Page 12 of Making New Plans

“As that’s my decision, not yours, don’t worry about it.”

“But you’re going to sell it, aren’t you?”

He pressed his lips together and fixed me with a stony stare. My stomach twisted. I knew the answer.

“Why?” I asked.

I thought he might brush me off again like he did yesterday, but after a few moments of his eyes boring into my soul, he responded. Well, sort of.

“I need to. End of story.”

I blinked at him. How could he be so callous? Didn’t he realize that he was thoughtlessly holding our futures over a cliff edge? Maybe we could survive a sale. Maybe new owners would keep us on. But that future was so uncertain that I couldn’t fathom it.

“Then you’re wrong,” I said harshly. My hands thumped onto my hips. “It is my job to worry about the future of this lodge and the people that work in it. I’ve been doing it for years. Really well, I might add. And if you think you’re going to trample all of that hard work, then you’d better be prepared for the fight of your life.”

His bare foot nudged my boot when he stepped forward again. My breath and my heartbeat raced each other, and my eyes tracked downward, getting in one more forbidden glimpse of his muscled everything.

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” he said in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear him over the river. He was so close I could smell his sweat mixing with the fresh air. “Especially since you’ll lose.”

Outraged, and utterly confused about my conflicting reactions toward him, I wished I were strong enough to fling him into the river. That would solve all the problems. My hands even came up and flexed like they couldn’t wait to clench around his stupidly toned biceps and drag him into the water.

An impulse that hadn’t gone unnoticed as he glanced at my now-balled hands. “Were you going to punch me?” he asked incredulously, the darkness suddenly melting from his brown eyes.

My tone iced over. “Throw you actually. Into the river.”

Something flickered across his face. Something almost like amusement. But his mouth remained unbending. Would it kill him to smile? If so, he’d live to be a hundred. Then he’d probably crack a smile at some old lady trying to brain him with her cane and promptly die.

“You could certainly try,” he said, throwing his arms open as if asking for a big hug.

And oh, how I wanted to. Not give him a hug, of course. Throw him in the river. For a multitude of crazy reasons.

Instead, I settled for a biting remark. “I could, but I, at least, can get my way without hurting other people.”

His arms dropped back to his sides, his scowl back in full force. “Think of me however you want, but I am getting rid of the lodge because it can go to hell for all I care.”

Something behind those grim words made my heart shiver.

But he continued, “Obviously, we’re stuck in this together, so unless you’re feeling a bit masochistic, you might want to rethink fighting me every step of the way.”

“You first.”

For the briefest of brief moments, he glanced down in the vicinity of my mouth. Then he shook his head and stormed down the beach before I could figure out if I were hallucinating.

Knees suddenly weak, I promptly sat in the cold sand. I usually wasn’t that confrontational, like ever, and it’d happened twice in as many days. But that man infuriated and flustered me like no other. I was used to being the fix-it person. The problem solver. The mediator. But for once, I couldn’t see an easy way out of this, much less a happy one.

One good thing did come of it though. Besides a pleasant memory of sweaty muscles that I would lock away in a tiny corner of my mind with one of those hotel door signs that read Do Not Disturb. All that fire from our argument had cooled and hardened into an iron will.

Turning this lodge into a beautiful vacation destination was my dream, and I couldn’t let him take that from me. I could never make his dad see reason, but Hunter Erickson would see things my way, even if it took every day of the next month to do it.

5

Hunter

The shower scalded my numb skin.

After I’d escaped Chloe and her disconcerting blue eyes and accusations, I’d stood by the river for a minute or two. It took several minutes for me to register the cold seeping through my skin into my bones, forcing me to sneak back to my room. I’d been warm through my morning Taekwondo routine. I’d gotten even warmer somehow during my confrontation with Chloe. Especially when I’d been so close, I could’ve wrapped her ponytail around my fist and given it a good tug. Imagining her tilted face and gasp of surprise had me blasting the water on cold.

I closed my eyes and turned my face directly into the shower spray, my mind lingering on the many ways her face expressed her emotions. Especially when she’d thought about throwing me into the river. Those clenched fists. Her eyes sparkling with fury. Her long, lithe body taut with outrage. I’d wanted her to attempt throwing me as much as she had. If only for the chance to drag her down with me.

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