Page 72 of Summer Ever After
The cooler is packedwith drinks and food.
There’s a bag of snacks.
And less than a quarter tank of fuel.
Running out of gas is the best way I could think of to try the stranded-together trope. Knowing Phoenix Park, he’ll probably look at the fuel indicator on my boat’s dashboard before we glide out of the dock and put an end to my plan.
It’s not like we’ll really be stranded.
We can radio in for someone to bring us gas. But I’m hoping the situation will loosen Phoenix up a bit and force us to work together to solve our problem. And in working together, maybe some chemistry will grow.
My hopes of this plan actually working aren’t high. With each passing week and date I go on, my optimism goes down a notch or two. It’s just tough to stay positive and not believe I’ve set myself up for failure.
I glance down the marina dock again, looking for Phoenix’s dark head of hair.
Nothing.
It feels like I’ve been waiting for a while for him to show up. I reach into my back pocket for my phone. There’s a text on the home screen that sends my hopes and dreams into a deep dive.
Phoenix
Jane, I’m sorry for the late notice, but some things have come up today that prevent me from joining you on your boat. Thank you for your understanding.
My mouth drops. “Thank you for your understanding?”
His text sounds like something he’d send to a business partner, not a woman he was about to spend the day with.
Stood up again.
Jane
Yeah, no worries.
That’s as cordial of a response as I can muster.
I drop my phone onto the captain’s chair and head to the bow of the boat, leaning over the side to untie the buoy from the dock.
“Well, if it isn’t Pollyanna.”
Who else but Walker would be crouching next to my boat? This is just so freaking typical of my life right now. It’s moments like this that make me wish I didn’t live on such a small island.
I glance up, and my eyes narrow at the site of Walker’s glistening arms and chest. He looks like he just jumped off the front cover ofMen’s Health. His running shorts are short, giving me the perfect view of his quads—he could cut diamonds with those things.
“Perfect timing.” He smiles.
The only thing perfect about this moment is Walker’s six-pack.
My focus goes back to unwinding the rope.Just keep yourself busy.
“I was going for a run and thought I saw you down here.”
“Yep, it’s me.” I move to the back of the boat, unlooseningthe second tie. When that’s done, I go to the wheel, put the motors in neutral, and turn the key.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, do you mind giving me a push-off?”
“Where are you going?” His foot presses against the side, nudging the boat slowly away from the dock.
