Page 55 of The Problem with Perfect

I glance over to Stace, finding her watching me with a smile. I want to tell her there’s no way he looks at me like this—like I’m a piece of meat he wants to devour—but I keep my mouth shut. I can barely admit tomyselfthat I’m looking at Rusty this way.

His muscles flex as he drops it down to the ground next to the boat, and he glances at me with a smile. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” I say it almost shyly, and I want to kick myself.

Rusty chuckles and takes a step into the boat, lifting the cooler with him. Once it’s securely on the ground, he leans down to me, slipping his hand behind my neck and kissing me on the lips. It doesn’t surprise me as much as the first time, but it packs just as much punch.

“Missed you this morning,” I tell him, the words slipping out of my mouth naturally, as if I really did miss him when I woke up.

Did I?

“Sorry, just had a few things to get done. But I’ll make it up to you.” He says the last part with a grin then turns to look at Stace. “Good to see you again.”

She nods. “You, too.”

“We were just talking about how Stace is nervous to get in the water.”

“Oh, no, really?” Rusty shakes his head. “It’s so worth it. You’re gonna have a blast.”

Stace just shrugs. “We’ll see.”

The three of us each start talking about what we have in our coolers—Rusty obviously brought the beers, and Stace and Connor packed snacks—and the general weather for the day until Connor gets back a few minutes later. He thumps down into the boat, his sunglasses firmly in place, and steps right up to Rusty.

“Fuller,” he says.

As if it’s possible, Rusty seems to stand a little taller as he extends his hand.

“Pruitt.”

They shake, and for whatever reason, it feels like I just witnessed two rival football captains sizing each other up before a game. Thankfully, the vibe between them eases as they step away from each other. Connor heads to the helm, and Rusty sits down next to me and drapes his arm around my shoulders while Stace walks over and slips into one of the seats at the bow.

“Alright, time for a day on the lake,” Connor says, switching the engine on and backing the boat out of its slip. “North Bay?”

“Sounds good,” Rusty answers.

We’re mostly quiet as we travel through the low wake zone surrounding the marina, just enjoying the sun and the light breeze from being out on the water. When we pick up speed, Rusty’s embrace grows more secure around my shoulders, tucking me in tighter to his side, and I don’t complain, enjoying the feeling of being next to him.

After about fifteen minutes, Connor drops the speed of the boat, and we cruise slowly into North Bay, an area of the lake that is reserved just for town residents. It’s not a policed area or anything, but you have to have a Cedar Point address on your driver’s license to be eligible for a pass, and non-residents will get a fine if they’re found in the vicinity.

I’ve never been a fan of exclusivity—I am definitely a ‘the more the merrier’ kind of girl—but there is something really nice about being able to enjoy a quieter area on the lake during busier months, andespeciallyon a holiday weekend when the lake feels overly full. We passed a few party boats on our way here, and I have no interest in dropping anchor near one of those.

“This a good spot?” Connor asks once we’ve gotten to a little cove that’s fairly empty about 10 yards or so from one of the community beaches. We all nod, and a few seconds later I hear the release of the anchor as it begins its descent to the lake floor.

“God, this whole town is so gorgeous,” Stace says, coming back to where we’re sitting, her hair wild and untamed from the wind that whipped it around as she sat in the front. “The trees and the lake and the rocks…I mean, look at that house.”

I glance over, spotting my favorite house on the lake, an older home with a kind of Nantucket, east coast vibe and a large grassy yard that extends before it hits shoreline.

“That’s one of the only houses on the lake that’s built on a beach,” I tell her. “It’s my favorite.”

She shakes her head and tugs open the cooler she and Connor brought. “Absolutely gorgeous. It has such a warm vibe about it. I wouldloveto live in a house like that.”

“Nah, you don’t want that,” Connor says, shaking his head and looking like he smelled something bad. “I can only imagine the maintenance problems you get with a house that old.”

Stace rolls her eyes. “But that’s just one of those things you deal with because you love the house.”

He shrugs. “I’d want something much newer. I don’t want to deal with any problems, or anything super old.”

“It’s all about how you look at it,” Rusty interjects. “Newer construction mightseemto have less problems, but really it’s all just masked with money and flash, and a lot of times, that covers up poor construction or shabby materials. Older builds have proven they pass the test of time and are more reliable.”

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