After breakfast, Julia and her friends joined the large crowd of guests gathered in the lobby, where Mrs. Weatherfork welcomed them again. Today the resort owner was decked out in a lime-colored wrap dress topped by a creamy pale green scarf.
“She looks like a piece of key lime pie,” Andie muttered.
Julia swallowed a giggle as the outlandishly attired woman proceeded to launch into a lengthy history lesson of the hotel, including a detailed description of the original oak balustrades lining the foyer staircase and balcony, courtesy of some nineteenth-century lumber baron who made all his money chopping down half the forests of Wisconsin. Then it was on to the terrace, for more detailed description of the brickwork patio and stone steps. The speeches continued at the gazebo, the tennis and croquet courts, and the garden conservatory.
After viewing the resort’s private pond, outfitted with several canoes and paddle boats, they were now making their way up a winding gravel trail. Julia tapped her notepad irritably. She’d been planning to take some notes for her review, but so far, the “tour” had been one endless, boring lecture.
Boring and exhausting. Before hitting the trail, Mrs. Weatherfork had commandeered a golf cart for herself and her contingent of corgis. The woman even had little car seats for each of them. Meanwhile, the guests were forced to trudge along on foot.
“How long is this tour supposed to last?” Julia asked, pushing back the heavy curtain of her hair, which had been getting wilder and frizzier by the moment in the growing humidity. Soon she’d be fluffier than Mrs. Whackadoodle’s pampered pets. Julia glanced up at the golf cart, envious of the four fur balls bouncing along in contented comfort, their owner’s long silk scarf flapping in a breeze Julia had yet to feel. “We’ve been walking for hours,” she whined.
“It’s only been seventy-five minutes.” Andie laughed, checking her Fitbit. “That’s barely even one hour.”
“Well, it feels like ten,” Julia grumbled, as she paused to rest in the shade of a massive pine tree.
“You should have eaten more at breakfast,” Andie chided, adding, “and that sedentary lifestyle of yours isn’t helping.” Andie kept walking, short legs eating up the path with brisk efficiency. “I’ve been telling you for years to get out and move more.”
“If I strangled her right now, would that be considered murder or self-defense?” Julia wondered aloud, watching as her sporty friend outpaced the corgi caravan and disappeared around another curve in the trail.
Kat snorted. “You’d have to catch her first.”
“Good point.” Julia sighed and let Kat pull her forward. “What happened to your Bridget accent?”
“I got tired of it.” Kat shrugged. “Besides, it doesn’t matter, since Bridget’s boy toy isn’t around anyway. I haven’t seen Zach since breakfast.”
“Maybe he’s not fond of nature,” Julia suggested.
“Maybe he’s not fond of me,” Kat countered.
“Please. He was all over you last night.” Julia swatted at a mosquito attempting to make her its next victim. “Ack! Why are we even out in the woods? The first part of the tour made sense. Even though we were getting buried in details, I get seeing all the great stuff the resort has to offer. But I don’t understand how a nature walk can be considered part of the rom-com experience.”
“Are you kidding?” Kat shook her head. “Think of all the romantic comedies that have characters taking a walk around Central Park, or going on hikes, or strolling through a garden.”
“Yeah, but aren’t those romantic walks supposed to happen with, oh, I don’t know…” Julia upped the snark ratio in her voice. “Someone you want to get romantic with?”
“Not always.” Kat sidled up next to Julia and put an arm around her waist. “Sometimes it’s a chance for a group of friends to catch up and talk about who they’re interested in getting romantic with.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone around here who matches that description, so…”
“Come on. We both know who you want to get romantic with,” Kat teased.
“I’m not here looking for my soul mate.” Julia’s face scrunched into a stubborn pout as she stared down at her notepad. “I’m here to do a job.”
“If you say so,” Kat muttered.
“What was that?” Julia asked, her voice sharp.
“Nothing.” Kat shrugged.
