Gemma looks at me, bewilderment etched in the lines of her features. “You don’t seem like someone who would let someone get in her way.”
I open my mouth to refute her, but something Heather said this morning echoes in my ears. If you’re the one leading, sometimes you have to hide your fears—or, in my case, my doubts—and simply play the part.
And by playing the part, I have one of two options. I can stoop to Heather’s level and use my good standing with the board to bully her into giving the nod should I get offered the promotion. But that isn’t me, and I don’t want to be like her. My other option is to somehow prove to Heather I’m not a threat to her or her shiny title.
“So what are you going to do, Blakely?” Gemma asks.
I give her a knowing smile.
Maybe I came here already knowing what I was going to do, but it just took Gemma’s prodding, the knowledge that I do have some of my coworkers behind me, and Slade’s in-my-face commentary to make the idea that’s been niggling in the back of my head to come to fruition.
Maybe this is just the push I need to own who the new Blakely is and howl at the moon.
Blakely
Nerves rattle through me as I make my way back to the cabin to take a quick break and grab a sweatshirt for the next activity.
And Slade.
At least, I hope I’m grabbing him to come along. After how he stormed out of here earlier, I’m not exactly sure how he feels about being anywhere near me right now.
When a branch breaks behind me, I whirl around, the thought of there being a damn bear there more than terrifying, but I breathe a huge sigh of relief when I see Slade. He’s standing with his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his shoulder is leaning against a tree to his right, and there is the most stoic expression on his face.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hi.” I offer a smile, not sure what to say.
“I owe you an apology.” He takes a step toward me, eyes intent, and sigh heavy.
“Why apologize when all you said was the truth?” It’s my turn to step toward him, to apologize. “I know—”
“I was out of line.” A ghost of a smile turns up the corner of his lips and warms my heart. “You’re under a lot of pressure, and the last thing I want to do is add to it, but damn it, Blakely, I want you to see who I see when I look at you. I want you to trust that same person too.”
My eyes burn with tears because the sincerity in his tone and the emotion flooding his voice is enough to make my heart melt.
“Not everyone has the kind of confidence you have.”
“I know.” He nods and links his fingers with mine, creating a solid connection across a turbulent sea, and I’m so grateful he doesn’t try to say more and just lets me have my own insecurities. That he still connects with me regardless. “I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“Mm-hmm.” He tugs on my hand to follow him. I do so in silence as I try to figure out what it is I need to say. How I explain to him that sitting on a canoe in the middle of the lake, I decided that he’s right and that my toes are back in the sand again.
“What is it?”
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He laughs and squeezes my hand. “But you need to close your eyes from here on out.”
“Why?”
He looks at me like an impatient father would, and I smile in return. “I won’t let you run into anything, but you have to promise to keep them closed.”
I give him a defiant sigh to play along but close my eyes as he leads us through the forest. We walk over some uneven ground then up some stairs, and I assume we are at the cabin.
“Stand right there. Don’t move,” he says before letting go of my hand. I listen intently to his footfalls landing on the raised wooden floor of the cabin.
“Slade?”
“Patience,” he scolds playfully. There is some more shuffling and then an odd creaking sound that has me angling my head. I jolt when his hands frame my hips and even more so when his lips find my ear. “Do you trust me, Blakely?”
The chuckle that falls from my lips tells him not exactly, but I nod.
“Open them.”
When I do, the startled laugh that falls from my lips is simply a ruse to pretend that my heart didn’t just tumble out of my chest and fall at his feet. “What is this?” I ask but can already see it plain as day.
Slade has jerry-rigged some kind of swing on the front porch of the cabin. It’s two ropes attached to both ends of a large wooden slat. And on top of that, Slade is standing next to it, holding a red Solo cup out to me, and a bottle of wine rests on the window ledge beside him.
“Slade.” I smile and shake my head slowly. I’m completely astonished by his thoughtfulness. “I’m speechless.”
“And I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be,” I say, and without thought, I step into him, run my hand over the scruff on his jaw, and brush the softest of kisses against his lips. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
He holds the wine out to me while he takes a seat on one end of the wood plank. “Join me?”
“Will it hold both of us?” I ask.
“It’s about two feet off the ground, so even if we fall, I promise you won’t get hurt.”
He made me a swing. He
