And yes, he was hot. Very hot. The first time she’d seen him, she hadn’t gotten a good look, but today she had. He was big, built pretty badass, and had stood there steady on his feet and stoic in army-green cargoes and a black T-shirt stretched to its limits across his broad chest. Eyes hidden behind those dark sunglasses, he’d held her hair back for her.
Oh God. It was possible she’d just hit an all-time low, but really she shouldn’t underestimate herself.
As she drove, she searched for any other dock that looked deserted. Not that she was in a hurry to try to park this mother-effer. Because if she had trouble gliding across the water at speed, maneuvering the boat into a slip required skills and luck she didn’t have. And something else she seriously lacked as well—patience.
But she had to get to work. Up until a few weeks ago, she’d worked at one of the local hotel chains, running the concierge crew for five locations, and she’d been great at it.
Then Lucas had slept with the CEO’s wife and…well, Sophie had once again paid the price. Now she was temping, taking on every job that came her way out of desperation, because she was getting damned tired of ramen noodles, apples, and peanut butter.
And…she couldn’t find a damn open dock. Finally, she turned and headed back, ending up right where she’d started—at the cabin. She stared at the empty dock and thought of the twenty bucks she’d save in campground day fees, which was good because she was currently so broke she couldn’t even pay attention.
She slowed and eyed the dock, chewing on her lower lip. You can’t moor here…
That’s what Hottie Lake Patrol Guy had said to her, but she’d heard so much more than that.
You can’t major in “good times.”
You can’t quit college. You’re supposed to become someone.
You can’t just casually flit your way through life being a fetch-it girl at a motel.
Life isn’t always happiness. It has to mean something.
If you’re not going to become someone, then at least marry Lucas, who will take care of you.
She shrugged it all off the best she could, because she was done listening to people. Her well-meaning parents. Her past bosses. Her so-called friends, who’d all gone AWOL since she’d left Lucas.
Nope, she was on a listening-only-to-her-heart kick.
And with that, she took the boat to the campgrounds. She managed to maneuver close to the dock and then brought up her bookmarked YouTube video on tying down a boat. And thanks to Hottie Lake Patrol Guy’s advice, she used two tie-downs. She then scrounged up the cash for day fees—there went lunch—and rushed belowdecks.
It wasn’t quite as pristine down here as it had been when it’d belonged to Lucas. This was because one, she wasn’t an OCD cleaning fanatic who’d had it scrubbed with a toothbrush. And two, she resented the hell out of her accommodations. She hated the small porta-potty she couldn’t even use because she didn’t know how to hook it up.
This had forced her to always park—er, moor—the boat near one of the two campgrounds on the lake so that she could use those facilities. What she did have were seats for six and a bed that barely fit one. The seats and bed were done up with the same leather-like material as the seats above, white with red trim, making the compartment appear more spacious than it was. Much more. There was a top-notch stereo system and entertainment center that had probably cost more than she’d made last year tucked into the cabinets. Everything was compact and efficient.
And it all drove her crazy.
She hurriedly brushed her teeth in the small galley sink, tamed her hair, and changed her clothes, digging into her last clean outfit. She would have made herself breakfast, but the sole electric burner on the tiny stove would light only about half the time she tried, and this morning wasn’t one of those times.
Forty-five minutes later she stood outside the hospital, switching out her running shoes for heels. Not that she’d run here from the lake. Nope, the only time Sophie did any running was if a bear was chasing her, and that hardly ever happened.
She’d walked the three miles to work, reminding herself that in return she could now have dessert with both lunch and dinner as a prize. She shoved her running shoes into her tote and headed into the building adjacent to the hospital, where for the next few days she was running the front office at the special-care facility while the regular office manager recovered from a root canal.
The job was stressful, but she loved the people. They were either elderly or a little loony tunes, but she fit right in. A shrink would have a field day with that, but she was making new choices these days, and one of them was not worrying about what people thought of her.