Our Finest Hour (The Time #1)(75)

“Nice try.”

She huffs playfully. Tied around her neck are the white straps of her swimsuit. She’s in denim cut-offs and a tank top.

We get Claire from her room and climb into my truck. Aubrey taps her feet to the music that’s softly playing, and when she realizes she’s doing it, she stops.

“Don’t say anything,” she warns me with a pointed finger.

“Wasn’t going to,” I say through a satisfied smile.

It takes a little over an hour to get there. When we pull in, Aubrey raises her eyebrows.

“I don’t have a life vest for Claire.”

“They do. I double-checked.” Ignoring the suspicious look on her face, I hop out of the truck and open the back door for Claire to climb out. Aubrey doesn’t know who “they” are, but she’s about to.

The lake glitters in the sunlight, and Claire squeals. “It’s so shiny.”

“Have you been to the lake before?” I ask.

“Nope.”

“First time for everything, Claire .”

Aubrey rounds the back of my truck. “A lake day? I’ll be honest Cordova, I didn’t take you for a lake guy.”

“I have all kinds of tricks up my sleeve.” Twenty feet away is the marina and our destination. “Come with me.” Aubrey and Claire follow me to the white building.

Ten minutes later Aubrey is shaking her head at me. “This is—”

“Going to be fine.” I interrupt.

Claire is wearing a lift vest, pulled tight and triple-checked by Aubrey, and playing knee deep in the water while our paddle board instructor, Bodie, gives us our first lesson. Aubrey listens closely.

When he’s finished, Bodie tells Aubrey to get on, then has me place Claire on the board in front of her.

We paddle out the way we’ve been taught. Aubrey goes slowly, and I have to keep slowing down for her. After a while, her shoulders drop from her ears. She begins smiling. The wind lifts her ponytail. Claire sits cross-legged in front of Aubrey, pointing at everything she sees.

We paddle to a cove and climb off. Claire stays on until we’ve walked the boards almost completely out of the water. She hops off and splashes around while Aubrey and I watch from our place on the warm sand.

“Thank you,” Aubrey murmurs. With two fists, she gathers sand and buries her feet.

“For bringing you here?”

“Yes. And…for…” She sighs and shakes her head, frustrated.

“You’re welcome.” I don’t need to hear the actual words. Just knowing she’s thinking them is enough. Knowing I’m making her feel like that is better than an explanation.

We spend forty more minutes there, splashing with Claire and collecting rocks to leave a message in the sand. We were here.

When we arrive back at the marina, Aubrey looks unhappy it’s over. “Pick out a place for us where we can eat lunch.” I tell her. “I’m going to make sure everything is settled up with Bodie.”

Behind the desk in the little white building sits Bodie. In front of the desk is a dog, maybe a lab mix. It lies sleeping but perks up when I set my foot in the place.

Bodie looks up when the dog runs over to me. “Hey, man, how was it? Did your wife have fun?”

My hand, which had been scratching the top of the dogs head, stills. “Uh, yeah, she did.” I take my hand back. “She loved it.” I don’t want to correct him. His assumption does things to my heart and my head. Good things.

I pay Bodie for the lesson and the rental and shake his hand. He walks out with me to where Aubrey and Claire wait.

“It was nice to meet you both,” he says to them. “I love seeing families here. If you play together, you stay together.” With a nod at me he disappears back into his shop. Faintly I hear him talking to his dog.

“Did you find a spot for lunch?” I ask Aubrey.

She hands me her phone. On it are a list of choices she found in an internet search. A drop of water runs down the face of the phone, so I flick it off. Aubrey sniffs. I look at her, but she’s already turned away.

“Don’t,” she pleads, her voice quiet.

Like in the truck and at the cove, I don’t push for more. And like before, I already know.

I’ve never been so happy to see a woman cry.

Aubrey’s walls won’t be vanquished with the force of a wrecking ball or the smack of a sledgehammer.

She needs love.

It’s something I’ve been unknowingly giving her since day one.

God help me, I love her.





I’m letting Isaac in. It was sub-conscious at first. I think. But now it’s pretty damn conscious. Getting out of his bed every morning takes superhuman strength.

Five more minutes of warm toes pressed together.

A few more seconds of a smile he hasn’t yet given to anybody else that day.

And sometimes, if we’re lucky, we pretend we have an hour…



“Good morning, Doctor Cowboy.” I grin at Isaac over the island sink. His hair sticks up and his eyes are squinty. He looks sleepy and messy and delicious.

And he’s frowning. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” His voice is petulant. “No Sixty.” He grunts, circling the island. I keep washing strawberries like I’m not certain of his intentions.