Page 28 of Muskoka Blue

“What can I say? We’re full of surprises.”

“That’s for sure.”

She smiled that smile that made his heart glow, and he grinned back. It was nice to be back to this ease, the drama of two days ago a distant memory. She reached down, grabbed a tube of sunscreen, and smeared it on her face and arms. After a minute, she turned. “Am I rubbed in?”

He pointed to the side of his nose. “Apart from here.”

She rubbed in the tiny smudge of white. “Better?”

“There’s some on your forehead.”

“Really?” Her brow creased as she dabbed at the non-existent mark.

“Okay, Princess, now on your cheek.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“Hey, believe what you like.” He held up his hands. “Just wanna be helpful here.”

She picked up her glass. “So do I.”

The water caught him front and center. “Ah!”

“Just being helpful.” She laughed with that husky burble he’d heard so rarely. “I thought you looked hot.”

He stared at her. Then snickered.

The green eyes widened and—there it was, that cute blush. “I meant warm, Dan. Honestly.” She jammed her hat on and dived back into her book, embarrassment highlighting her cheeks as she slapped over a page, muttering to herself.

Dan wrung out his saturated T-shirt as best he could, then settled into his seat. He glanced at Sarah again, at her straw hat tipping forward as she squinted at the page. Between the past few days’ robust discussions, the laughter, and the relaxed nature of swimming, fishing, and movies, she was becoming a good friend. After all her initial icy spikiness, he now appreciated her sassy spunk and spontaneity. He liked her. He’d not had a female friend like this since—well, not ever.

She sighed, closing the book. “It’s so hot I can’t even read. I really need some ice cream. I don’t suppose Mr. Fit and Healthy has any lying around the house?” She eyed him hopefully.

“Nope, nor in the freezer either. But…” He studied her as an idea sprang to life. “I could get you some—for a price.”

“Name it. I’ll do anything. I need something chocolaty and cold.”

“Wait here.” He hurried downstairs and hauled two bikes from the basement. He checked them over, found the helmets, grabbed his wallet and phone, and motioned her outside.

Her jaw sagged. “You’re kidding.”

Dan grinned, then handed her the smaller helmet. “Nope. It’s the only way.”

“What about your car?”

“What about ‘I’ll do anything’?”

“I see you gotta earn your fat food around here,” she muttered, placing the helmet on.

“Sure do.” He swung up. “C’mon, follow me.”

* * *

Followhim she’d gladly do, as long as it led to a chocolate sundae. Sarah smiled. For someone who hadn’t ridden a bike in years, she was doing okay. Despite some initial wobbles, she hadn’t fallen off and was keeping up. Sort of. And rushing through the sticky heat did have a cooling effect. It was even kind of enjoyable.

She coasted down another long hill, feeling as free as a ten-year-old kid. Her hair whipped behind her as the sun tried to penetrate the extra-thick layer of sunscreen she’d applied before. She chuckled. Dan’s sense of humor was almost as warped as hers. She thought back to the latest hammock catapult mishap. Thank goodness Dan had seen the funny side, because she hadn’t laughed like that in years. It’d felt cleansing, like the old tidemark of bitterness was being washed away.

He turned. “You having fun?”

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