Page 4 of Patio Lanterns (The Blue Canoe Cottage #1)

Rick

As Rick stood in the doorway, something compelled him to call out to her, yet he couldn’t quite find the voice to ask her to come back.

Robin was a lovely girl, sparkly, funny too, and by the sounds of it, led quite an interesting life with her three-legged dog.

He was intrigued. There was something entirely appealing about their all-too-brief encounter that left him wanting to learn more.

But if he asked her to stay, would she think he was a creep?

A middle-aged cliché? Alternatively, if she stayed at his request, would she quickly grow bored and regret wasting her time? He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Stop overthinking it before she disappears, asshole.

“Robin, wait!”

She made a U-turn in the driveway. Mutt galloped back to the cottage, his tail wagging. Robin followed several paces behind, and Rick felt relieved that she was smiling and not annoyed that he’d called her back.

“Why don’t you stick around for dinner?” he asked as she neared his front step. “I’ve got steak marinating and a salad on the go, plus there’s plenty of beer stocked in the fridge.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I… I mean, we really couldn’t…” Robin was interrupted by pleading whines from her hungry companion. She bent down to him. “Where are your manners?”

“They say it’s far better for the digestion to share a meal with someone than to eat alone,” he said, hoping it might convince her to stay.

“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be right to hinder proper digestion,” she said with a smile. “But only if you’re absolutely sure.”

He nodded. “I am. And your, uh, boyfriend is welcome too, of course,” he said, looking past her shoulder for the scary ex-military brute allegedly stationed down the street.

“There’s no one else out there. It’s just me and Mutt.” She shrugged. “Sorry I lied, but a girl can never be too careful.”

“Ah, the ol’ fake boyfriend self-defence,” he said, amused. “Hey, I totally get it. But if you really want to protect yourself, you should carry pepper spray.”

She patted her shoulder bag. “Who says I’m not?”

He nodded. “Attagirl. Next time, lead with that instead.”

Robin followed him into the kitchen, where Rick opened a couple bottles of beer. He handed one to her, and they clinked before taking a sip.

“What can I do to help?” she asked brightly, inspecting the prep he’d started at the kitchen island.

Usually he wouldn’t dream of asking his guest to lift a finger, but since she’d offered, he realized he could use an extra set of hands. He was delighted she was willing to pitch in. “How about you finish the chopped salad, and I’ll get the steaks ready.”

Rick pulled the steaks out of the fridge. If he was cooking for one, which he did every night, sirloins would’ve suited him just fine. But he was relieved that he’d had the urge to splurge on ribeyes that week, despite not knowing he’d be entertaining company.

Robin’s knife steadily tapped on the cutting board. “So, I haven’t been back to Lake Whippoorwill for a few years, but I don’t remember seeing you around before.”

“I moved in after I retired a couple of years ago,” he said, his back turned to the island as he seasoned the steaks at the counter.

“Retired?” she questioned. “You seem awfully young to be retired.”

He turned his head and grinned. “You’ve only been here a few minutes and already, you’re my favourite dinner guest of all time.”

She laughed with him. “You mentioned Vancouver. Did you move from out west?”

“Yeah, I lived in B.C. for almost thirty years. But I’m originally from here,” he said. “What about you?”

“I grew up in Markham,” she said.

“Hey, Richmond Hill.” He raised his beer and clinked the neck of her bottle. “How long have you been coming up here?”

“Oh, I’m a lifer,” she admitted. “My family owns a cottage. The one I’m presently locked out of?”

He was curious why she didn’t have a key but didn’t want to pry. “How come you haven’t been to the cottage for a few years?” he asked instead.

“Just life, I guess. To be honest, I think the Live-Love-Lake gene might’ve skipped me.

My parents loved spending summers up here, but vacations meant having to leave behind my friends and the privacy of my own room for mosquito bites, detention camp bunk beds, and sharing a tiny bathroom with four other people. Not exactly my idea of paradise.”

“You can take the girl out of the city, but can’t take the city out of the girl?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Robin put down the knife and scooped up the piles of onions, peppers, and tomatoes she’d cut up and placed them in the bowl along with the cucumbers he’d sliced earlier. “Do you have salad dressing?”

“Already mixed,” he said. “Do you like feta? I have some if you want to add that in.”

“I love it,” she said.

“Great, me too.” Rick pulled out the cheese and an herbed vinaigrette from the fridge.

As she finished the salad, Rick tidied up his workstation before procuring two more cold ones to take outside.

He found a suitably sized bowl and filled it with tap water so that Mutt could have a cold one too.

“How about we move this party to the deck and get these steaks on? I’m not sure how much longer we can test Mutt Lange’s patience. ”

At the sound of his name, Mutt’s tail thumped against the floor. Rick laughed. “I promise you, my three-legged friend, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“I’m not sure he’s ever had steak before, so it will be a treat for us both,” Robin said. “To be honest, most of my meals get handed to me at the drive-thru.”

Rick flinched at the thought of existing on fast food.

All the more reason to make sure he cooked Robin’s steak to her liking.

