Page 24 of Patio Lanterns (The Blue Canoe Cottage #1)

“We have a complicated relationship, and I know most of that’s on me,” he said. “I wasn’t around for him much. And while I wish I could go back and do it over again, that’s not possible. I moved here hoping that we’d be able to work on things.”

“But that hasn’t happened?” she asked.

“If anything, it’s worse than when I lived four provinces away.

He thinks I took this place away from his mom, but that’s not the case,” he said sadly.

“I bought it after we divorced, with the understanding that I would retire here someday. In the meantime, Julie and Aidan were welcome to come up and use the cottage as often as they wanted. No strings attached.”

“Gee, that sounds very generous of you.”

“When my company was sold, it sort of… expedited matters,” he explained. “Aidan had started to renovate this place thinking that he and Julie had several more years to enjoy it. I don’t think he believed that I’d ever come back.”

Robin offered up a comforting smile. “What Aidan believed or didn’t believe is not on you.”

“Aidan’s angry, and I get why. He feels cheated by a father he hardly knows,” he said.

“Every time we get together to try to talk about it, it seems to blow up in my face. Until recently. Now it seems he genuinely wants us to work on things, which is terrific, but I’m afraid that it hinges on me backing his partnership with this developer he’s working with.”

“Yeah, he mentioned that at dinner,” she said. “I didn’t realize he was expecting that money to come from you, though. What did you tell him?”

“Nothing yet. I’ve been stalling. I just don’t have a great feeling about this deal, you know? But the longer I wait, the more Aidan thinks it’s because I don’t trust him.”

“Do you?” she asked.

Rick stopped and looked at her. “He’s my son.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Rick thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I trust Aidan. But I’m not sure I trust his business instincts.”

“Because of how your douche-waffle partner burned you?”

“It’s crossed my mind that I’m still nursing a hangover from that,” he said. “I have to admit, part of me is really excited for Aidan to get involved in a business in its early stages. That’s the best time, when things are crackling with electricity and fresh with possibility.”

“But…?”

“But he hasn’t been forthcoming about the guy he’s partnering with, and when I try to bring up his contract, he quickly changes the subject.

I just don’t want him being taken advantage of,” Rick told her.

“Plus, I can’t help but wonder why he came to me with this.

Is it really because he wants me to be part of what he’s doing, or because no one else would? ”

Robin slumped down. “I went to art school, so I don’t have a business degree, but it seems to me that trust should be the most important factor in any partnership,” she said. “Sounds like you and Aidan still have some shit to work through before you get there.”

“Well, I have a business degree,” he said with a soft chuckle, “and you couldn’t be more right.”

Mutt’s coat was now covered in thick, banana-scented suds from head to tail, the deodorizing shampoo foaming and fizzing as it worked its nasty-odour-busting magic.

“It says to leave it on for ten to fifteen minutes before rinsing,” she read from the bottle.

“Although I didn’t wait that long last time and it seemed okay. ”

“I think we’d better leave it on as directed for maximum effect,” Rick said. “You want a beer while we wait?”

“Love one,” she answered.

He went inside the cottage and took the pizza out of the oven, letting it rest a minute before slicing. While he waited, he warmed up the beef patties for Mutt and grabbed the last two cans of beer out of the fridge from the six-pack Aidan had brought over.

Rick did want to ask Robin about her connection to Aidan—not only because of their current situationship, but because he’d missed out on those years at the lake.

What really went down between them, and what did that letter have to do with it?

Aidan said that Robin used to have a thing for him, but how did she feel now?

Questions spun around in Rick’s head like Mutt chasing his tail.

You’re overthinking it again, dipshit. Cool it. When she’s ready, she’ll tell you.

Shaking it off, he returned to the sudsy scene in the backyard. Mutt was standing remarkably still in the tub, his eyes half closed as Robin talked sweetly, her low, gentle voice as soothing as a lullaby. She had the same effect on dogs as she’d had on her niece. And on Rick.

“You’re really good with him, you know.”

She quickly turned around. “I wish that was true,” she said. “We wouldn’t be in this stinking mess now if I could keep tabs on a three-legged dog, would we?”

He held up the pizza. “Hungry?”