“I know you, Kat. That little comment was not nothing.” Julia was too crabby to let this slide. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Fine.” Kat took a breath. “I know you’re hoping for the same thing I am.”
“You do, huh?” Julia stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “And what’s that?”
“To experience all the over-the-top, wonderfully cheesy, cute, and adorable moments we see in rom-coms. We want to live the fantasy.” Kat clasped her hands together. “To have a real meet-cute. To stumble into love. To find the one.”
“Yeah, but it’s still a fantasy.” Julia snorted. “I don’t expect to actually find ‘the one’ here.”
“Don’t you hope you might, though?” Kat pressed. “Even just a little? It’s okay to admit it.”
At first, Julia didn’t answer. She started walking again in silence. Yesterday, she would have vehemently denied the possibility, but now, after meeting Luke …
“Fine,” she admitted. “Maybe a little.”
To her credit, Kat was gracious in her victory. She didn’t gloat; she simply gave Julia a small, knowing smile.
“What are you two whispering about back there?” Andie called from where she’d stopped to wait for them.
“I was just telling our girl Jules here she can still have some fun while working on her review.”
“I’m not saying I don’t think I should be having fun,” Julia protested. “I just don’t agree with some of Kat’s suggestions for what qualifies as fun. Not under these circumstances, anyway.”
“Under what circumstances, then?” Andie asked.
“Huh?”
Andie popped open the sports bottle she was carrying. “I’m assuming the circumstances being discussed involve a certain someone?”
“You know they do,” Kat agreed. “What’s in there?” She pointed at the bottle Andie was chugging.
“Vodka.”
“Really?” Kat grabbed it and took a swig. “Tease! This is just water.”
“You honestly thought I could chug vodka like that?” Andie shook her head. “I don’t know if I should be insulted or proud.” She grabbed her bottle back and turned to Julia. “What I’m hearing is that you feel weird about engaging in any … What’s the word I’m looking for?”
“Hanky-panky?” Kat suggested.
“That works.” Andie grinned. “You want to avoid any hanky-panky because you feel it would be inappropriate, given the circumstances of who you are and why you’re here.”
“Exactly.” Julia exhaled. “I’m glad you understand.”
“Yeah, but here’s the thing. I don’t.” Andie took another sip of water and shook her head. “I mean I would understand, except that I watched the two of you together last night and he was giving you the look.”
“What look?”
“You know the one. The one when he looks at you, he looks at you.”
Julia stopped walking, hands on her hips. “What are you talking about?”
“Kat, you know what I’m talking about, right?”
“Yep.” Kat promptly confirmed. “Everyone knows the look.”
“Apparently not everyone,” Julia snapped. She was hot and irritable and didn’t want to have this conversation. “Are you sure that isn’t vodka in there?”
Both of her friends stared at her with another kind of look. One Julia definitely knew and didn’t like. It was a look that said, You know exactly what we’re talking about but you’re pretending you don’t because you want to avoid facing the feelings that come with acknowledging you know what we are talking about.
Because she did know.
As if reading her mind, Andie stepped closer. “This is not vodka, I am not drunk, and you know exactly what look we’re talking about.” She glanced behind Julia and lowered her voice. “I know you know because he’s giving you the look right now. But I don’t have to tell you that, because I bet you can feel it.”
“That’s ridiculous. I have no idea what you mean.” But even as Julia denied it, she knew. Because she did feel it. A tingling awareness. Luke had joined the group taking the walking tour. Unable to resist, she glanced over her shoulder. Yep. There he was. Quite a distance back but easy to spot. His long legs loping lazily along. Gray gaze on her.
“He’s staring because he’s probably wondering what the hell the three of us are doing, standing here in the middle of the trail,” she deflected. “Or maybe he’s horrified by the circus act my hair is becoming in this freaking humidity. It’s like a car wreck. He can’t look away.” Julia fanned herself with her notepad, trying to circulate some cooler air. “We’re at a lakefront resort. Where’s that legendary Lake Michigan breeze?”
“I’d say someone is getting worked up,” Kat observed.
