Siobhan knew she should say something, but with her eyes welling up and her throat clogged with emotion, all she could do was nod.
It wasn’t about her, she reminded herself. She knew that. They would embrace her because of Oliver, but the contrast with her own family couldn’t be ignored. She wasn’t sure her mother or sister would put themselves out on Oliver’s behalf, and that was sad.
“That’s all I wanted to say,” Lisa continued, pushing herself out of the chair. “I’ll let you have a few more minutes of peace before the others get back from riding. There’s not much chance of Oliver sleeping through that.”
Siobhan wasn’t so sure about that. The kid was out like a light, and he hadn’t even stirred when a logging truck roared past the campground.
But sure enough, fifteen minutes later, when the first machines made their way down the hill to the center of the campground, Oliver sat up like it was Christmas and he’d just heard a reindeer bell.
Stella took off across the grass, going straight to the third ATV in the line that parked around the edge of the playground. As Siobhan watched, Brian pulled his helmet off and leaned over to tousle his dog’s fur. As he moved, puffs of dirt released from his shirt, and she couldn’t imagine what they’d done to cover themselves and their machines with so much dirt and mud. Judging by the laughter, whatever it was had been fun.
Then he looked up, glancing around the campground until he spotted her in the shade. He smiled and waved, and she did the same without even thinking about it, a thrill shooting through her at the thought he’d sought her out.
Thankful nobody could see her blush from where they’d gathered, she took Oliver’s hand before he could run toward the big muddy machines. Brian hadn’t been looking for her, of course. He’d been looking for Oliver and she needed to stop having these ridiculous reactions to the man immediately. Lazy summer vacations and fresh air might give rise to all sorts of imaginings—especially since she hadn’t been on a date since the day Kelly knocked on her door with Oliver—but she absolutely wasn’t going to allow herself to become infatuated with Brian.
No matter how seeing him straddling the four-wheeler with his head thrown back as he laughed stirred things that hadn’t been stirred in years.
She just had to put a lid on it. And then put a brick on top of the lid.
* * *
They were fixing dinner plates when Siobhan stepped back to avoid getting doused with ketchup by a six-year-old who forgot the cardinal rule of making sure the lid was closed before shaking the bottle, and Brian put his hand on Siobhan’s back to steady her and keep her from falling.
There was nothing wrong with that. The problem was that he didn’t want to let her go.
His palm rested against the small of her back and his fingers spread, feeling the warmth of her skin under her thin cotton T-shirt. For the space of one breath and then another, he savored the weight of her against his hand as he inhaled the scent of shampoo and sunscreen. Her hair was in a ponytail, so he saw the tips of her ears and her neck blush a light shade of pink.
Then she shifted, muttering an apology, and he curled his empty fingers into a loose fist for a moment before turning his attention back to his plate. The line moved and he grabbed a small spoonful of coleslaw in order to leave room for the ever-present dual helpings of potato salad.
When it was time to sit, he deliberately chose a camp chair instead of one of the picnic tables. After turning the chair so he could put his feet up on the fire ring—which conveniently kept his back to Siobhan and Oliver—he sat and rested his plate on his legs. Stella sat beside him for afew seconds before remembering she had a better chance of food being dropped by the kids.
He wasn’t surprised when his grandfather and dad joined him, as well as his uncles Kevin and Joe. Eating with your plate on your lap wasn’t ideal, but the older you got, the less appealing picnic table benches became.
They made small talk while they ate, mostly about the ATV trails and a trip some of them had planned for the upcoming snowmobile season. It gave Brian’s mind the freedom to keep returning to that moment when Siobhan had almost, though not quite, been in his arms.
He couldn’t make sense of his attraction to her, though he’d reached a place where there was no point in denying it to himself. She was beautiful, of course. That didn’t hurt. But it wasn’t as if he’d felt a need to touch every beautiful woman he’d ever crossed paths with. There was something about Siobhan that made him toss and turn at night—much to Stella’s annoyance—and think about her all day.
Avoiding making eye contact with her wasn’t that hard when he put conscious effort into it, although making sure he went about it in a natural way so his family’s radar didn’t get pinged was harder. They were a perceptive bunch, and it wouldn’t take much to attract their attention.
After they ate, Brian would have preferred to keep himself busy, but he and his brothers had worked hard leading up to this week to ensure they’d be able to relax and spend time with the family, so there wasn’t a lot for him to do. Taking the tractor up to bring down another load of split firewood from the pit took him a few minutes.
Then he volunteered to grab the box of marshmallows, chocolate, crackers, sticks and wet wipes from the store when his mother said the words he’d loved as a kid, but didn’t like quite as much now.
“Time for s’mores.”
Being one of the adults responsible for campfire safety and making sure sweets weren’t left all over to attract furry woodland creatures took some of the fun out of it.
“Who’s having s’mores?” he asked as he dumped the supplies on the picnic table closest to the campfire.
“S’mores!” Oliver yelled, clapping his hands. “Mommy, s’mores!”
“Somebody sure loves his s’mores,” Mike said with an affectionate chuckle.
“He’s actually never had one,” Siobhan said, and then she laughed when half the family actually gasped. “They really frown on open campfires in my neighborhood.”
“Smart people,” Brian muttered.
“Ignore him,” Hannah said, grabbing the marshmallow sticks and handing them out. She handed Nora one after glancing at Ellie for approval, but Siobhan took Oliver’s. “Campers and campfires have become his personal monster under the bed over the last couple of months.”