He chose to forego the faster option of cooking with gas for the charcoal grill.

While the old-school method was slower, it would give the meat extra flavour, with the added bonus that the additional cooking time meant more time for conversation.

As he prepared the grill, Robin and Mutt surveyed the backyard.

Rick took pride in the place, having put a great deal of time and effort into the landscaping and later adding the multi-tiered deck, hot tub, and the indulgence of a major outdoor kitchen—investments that increased the cottage’s value with the bonus of making it feel more like home. His home.

“This is spectacular,” Robin cooed, settling back into a Muskoka chair with a beer. “Do you do all of this gardening yourself? If so, you’ve got to have quite the green thumb.”

“I find it relaxes me,” he said, pleased that she’d noticed. “Something about being one with nature, I suppose.”

“Well, it’s gorgeous. And so’s the rest of the yard. You must’ve done quite well for yourself to do all of this after you retired.”

“I did all right,” he said, modestly. “I moved to B.C. to play football and then stayed to start my own company. When it sold, that allowed me to come back here. Now I’m living the dream.”

That was a severely abbreviated version of events, one more palatable than the whole ugly story.

While he’d always intended to retire at the lake, an unexpected turn of events forced his hand into returning sooner than expected.

At least he’d had the foresight to buy the cottage years before.

It gave him a soft place a land and a project to keep him occupied so he wouldn’t lose his mind.

Of course, even that plan had come at a steep cost.

“What kind of business were you in?” she asked.

“Finance and asset management,” he said, before slightly revising for clarity. “I helped people invest their money.” He piled coals into the charcoal chimney starter and set it alight. As the stack began smouldering, he pulled up a seat next to Robin.

“And you played football too? What position?”

“Wide receiver,” he said, relaxing with a sip from his beer.

“That tracks,” she said. “I mean, you look like you’re still in great shape.”

He grinned because she’d noticed, and not just because she didn’t tack on for a guy your age . “I guess part of it is conditioning, but I try to stay active. You know, biking, swimming, working around the cottage.”

She swallowed down another gulp of beer. “Swimming?”

“It’s good exercise and easy on the knees. Football was murder on the ol’ hinges.” He instantly regretted reminding her that he was a creaky old fossil, especially after she had been polite enough not to mention it. “You like to swim, Robin?”

“Me? Swim?” She brought her beer up to her lips and tipped it back. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Actually, I just got back about half an hour before you came over,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “So, that was you .”

“What was me?”

“I think I saw you down at the lake. Only I didn’t know it was you,” she said. “I was just relaxing by the water and then suddenly, there you were. In all your glory.”

“In all my…?” An intense heat burned in his chest, quickly flaring up to his neck and face when he realized what Robin meant. “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry,” he said, choking on an embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t realize anyone else was around. I’m usually pretty careful about checking first.”

She smirked. “Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was gawking.”

“No, no, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I mean, I should’ve been more aware of my surroundings…” He stopped himself. “You were gawking? At me?”

A sly grin played at one corner of lips. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said, giving him the once over.

Rick’s heart skipped. He was flattered by her approval, yet, embarrassed for having been so oblivious about drawing a captive audience.

“You don’t bother to wear swim trunks?” she asked.

“Well, yeah, sometimes I do,” he admitted. “I guess it goes back to wanting to feel connected to nature, but I find it liberating to go swimming wild. To have nothing between you and your surroundings. It’s pretty exhilarating to move through the water with minimal resistance.”

“Swimming wild? I like that,” she said. “Bet it was refreshing on a night like this.”

“It was,” he said.

“Stimulating too, I bet,” she added.

“Absolut—” He stopped when he realized what she’d said.

“I’m only teasing.” She shrugged. “I swear, I didn’t see anything. Or much of anything. Well, maybe only a little, but what I did see was definitely quite, um… well defined.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Well defined?”

“Like I said, you’re still in great shape,” she said. “So sue me for noticing.” Her eyes twinkled as she bit the corner of her lip, making it clear that she was enjoying his discomfort a little too much.

His eyes met hers, and he sensed the air between them crackling in a way it hadn’t until that moment. Was she actually flirting with him? It may have been a while, but it sure felt like there was a spark of sexual tension.

He blinked first. Time to get up and check the coals. They had ashed over and were now white with burning red tips, so he carefully poured them out of the chimney and spread them evenly on the bottom grate. “How do you like your steak done, Robin?”

“I like it however the chef wants to cook it.”

“Medium it is,” he said, walking across the deck to retrieve the steaks in the kitchen. He stopped at the door. “How’s your beer? Want another?”

She held up her bottle. He could see it was nearing half empty and was impressed that she was keeping up. “If you are.”

“Two steaks and two beers, coming right up,” he said, going inside and closing the door behind him.

He took a moment to collect himself, reeling from the unexpected rise in heat.

Down boy. You’re reading far too much into this.

She wasn’t coming on to you, it was just harmless flirting.

I know it’s been a long time, but she’s too young for you.

Way too young. Like so young she’s never dialled a phone or had to be kind and rewind a video.

So cool your fucking jets and just relax.