“Yes, she does seem a bit hot and bothered,” Andie agreed. “You’d never guess what I caught her doing this morning.” She turned to Julia, gaze speculative. “I thought you were hangry, but maybe you’re horn—”
“You know what? I am hot. And you’re bothering me. Why don’t you two go on without me.” Julia waved to her friends. “I think I’m going to head back to the hotel.”
“But—” Kat began.
Andie tugged on Kat’s arm. “It’s fine. Let her go.” She waved at Julia. “Go ahead. We’ll see you later.”
Julia felt like an ass for blowing up. Part of her wanted to take back her words and stick with her friends. Not to mention do her job and participate in the scheduled resort activities, no matter how boring or irritating they turned out to be. But she’d made too big a stink to change her mind now, so she turned around and began retracing her steps, nodding and sharing an awkward smile as she passed other guests on the trail.
She couldn’t blame her attitude on the weather. Or not eating enough at breakfast. Or even the frustrating interruption this morning. No, she knew much of her reaction was driven by the desire to prove to them that she was right and they were wrong.
Lurking beneath that urge was fear. Fear that her friends were the ones who were right. That it wasn’t just Andie and Kat who held the outlandish belief that it might be possible to find true love at this rom-com fantasyland. That maybe she did, too.
Deeper still was hope. Hope that not only could true love happen in a place like this but that it could happen anywhere. That it was real. Julia twisted the map in her hands. That was the scariest part of all of this. To discover that despite everything she thought she knew about herself, this hope existed when she thought it never could.
“Hey,” Luke called. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she growled.
“If nothing is wrong, then why are you ditching your friends?” he asked, reaching an arm out to stop her as she was about to pass him on the trail. “Did something happen? Are you not having fun?”
“I didn’t ditch my friends,” she argued, tugging her arm out of his grip. She stuttered to a halt. “Well, I did. But nothing’s wrong. They’re fine.”
“Are you fine?” he asked gently, eyes searching hers.
Julia shook her head. The way he was looking at her turned her thoughts fuzzy, made it hard to think. “I’m a little tired, that’s all. I’m going back to the hotel.”
“But—” he began, glancing up ahead toward the others.
“You too?” she snapped. “What is up with everyone and their buts?”
“Um…”
“Sorry,” she groaned. “That didn’t come out right.”
He chuckled. “Mind if I join you?”
“Do you mind walking with a harpy who might shred your face if you say the wrong thing?” Julia countered.
He blinked.
Julia shoved her notepad in her pocket. The urge to be alone and stew in her little pot of grumpy angst was strong. It was a safe shadow she could go hide in. But the thought of spending time with Luke was like a candle in that shadow. A welcome, cozy light that she wanted to cuddle up with.
“What if I promise not to say anything?” he asked. “Is my face safe?”
“I suppose.” A reluctant smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. The candle burned brighter.
They continued down the path in comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by occasional birdsong and the crunch of their shoes on the gravel trail. Again, she noted how his long, lean legs stretched lazily; his pace could at best be described as a causal stroll. Julia shook her head. “How does someone so tall walk so slowly?”
“Am I allowed to answer?”
“Shut up.” She smacked his arm.
“Okay.” He walked on in silence.
“No.” Julia swatted him again. “I meant ‘Shut up’ as in ‘Shut up, yes, you can talk to me.’”
“Hm. No clue why that response might be confusing.” He dodged a third smack and grinned. “I think the question should be: How does someone so short walk so fast? The three of you were way ahead of everyone else.”
“Hey, I was just trying to keep up with my friend.”
“My point exactly. Her legs are even shorter than yours.”
Julia giggled.
“I like it when you laugh.”
His abrupt confession caught her off guard. Julia’s chest tightened, heart rattling against her ribs. She stared at the ground, trying to get a handle on the sudden burst of light that bloomed inside her at his words. The candle had become a bonfire.
“I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “Is it weird that I told you that?”
