I’m thrilled he clearly finds me attractive in the short-style bottoms and short-sleeved pink top I threw over my bathing suit tank.
“No babies yet, you two,” Meemaw says, and Beck shakes his head before smiling.
“I know, I know, Miss June. Rings first, babies later.”
He extends a hand to me, and I take it.
Beck doesn’t drive us to the RAFT headquarters. Instead, he drives us along the New River until we reach a secluded turn-off from the road tucked into a copse of Virginia pines.
“I thought we’d meet at work,” I say as Beck switches the ignition off.
“Nah. This is where the locals put in.”