“Oh my God, yes. Famished,” she gushed, reaching up to take it out of his hands. “I could eat just about anything right now. Well, except maybe sushi.”

Mutt whined.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you, buddy,” Rick said, breaking a warm patty in half and hand-feeding it to him.

“How do you do that?” Robin said.

“Do what?”

“Take such good care of us. You always seem to know exactly what we need.”

“I just think about what would make you happy, and then I do it.” He gave Mutt the second half before sitting beside her in the grass. “You do the same for me too, you know.”

She wrinkled her nose in an adorable way. “I do?”

“Yeah. Just by being yourself. You don’t even have to try,” he said. “Take this very moment. I am a very happy man because you made the choice to be here with me.”

They both reached for a slice of pizza, laughing as they pulled at the stringy cheese. “Even though it’s not dinner at the Firefly Inn, you gotta admit, having a picnic under the stars together is still pretty romantic,” she said.

He swallowed as he nodded. “I guess I can tell you now, but I had a surprise planned after dinner.”

She smiled. “You did?”

“I’d booked us one of the suites at the inn.”

“Noooooo,” she moaned. “You didn’t.”

“Champagne chilling, rose petals on the bed, chocolate-covered strawberries, the whole nine yards.”

“Oh no, not chocolate-covered strawberries.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “Plus, those big, fluffy hotel bath robes.”

“Stop, you’re killing me.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Look, it’s fine. We’ll do it some other time, I guess,” he said, wondering just how much time they had left to make such plans. “Do you know what you’re going to do after the weekend’s over?”

“Funny you should ask,” she said, picking up the beer. “I texted the band’s group chat earlier tonight to see what was happening. I guess until I hear back, I don’t have anywhere else to be for a while.”

Robin’s answer delighted Rick, but he also knew that her circumstances could change on a dime, and she’d have to go. He watched her peel back the tab and crack open her cold one. “Hey, your thumbs are curved outwards.”

She held up her thumb and flexed in demonstration. “You just noticed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda cool. Guess it comes in handy when you need to hitch a ride.”

She chugged back a long gulp. “There are people out there willing to pay good money for photos of trucker thumbs like mine.”

He laughed. “That’s a thing now?”

“Once, I posted a picture I took while driving between gigs, and I got a DM from some guy who said he liked the way my thumb looked pressed against the steering wheel. He said he’d pay me to send him photos.”

Rick winced. “What kind of photos?”

“Nothing overtly sexual. Just photos of me doing everyday things. Pushing a shopping cart, peeling a banana, strumming a guitar,” she said. “As long as they showed off the weird bendy angle of my thumbs. Oh, and he wanted them polished.”

“And did you do it?”

She shook her head. “But I would’ve if I’d had time to stop for a proper manicure,” she said.

“Who knows? I still might. I mean, if the Dawn Cherries are DOA and I can’t collect my inheritance, I may have to start a Lonely Fans page to pay my bills.

I figure if there’s one guy out there with a thumb fetish, there’s bound to be more. ”

Rick definitely gave her props for being resourceful, but the idea of some skeevy stranger using Robin’s body parts to get his rocks off didn’t sit well with him. She deserved to be cherished, thumbs and all. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

She took another swig of beer and he did the same before they got up and returned to the tub. Rick turned on the hose, rinsing the thick foamy suds from Mutt’s backside.

For a dog, he’d demonstrated extraordinary patience throughout the arduous deep cleaning process.

As if sensing he was finally coming to the end of it, Mutt gave a hard wet-dog shake from nose to tail, flinging water in every direction.

Squealing and laughing, Rick and Robin jumped back, but it was too late. They were soaked.

Rick lifted Mutt out of the tub. The moment all three paws touched the grass, his furry body shook out another frenzied Muttquake that sprayed everything in sight.

Rick definitely got the worst of it, the front of his shirt and jeans soaked through. Robin fell backward in hysterics, droplets glistening in her hair and on her laughing face. “Oh God, you’re drenched.”

He peeled off his sopping wet shirt and wrung out a torrent of soapy, smelly dog bath water. “We may never know what breed Mutt is, but I’m going to take a wild guess he may be part shampoodle.”