“It’s fine. It’s not weird.” It wasn’t weird, and it was more than fine. It was wonderful. It was simple and honest and … real. She kept her gaze trained on their feet, her shorter legs seeming to take two steps for every one of his. She laughed again and could sense more than see the grin that spread across his face in response. The bright, toasty-warm feeling expanded.
Meanwhile, the trail ahead dimmed. Julia glanced up. “Uh-oh.” The sky was turning an ominous color, the summer sun swallowed by a swath of dark clouds. “That can’t be good.” Abruptly, the cool breeze Julia had been longing for swept over her, the wind kicking up and making the trees lining the path shudder.
Luke cursed and reached for her hand. “There’s a storm blowing in from the lake. We better pick up the pace.”
If it had taken two of Julia’s steps for every one of his before, it took at least double that now, maybe triple. But he kept a firm grip on her hand as they raced along the trail. They were running into the wind, the force of it stinging Julia’s cheeks and sending her hair into a frenzy.
It felt good. And when the skies opened and a torrent of rain spilled down, drenching her instantly, that felt good, too. Fresh and clean and cool. Julia inhaled deeply, wanting to absorb the cleansing newness deep inside.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Luke muttered
“I am.” She gulped more air. “But I gotta slow down.”
“Oh, thank God.” He slowed his pace. Beneath the thin cotton of his shirt, his chest heaved. “Man, I’m out of shape.”
“You’re not the only one,” Julia admitted, bending over, hands on her knees as she tried to force her heart to shift from a gallop to a trot. By the time she got her breath back and her pulse down, the initial fury of the storm had passed, taking the fierce wind and heavy rains and leaving a soft, steady drizzle in its wake.
“Oh, I’ll be feeling the effects of that for the next month at least,” he assured her. “It was kind of fun, though.” Luke smiled, pushing rain-slicked hair back from his face.
“Yeah.” Julia straightened. “It was fun.” And even though her lungs were once again at full capacity, she was still finding it hard to breathe when he was smiling at her like that.
Maybe her friends had a point.
Maybe she should allow herself some fun.
Maybe even a little hanky-panky.
She peered into the forest lining the trail. “Do you think we should look for a spot to get out of the rain?”
“I’m pretty sure the worst of it is over. Besides…” He glanced down at his soaked clothes. “It’s not like we’ve got anything left to keep dry.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” She kicked out a leg and wiggled her foot. “I think one toe is still pretty dry.”
“You want to seek shelter in the woods for one toe?”
“Um…” Okay, so the guy wasn’t very good at taking a hint. Or she wasn’t very good at flirting. Probably a bit of both.
“Oh.” A beat later, his eyes lit with understanding. “Oh, right. Your toe.”
Julia almost laughed, he looked so much like an actual lightbulb had clicked on inside his head.
“Yes, of course.” He reached for her hand. “We must do what we can to keep that toe dry.” Luke stepped off the path and slipped. “Whoops-a-daisies.” He straightened and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Careful. The grass is slick.”
“Did you just say ‘Whoops-a-daisies’?”
“Definitely not.” Luke cleared his throat, squinting into the woods. “I think I see a fallen log near that evergreen.” He pointed out the spot. “Will that do?”
“Sure.” Julia suppressed a grin.
They walked together, moving gingerly across the damp forest floor. Once they were both settled, Luke asked, “Well, was our mission to protect your toe from the elements successful?”
“Um…” Julia wiggled her foot again. “Yes. Thank you.”
An awkward silence descended. She glanced around, taking in their impromptu sanctuary. Despite the recent downpour, the log was mostly dry, nestled as it was beneath a big pine tree, its branches thick with needles.
“It’s very cozy here.”
“It is,” Luke agreed.
“Smells like Christmas.”
“It does.”
More awkward silence.
Between the soft thrum of the rain around them and the warm, quiet closeness of their shelter, the moment had the potential to be incredibly romantic. If this were a movie. But it’s not, Julia reminded herself. So, instead, the moment was awkward and uncomfortable and why did she think she could do this?
