Page 92 of A Summer Mismatch
“Do you have it tight?” she asked.
“I do,” he replied and at the same time, he tugged.
The problem was, she hadn’t completely let go of the oar and it yanked her along with it. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal. In. Any. Other. Canoe. But this one pitched to the side with the shifting of her weight, and before she knew what was happening, the canoe had tipped over and she was in the lake.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Julia
Don’tpanic.Alligatorscansmell fear.
I’m pretty sure.
Unfortunately the thought only made her panic more.
She kicked off the bottom of the pond and brought her head out of the water.
“Julia! Here!”
A hand came down beside her and she grabbed it. It pulled her upward while she hooked her leg over the side of the canoe and flung her body in as fast as she could. Panic still streamed through her. Did she have all her arms, legs, feet, hands? She needed her hands to write!
Her heart raced.
“Julia. You’re fine. Look at me. You’re fine. There are no alligators in this lake. Aaron keeps it free for Sweetie.”
She blinked away the haze of panic and saw that she was sprawled on the bottom of her grandpa’s canoe, his hand gripping hers.
“But Grandma made it sound like…” She glanced around quickly. “Where’s Logan?”
Grandpa pointed to where Logan was working on tipping the canoe back upright. She scrambled up and watched him flip it over and hoist himself up. The canoe wobbled like it might tip again, but he held firmly to the two sides to balance himself.
“Are you okay?” he called to her as his canoe drifted farther from them.
“I am. You?”
“Yeah.” He swiped at the water on his face. “You didn’t by chance keep a hold of your oar?”
She shook her head, and with dread looked to her grandpa, whose hands were empty as well. “We now have two canoes stuck on the lake. Without oars.”
“Not my best rescue mission to date,” Logan said.
Grandpa scoffed.
“It’s not his fault, Grandpa,” she said, knowing she sounded more peeved than she needed to be for what amounted to an accident.
“I never said it was,” he replied, holding his hands up. She noticed that this canoe was significantly steadier and newer. At least that was something.
“It Must Have Been Love” from Roxette blared next. Someone must have downloaded a break-up play list. What she couldn’t figure out was why they were blasting it from the bridge, but really, that was just one small detail in a series of events that didn’t make much sense.
Logan was using his hands to paddle. “I’ll head back and get some help. You two hang tight.”
She frowned and stared at her grandpa. They hadn’t really spoken since the Watermelon Gala. She’d been avoiding his calls and hadn’t said more than two words to him. An entire kaleidoscope of emotions shifted through her—hurt, anger, betrayal, irritation, and even guilt.
She knew Grandpa didn’t want her with Logan, but she’d sought Logan out anyway. She’d laughed with him. Kissed him. Dreamed about him. Started a whole relationship with him.
And hid all of that from her grandpa, who she knew only wanted what was best for her. But what if what he wanted wasn’t actually what was best?
“It looks like we have some more time out here,” Grandpa said. His skin was starting to look pink.
