Page 19 of Patio Lanterns (The Blue Canoe Cottage #1)

It must’ve been quite some time since anyone remembered to check the mail at the lake. Usually, her mother had mail temporarily forwarded to the cottage over the summer, but in the sudden onset of her illness, it must’ve been forgotten and continued to accumulate.

Robin went to the row of mailboxes and wiggled the key into the seventh slot. She began emptying the box of its wedged-tight contents on top of the pile already in her arms.

“Expecting a little mail today?”

Robin looked up, and her heart skipped a beat. Rick.

He smiled down at her. “Hi.”

“Hey, you.” She smiled back, just as the slick stack toppled and slipped from her grasp. He reached out and caught it before any hit the floor.

“Oh thank you,” she said, rebalancing what few pieces she was left holding.

He grabbed a shopping basket and loaded all of the letters and magazines into it. “No problem. Is all of this for you?”

“Mom. I didn’t realize she had so much that hadn’t been picked up,” she explained. “What are you doing here?”

“I stopped by earlier, but the mail hadn’t come. Thought I’d check again before heading over to your place. Aidan and I are measuring the kitchen cupboards for new cabinet doors.”

“Perfect timing. I was out delivering flyers about Mom’s celebration of life, so I walked over,” she said, nibbling her bottom lip. “If you’re going my way, I’d love a ride.”

“I’d love to give you one,” he growled with a naughty gleam in his eye. By the way Rick was now eyeing her up it seemed like he’d changed his mind about seeing her again.

“So…” she said, her heart fluttering, “are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. You gave me a lot to think about last night.” He winked.

She batted her lashes innocently. “Did I now?”

“Let’s just say you got your point across.” He smiled. “You’re only here for a short time, so maybe we should make the most of that. After all, it would be a shame for us to waste a perfectly good connection.”

“A crying shame,” she said, her heart doing cartwheels.

“And I figure as long as we can be discreet, no one needs to find out, right?”

“It’ll be our little secret,” she told him. “And no more trying to push me at Aidan.”

He smirked. “Aidan who?”

Staring at Rick’s smiling, handsome face was a joy she’d never tire of. Although they’d seen each other the night before, it was as if her eyes had missed him as much as the rest of her.

“I was thinking…” she said at the exact moment he uttered the same words. They both laughed.

“Ladies first,” he said, palm out. “Please.”

“I was thinking we should exchange numbers,” she said. “Being able to text each other could come in handy.”

He grinned, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Honey, you’ve had my number from the moment we met.”

They swapped. Her thumbs tapped on his screen, creating a new contact and dropping her digits. She smiled as she handed it back. “I thought it’d be fun if we had code names for each other. Makes the sneaking around that much sneakier.”

“ Miss July ,” he read aloud.

She licked her lips lustfully. “It is the hottest month after all.”

“I love it,” he said, with a bounce of his eyebrows. “Can you come up with one for me?”

They traded phones again. Robin stared at the blank fields of the contact screen until it finally came to her. “How’s this?”

“ brE71 ?”

“Big Rick Energy,” she clarified. “Seventy-one for your jersey number.”

He beamed. “You Googled me last night, didn’t you?”

“I sure did,” she reported, quite proud of herself as she recited his stats. “Wide receiver Ricky Hunter played a single season with the Hamilton Tiger-Cats before being traded to the B.C. Lions, where he played from ‘94 to 2000.”

“I’m flattered,” he said.

“Finished his career with 553 career receptions for over eighty-four hundred yards andfifty-seven touchdowns.”

He laughed. “C’mon, you’ve got to be kidding. You memorized all that?”

“I’m officially obsessed, Ricky Hunter. You’re like, legendary.”

“I caught a ball and ran with it. It wasn’t like I won the Nobel Peace Prize,” he joked.

“Ooh, and scrolling through photos of you in that tight, ass-hugging uniform?” She fanned her face. “Let’s just say I’m glad I kept one hand free.”

He leaned in closer, raising one eyebrow wickedly as he stared at her lips. “Really got you going, hmm?”

“I have two words for you: thirst trap.” She rested her shoulder against the wall of mailboxes and fell into the depths of his lake blue eyes. She couldn’t wait to shake her pom-poms for the studly football star.

“Ahem,” interrupted Mrs. Crawley.

Where did she come from?

Rick jumped back. “Um… er, good day, Mrs. Crawley. I was just giving Robin here a hand with all her mail.”

The old woman glared hard at Rick. By the suspicious scowl on her face, she wasn’t buying a word of it. She then handed Robin the flyer she’d left behind at the counter. “You wanted this up?”

“Sorry, yes. I was just about to come back for that.” Robin tried to explain, but the truth was, she’d actually forgotten all about it she’d been so distracted by brE71.

“Pushpins are on the board. Knock yourself out.” Before shuffling away, Mrs. Crawley gave Rick the evil eye once more. “Good day to you, Mr. Hunter.”

Rick rolled his eyes at Robin. She bit back a grin as he silently mouthed, “Fuuuuck.”

“Oh, Miss Pelletier, may I see you for a moment?” Mrs. Crawley beckoned.

Robin’s shoulders slumped as her stomach sank. It was like getting caught red-handed smoking in the girls’ room and being sent to the principal’s office all over again. “I’ll meet you outside,” she told Rick.

After pinning her flyer to the bulletin board, she scooped the handle of the basket and trudged over to Mrs. Crawley, waiting at the register with a paper bag.

“You can carry your mail in this,” she said. Robin followed the suggestion, and then the old lady held out her palm. “Number seven mail key, please.”

“Oh right,” Robin said, handing it back to her.

After putting the key back into its rightful slot, Mrs. Crawley took down a box of condoms and added them to the bag. “Take these too.”

What the heck? “But I just bought some.”

“My eyes may not be what they used to be, but I know what I saw between you and that Hunter fellow.”

Robin gulped. “I—I uh… I was talking to him, yes. We’re neighbours.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, child,” she said, making the understatement of the century. “Do you even have the slightest idea what you’re doing with an older man like that?”

Robin shook her head, trying to reassure her. “I think there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Oh?” she said. “Then I suppose you can use the extra prophylactics to make party balloons.”

“You don’t understand. I’m telling you, I really don’t need—”

“Take them,” she insisted. “What do you kids say these days? Wrap it before you tap it?”

Robin’s jaw dropped. “Mrs. Crawley!”

“For all I know, you and Hunter are probably already going at it like rabbits,” she mumbled with disdain. “He was in here earlier and bought a box then, too.”

He did? She wondered if that was why Crawley had such a sudden hate-on for Rick. But that still didn’t make sense. After all, he had to be the sweetest guy in all of Lake Whippoorwill.

“At this rate, I’m going to have to re-stock before the weekend,” Mrs. Crawley grumbled.

Crawley’s was the last place Robin expected to encounter resistance to her romance with Rick.

She’d told him last night that she didn’t give a shit about what others thought, but now the risk of running afoul of Mrs. Crawley niggled at her.

Clearly, she did care. At least a little.

Maybe it was because she actually cared about Rick.

She placed her hand over the old woman’s. “I’d really appreciate it if you don’t mention this to anyone, please? Can we just keep this between us girls?”

With a distant, almost mystical look in her clouded eyes, Mrs. Crawley stared deeply into Robin’s soul, holding her gaze for what felt like an eternity before snapping out of her trance-like state.

“I won’t say a word,” she promised. “But please, for the love of all that’s good and holy, child, be careful. Or suffer a fool’s consequences.”