At some point in the middle of her internal wallowing about all the ways this moment could be romantic and wasn’t, Julia realized Luke was looking at her.
And it was that look.
Like Andie said, she could feel it.
Julia pretended to be fascinated with the texture of the bark on the log, the pattern of fallen pine needles on the ground—anything and everything that allowed her to avoid looking at Luke—because she was afraid that if she looked at him, he would stop looking at her. And she didn’t want him to stop looking at her the way he was right now, because she liked the way it felt too much.
“Is something wrong?” Luke asked.
“Huh?”
“You won’t look at me.”
“I’m fine.” Julia winced. She was so bad at this. “I was just looking at the, um, log. It’s a very nice log. Very sturdy. Makes a very nice place to sit.”
Oh, God, she had verbal diarrhea. She cringed inwardly. Why was she thinking about diarrhea right now? “And the trees. I’ve never seen such pine trees. The branches are so big and thick and—”
“Can I kiss you?”
Julia froze. She met his gaze. And now she was looking at him and he was looking at her and yes it was with that look. The one that made her feel beautiful and perfect and precious and amazing and oh shit she didn’t answer him yet, did she?
“Um, okay.”
He leaned closer, and for a split second, Julia wished he wouldn’t kiss her, because she wanted to hold on to this moment, this perfect moment, before it was ruined by a kiss that couldn’t possibly live up to the romantic promise currently vibrating between them.
But then his lips brushed hers and it was … She closed her eyes. It was … magic.
Julia had been kissed before. She’d kissed and been kissed. She’d had some bad kisses, a lot of okay kisses, and even a few good kisses, but she’d never had a magic kiss. One that she felt all the way through her, from lips to toes and back up again. And he hadn’t even actually really kissed her yet, just touched his lips to hers.
When he finally did kiss her, it was soft, and slow, and sweet. He kissed her over and over, brief, delicious sips of contact. Gradually, his kisses became longer, his mouth pressing firmer to hers, lingering, the tip of his tongue gliding along the curve of her lower lip as if learning its shape. Julia was intensely aware of each shift in movement, mentally cataloguing every detail of their kiss.
I am having a hyper-romantic super-hot kiss in the freaking rain!
And it only got hotter. When his mouth opened over hers, tongue slipping inside, all coherent thought evaporated. Poof. Gone. Julia no longer had a brain, just a body. A body that was tingling and aching and yearning. She moaned and gripped his shoulders, chasing his tongue with hers. His fingers sifted through her still-wet hair, palm cradling the back of her neck, while his other hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.
His hand moved from her neck down her back, fingers stroking her spine. Julia shivered.
“Cold?” Luke’s voice was a husky whisper.
Which was more sound than Julia could produce right now. She shook her head.
His lips grazed her throat and she shivered again.
“You sure?” he asked, his breath a warm caress on her neck.
She moaned. Her vocal cords seemed to have forgotten how to do anything but make incoherent noises.
Luke smiled. She could feel the curve of his mouth against her skin. He leaned back and gazed down at her. “Not in the mood to talk, huh?”
She might have tried to respond to that, but he gripped her hips and pulled her onto his lap, her thighs spreading, pressing against his. Her position on top of him put them almost at eye level with each other. Julia took the lead this time, controlling the kiss. As her mouth moved over his, a wordless groan of pleasure escaped him, sending power and excitement surging inside her.
Hands braced on his shoulders, she rose up, her knees pressing into the bark. Straddling him on the log in her shorts should have been uncomfortable as hell, and maybe it was, but she was too busy enjoying herself to notice. She deepened the kiss, losing herself in the feel of her mouth on his, of his hands on her skin, cocooned by the cool scent of pine and the warm, soft patter of summer rain.
His fingers dug into her hips, and they both moaned, tension spiraling between them. Hell yes. This had to be the hottest thing she’d ever done in her life. Wanting more, Julia leaned into him. She realized her mistake a moment too late as their center of balance shifted on the log, causing them both to slide backward.
