“Definitely not.”

“This is like being with Red.”

She glanced at him and was relieved to see a smile on his face. “He had curly, badly behaved hair, an oversize rear end and skin with a tendency to burn in the sun?”

“Mmm.” He gestured to the side of the road. “Pull over.”

“Now? Why?”

“I can state with confidence that your curly hair is as cute as your freckles, but I might need to take a closer look at your rear end before I can give a definitive answer on relative sizes.”

“Josh Ryder! I am not pulling over so that you can stare at my butt.”

“My loss.” But he was grinning and so was she.

And maybe that should have surprised her as they’d been talking about his brother, but she’d learned after her grandmother had died that sadness and laughter could coexist.

“So how is this like being with Red?”

“You mean apart from the laughter? Like you, he was never interested in any of this stuff and I tried to make him interested. I often tried to persuade him to change his life, and do something more serious and adult, but all he wanted to do was chase waves and have a good time. Interestingly, he never tried to change me, even though my life choices seemed as crazy to him as his did to me.”

“But despite all that you were close.” She could hear it in the way he talked about his brother.

“Yes. Whenever we were both in we’d get together and share a few beers—more than a few.”

“I’m surprised your evil boss gave you the time off. You should have taken yourself to an employment tribunal or something. Cruelty to workers.”

“I like to think I was fair with everyone else.” He glanced at the roadside. “Make a right. If you’re determined to do this, this is our turning.”

She turned and found the parking lot. “From here we go on a bus to the bottom of the canyon. I’m excited, are you?”

“Not remotely.” But he was good-natured as the bus bumped its way down the road and was still almost smiling as they settled themselves into the boat.

Martha pressed her thigh a little closer to his as their guide introduced himself.

“Prepare yourselves for a wet, wild roller-coaster ride down eight white water rapids.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Martha.”

“Why the sarcasm? According to the promotional blurb we are going to be thrilled. If it wasn’t true, they wouldn’t say it.”

“I can think of other, safer ways of being thrilled.”