fascinated by what you’ve done with the place. This is your childhood home, yes?”
Lois’s ruddy complexion pinked up even more. “Yes! I spent summers here as a child.” Owen could see her ramping up to speak about a subject dear to her. “I can show you the original outbuildings. They’re on the way to the cabin I reserved for you.”
Victor offered his arm, a twinkle in his eye. “That sounds lovely.”
Owen kicked a bit of gravel to get her attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Green, you’re in Bluebird, which is….” She used her free hand to point at a tiny path snaking between some trees. “Through there. And Mr. Grainger, you’re in Sleepy Pines Seven, which is about twenty yards from the Bluebird.”
“Thank you,” Owen said graciously. He picked up his backpack and messenger bag, which had been resting at his feet. “Shall we meet back here in, say, thirty minutes?”
“Make it an hour,” Victor interjected. He squeezed Lois’s arm. “Give everyone time to settle in.” The smug look on his face turned Owen’s stomach.
“Perfect.”
“Sorry. Can I get some caffeine out here? I don’t want to be gauche and ask for a soda machine, but…,” Daniel piped up.
“Your cabin has a fully stocked fridge. Mr. Grainger gave me a list.” Lois seemed eager to get rid of them, and Owen didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Wow, thanks.” Daniel half said it to Lois and half to Owen. He hoisted his satchel over his shoulder. “Let’s go walk up a hill!”
Lois led Victor toward the lake, in the opposite direction. Owen and Daniel headed for the Bluebird. Owen cast a few glances over his shoulder before he was sure Victor was out of sight. Then he reached for Daniel’s hand.
“Soda in my fridge, my own little cabin, hand-holding?” Daniel wove their fingers together. “I feel like I’m being seduced by an eighth-grader at summer camp.”
“What the hell kind of camp did you go to?” Owen laughed and pulled Daniel around a grove of young trees and a flower bush.
“Honey, I went to an all-boys boarding school for eight years.” Daniel’s voice dropped to a husky purr. “What do you think went on?”
“I was a teenage male model—I’m fairly certain you have no stories that might shock me,” he teased.
“Damn.”
The Bluebird sat over the last little rise, a tiny cottage that looked like a fairy-tale abode hit with a ray gun. Owen had fallen in love with the picture on the website: one room, huge brick fireplace, a king-size bed, and big windows. And far away from the other cabins.
“Oh my God, that’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Daniel laughed, squeezing Owen’s hand. “It looks like it fell off a charm bracelet.”
The door was open, so they stepped in, the smell of wood polish and fresh flowers hitting them like a pleasant invitation. The curtains were back, the windows flooding the room in sunlight, and a blue-and-red floral quilt covered the huge bed. Welcoming and perfect and….
Daniel grabbed Owen by the shirt, then pulled him inside, slamming the door behind them with his foot.
Chapter Fifteen
“AND THIS is the barn, where the reception will be. If you check your portfolios, you’ll see some of the designs our planners have come up with,” Lois said, leading the small group through the huge empty space. “It’s 5,400 square feet, reclaimed wood interiors.”
“Barn”—not in any sense of the word in the real world.
The floor-to-ceiling glass panels filled one entire wall, a perfect framing of the lake. Daniel took pictures with his phone, then switched to video, moving away from the group to get a panoramic view of the space. He had some ideas—they would need to bring in light; it was lovely in the daytime, but the windows wouldn’t do much for an evening wedding. No stage, but the corner farthest from the main entrance held some possibilities.
“Daniel is my planner,” Ander was saying. “He’ll take care of
Lois’s ruddy complexion pinked up even more. “Yes! I spent summers here as a child.” Owen could see her ramping up to speak about a subject dear to her. “I can show you the original outbuildings. They’re on the way to the cabin I reserved for you.”
Victor offered his arm, a twinkle in his eye. “That sounds lovely.”
Owen kicked a bit of gravel to get her attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mr. Green, you’re in Bluebird, which is….” She used her free hand to point at a tiny path snaking between some trees. “Through there. And Mr. Grainger, you’re in Sleepy Pines Seven, which is about twenty yards from the Bluebird.”
“Thank you,” Owen said graciously. He picked up his backpack and messenger bag, which had been resting at his feet. “Shall we meet back here in, say, thirty minutes?”
“Make it an hour,” Victor interjected. He squeezed Lois’s arm. “Give everyone time to settle in.” The smug look on his face turned Owen’s stomach.
“Perfect.”
“Sorry. Can I get some caffeine out here? I don’t want to be gauche and ask for a soda machine, but…,” Daniel piped up.
“Your cabin has a fully stocked fridge. Mr. Grainger gave me a list.” Lois seemed eager to get rid of them, and Owen didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Wow, thanks.” Daniel half said it to Lois and half to Owen. He hoisted his satchel over his shoulder. “Let’s go walk up a hill!”
Lois led Victor toward the lake, in the opposite direction. Owen and Daniel headed for the Bluebird. Owen cast a few glances over his shoulder before he was sure Victor was out of sight. Then he reached for Daniel’s hand.
“Soda in my fridge, my own little cabin, hand-holding?” Daniel wove their fingers together. “I feel like I’m being seduced by an eighth-grader at summer camp.”
“What the hell kind of camp did you go to?” Owen laughed and pulled Daniel around a grove of young trees and a flower bush.
“Honey, I went to an all-boys boarding school for eight years.” Daniel’s voice dropped to a husky purr. “What do you think went on?”
“I was a teenage male model—I’m fairly certain you have no stories that might shock me,” he teased.
“Damn.”
The Bluebird sat over the last little rise, a tiny cottage that looked like a fairy-tale abode hit with a ray gun. Owen had fallen in love with the picture on the website: one room, huge brick fireplace, a king-size bed, and big windows. And far away from the other cabins.
“Oh my God, that’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Daniel laughed, squeezing Owen’s hand. “It looks like it fell off a charm bracelet.”
The door was open, so they stepped in, the smell of wood polish and fresh flowers hitting them like a pleasant invitation. The curtains were back, the windows flooding the room in sunlight, and a blue-and-red floral quilt covered the huge bed. Welcoming and perfect and….
Daniel grabbed Owen by the shirt, then pulled him inside, slamming the door behind them with his foot.
Chapter Fifteen
“AND THIS is the barn, where the reception will be. If you check your portfolios, you’ll see some of the designs our planners have come up with,” Lois said, leading the small group through the huge empty space. “It’s 5,400 square feet, reclaimed wood interiors.”
“Barn”—not in any sense of the word in the real world.
The floor-to-ceiling glass panels filled one entire wall, a perfect framing of the lake. Daniel took pictures with his phone, then switched to video, moving away from the group to get a panoramic view of the space. He had some ideas—they would need to bring in light; it was lovely in the daytime, but the windows wouldn’t do much for an evening wedding. No stage, but the corner farthest from the main entrance held some possibilities.
“Daniel is my planner,” Ander was saying. “He’ll take care of
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