Oh shit, we’re going over.
“Whoops-a-daisies!” Luke yelped.
He hit the ground first, back landing with a thud, Julia crashing down face-first on top of him. They lay there, stunned, staring at each other in openmouthed silence as the details of the moment slowly registered.
A giggle bubbled up inside her, quickly turning into a full-blown belly laugh. “I knew you said, ‘Whoops-a-daisies’!”
From beneath her, Luke heaved an aggrieved sigh. But when her laughter finally tapered off so she could take a breath, he said, eyes twinkling, “Good thing I like your laugh so much.”
“Good thing you’re so funny.”
He grimaced and she tittered. “I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing another giggle and rolling off him. “Are you hurt?”
“Aside from my pride?” He sat up. “I don’t think so.” He patted the ground. “Luckily, the rain softened things up a bit.” Luke got to his feet and offered her a hand.
Julia stood and wiped at the dirt and pine needles clinging to her. She realized her notepad had fallen out of her pocket and glanced around frantically. She caught a glimpse of paper amid the detritus on the forest floor and dove.
At the same time, Luke bent and reached for something on the ground. They narrowly missed colliding again. Julia stood and then realized she’d grabbed his notebook. She recognized it from the seagull encounter yesterday. “I believe this is yours?” She held it out to him.
“And this must be yours,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief as he held up her notepad.
Julia controlled the instinct to snatch it out of his hand, managing to nod calmly as she traded with him.
He watched as she tucked her notepad away, mouth twitching. “I’d say this makes us even.”
“Excuse me?”
“I knocked you over once, now you’ve knocked me over. We’re even,” Luke explained, sliding his notebook back into his pocket.
“Aha! You admit that first fall on the beach was your fault,” Julia teased, crossing her arms.
“I do. And I am sorry,” he said, rubbing the base of his spine. “Even though I seem to be the one taking the brunt of these falls.”
Julia snorted and followed him as he made his way around the log and back to the trail.
“That didn’t sound like a very sympathetic snort,” Luke observed. He’d reached the path but began walking the direction opposite to the way they’d been headed when the storm hit.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the hotel.” He blinked at her. “Isn’t that where you want to go?”
“Yeah, but—”
“The trail is a loop.” He pointed at the bend ahead. “You were almost back at the resort when you decided to turn around earlier.”
“What?” In a matter of minutes, the trees began to thin and Julia could see the bright shingles of the resort’s roof shining in the late morning sun. Yep, the trail made a loop through the forest. Between the thick line of trees and the way the path curved, it had been impossible to tell. She supposed it served her right for throwing a temper tantrum. She sighed. “Why didn’t you say something before?”
“I started to.” He shrugged. “But you seemed pretty determined you knew where you were going.”
Julia bit her lip. She did tend to think she was right and everyone else was wrong.
“The thing is,” he began, “I apologized for running into you on the beach, but I won’t apologize for not telling you about the trail.” Luke stepped closer, chest rising as he took a deep breath. “I don’t regret where this change in direction ended up.” He smiled at her, mouth curving with wicked unrepentance.
“I’m sorry for knocking you off the log.” Julia returned his smile. “But you’re right.” She acknowledged the truth in his words. “I don’t mind where we ended up, either.”
She’d been wrong about the path, and maybe she’d been wrong about Luke, too. That’s what Andie and Kat had been trying to tell her, and they were right. Why shouldn’t she have fun while she was here? Like her friends said, that’s what this whole experience was supposed to be about.
“No regrets?” he asked, entwining his fingers with hers.
“No regrets,” she agreed, enjoying the feel of her hand in his entirely too much.
Not yet, anyway.
Julia couldn’t stop that thought from entering her brain.
She’d been willing to admit her friends might be right about embracing her time here, allowing herself to have fun with Luke and truly experience the place she was supposed to be reviewing … but she still wasn’t sure about the rest of it.
How could she be? It all seemed too good to be real.