She’d thought her last-minute plan to hide in Judy’s back seat was brilliant, but she’d only made a mess of things.

Joy dipped her chin, swirled her ankles in the water. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you did.” He bumped shoulders with her. “Want to hang out this summer?”

She shyly nodded. “If I’m not grounded.”

“Fingers crossed.”

Kevin’s foot brushed against hers under the water. An electric current swirled up Joy’s calf, but she didn’t shy away. She hooked her foot behind his heel and they gently swung their feet, forward and back, leisurely like a southern Sunday afternoon. An easy, closed-lip smile curved Kevin’s mouth. She smiled back; then he started to play, a slow rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Let It Rain.”

Joy listened, amazed at how good he was. He’d just finished the song when her name reached her, a shout of impatience.

“Joy!”

Judy.

She and Kevin twisted around. Judy stood on the shore, one hand on a hip, another blocking the glare of the single lamp on the dock.

“Joy, you out there?”

“Here,” she answered, waving. “She’s going to blow a fuse,” Joy told Kevin, rising. “Better see what she wants.”

“We’re leaving, now!”

Well, that answered that question.

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 13

AFTER

Joy

Joy throws open the front door to the cabin she and Mark rented at the Hill Brook Lodge in the Catskills, sweaty and gasping from an uphill sprint. Her foot barely touches the threshold before hands grasp her waist from behind. Fingers dig into her obliques and she shrieks as she’s swooped to the side and deposited on the deck just outside the door. She spins back around. Mark stands on the other side of the threshold, just inside the room, hunched over, hands on thighs, chest heaving. Sweat drips off his hair. A self-righteous grin-grimace stretches across his face.

“You cheated!” Joy accuses.

“I improvised.” He grasps the top of the doorframe and stretches his arms. Crescents of sweat stain his shirt under his arms, and a long streak discolors the front. A ripe, I-hit-my-PR-pace odor hits her.

Joy invited Mark on a long, late-afternoon run on the trails behind the exclusive mountain lodge where they have been staying. Toward the end of the route, with the lodge looming ahead, uphill, Mark challenged her. Last one back to the room owed the other a back rub.

“You’re on!” Joy sprinted ahead. She has an eighty-minute deep tissue massage scheduled late morning tomorrow, but spending the evening with her husband’s hands on her, kneading tired muscles, is bonus material. So would be the bragging rights from winning.