It wasn’t a mud pit this time. It was a whole stinking acre of quicksand, and he was right in the plum middle without a line.
He tucked his lunch under his arm, and went back to the creek.
Because he needed to do some festering of his own. Took a danged idiot to muck up his own rules this good.
Time to get back in touch with the rocket scientist.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Her smarts and her heart were rarely in agreement.
—The Temptress of Pecan Lane, by Mae Daniels
Anna hadn’t realized she fell asleep until someone woke her by unzipping the door. She squeezed her eyes shut and drew a hesitant breath. Lemons.
Not Old Spice.
She should’ve been glad. Because lemons meant the owner of the crap that had exploded all over the tent was back, and if she wanted to fight about Anna labeling and putting it all away, then Anna was ready to fight.
Old Spice would’ve meant she had to face big brother and find out if she got to continue deluding herself about this thing with him being a casual fling. Her relationship with Jackson was glorious because they didn’t have hard stuff. The hard stuff took work, and since neither of them were in this long-term, there was no reason to work out big problems.
So why did she feel as though she’d dove headfirst into an icy river of self-examination and swum across it to commitment territory?
And why did Jackson’s being upset scare her more than getting attached?
The other sleeping bag rustled. She held her body still until Louisa’s breathing evened out.
After several minutes of no movement, Anna cautiously rolled over and peered at the other girl.
Her mass of curls spilled out over the sleeping bag. The back of her Auburn sweatshirt showcased the regular rise and fall of her ribs. Anna snuck off her own sleeping bag and crept to the door. She unzipped it one tooth at a time until she could squeeze out. The campsite was empty, though there was some movement in Lance and Kaci’s tent. There was also a note on the picnic table, right above its shiny new “Picnic Table” label. Her cheeks flushed. She absently rubbed her sore thumb.
Maybe she’d gone overboard.
The note from Kaci told her they were taking afternoon camp naps but that Jackson was down at the creek.
The mere sight of his name on paper made her pulse pitter-patter. She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath for courage, then crunched over the scattered leaves and dried pine needles to see about her—whatever he was.
She found him reclining against a hill. Radish snoozed at his feet. She stepped toward them. Both of them looked up.
Her hands hung awkwardly at her side. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. Jackson seemed more wary than irritated.
Obviously he’d seen the labels.
He patted the ground next to him. “Still mad, Anna Grace?”
She plopped down and stared out at the creek. The wispy clouds of this morning had blown out, and darker, more sinister clouds were slowly rolling in. “It’s not any of my business,” she said.
When he didn’t answer, she risked a look at him. “But I have a hard time believing she’s related to you, as dumb as she acts.”
He brushed a hand over her back. Some of Anna’s tight muscles unlocked. They didn’t open, but they were unlocked. “Not everybody’s built like you,” he said, but his tone was morematter-of-fact than accusatory.
She rolled her lower lip into her mouth. “She doesn’t have to be like me,” she finally said, “but what happens if she gets married and moves halfway across the country, and something happens to you and the rest of your family, then she gets divorced or widowed and has kids to take care of and no way to support them because everyone always took care of everything for her?”
“Little extreme there, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry, have we met?”
He chuckled. A few more muscles clicked loose. He slipped his hand under her shirt, his fingers doing nothing more wicked than resting on her skin, and different muscles tingled in that oh-so-good way. “I know I give you trouble about not letting me do things for myself,” she said, “but I do appreciate your gentlemanly side. It makes you special. Even if sometimes I want to beat you over the head and tell you girls aren’t helpless.”
