Nope, this time, she’ll have to come to me.
“Hi, Liam.”
The sound of that voice throws me off so hard, I lose my grip on the ax.
The hefty tool flies up and over my head where it catches the dome of Wayne Dalton’s canvas tent. The blade rips a ruthless path to the dirt and settles with a thud. Two tattered flaps fall open to expose Wayne setting up his cot, a smiley face on the butt of his boxers.
He doesn’t notice his new audience or the damage to his tent, so I turn my gaze to the source of the voice, inwardly telling myself it isnotwho I think it is.
But then I see her—a knockout, grown-up version of the woman I feared I’d never stop loving. My heart splinters and joins the heap of wood stacked beside me.
Thisis the woman I first fell for.
Thisis the woman I could kiss for hours, soaking in the sweet waves of anticipation and desire.
Thisis the woman I’d give anything to get back into my life.
I fix my gaze on hers. “Hey, Ashley,” I manage after an audible gulp. “Glad you could come.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ashley
I twist a manual can opener along a jumbo can of beans and franks as Liam slaps raw hamburger patties onto the grill beside me.
When signing up for the campout, I was given the option to help with one of the meals. Through the online form, I was also asked if I had any special skills that might come in handy on a camping trip. Say, if you were good with food or organizing games, dances, that type of thing.
I wonder if Liam specifically volunteered to chop wood. Or maybe he just said he was good with his hands. No, that leaves too much room for interpretation. He probably stated that he was handy and strong and willing to help wherever they needed him. That sounds like Liam. Easygoing and agreeable.
When we first pulled into the campsite, Lucy manning the music up front while Martin got in his last bit of gaming, a group of teenage boys approached the Camry, asking if they could help carry our items and find us an empty campsite. They were close to Lucy’s age by the look of it, and if I wasn’t mistaken, theyseemed very glad to see a new pretty girl show up at the event. They were cool with Martin, too, talking with him about gaming while they unloaded sleeping bags and totes.
After they headed down the path with our bags, the kids and I got the tent off the luggage rack. Lucy and Martin headed toward the designated site while I wandered to the restrooms. I had a grip on the door handle when something caught my attention. Not visually or even audibly, I don’t think. It was more instinctual, like a sixth sense, prompting me to take a few more steps, look beyond the cinderblock building, and onto the campsite below.
I didn’t know why, but my heart was pounding, my palms were sweating, and my breath was hitched in anticipation of what I might see.
And there he was, none other than Liam Wheaton, his very presence summoning me like a song.
He looked like a skilled lumberjack, legs spread in a wide stance as he hiked the ax up and over his broad, muscled frame. The denim jeans and plaid shirt completed the picture, and the generously rolled sleeves exposing his forearms were the cherry on top.
“Holy…"It was the only word I could muster as I stared at him, all masculinity and lawless good looks. He was even more beautiful than I imagined he’d be as a man in his forties. There were probably crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes when he laughed now, and I could only hope I’d get to find out during the days ahead.
I’d asked Annica, of course, if Liam had signed up for the campout, and by that point, she said he hadn’t. I’d resisted the urge to ask again because I didn’t want her response to sway me one way or the other. I wanted to feel excited about the possibilities, not preemptively disappointed that he wouldn’t be there. Or overly anxious if I found out he would be.
But knowing he was there gave me a thrilling and instant high.
In the ladies’ room, I primped before the foggy mirror, grateful that therewasa mirror. I pinched my cheeks, adjusted my hair, and took care of the boob-sweat before it could seep through my T-shirt.
I stepped back outside without even going to the bathroom, distracted as I was. Which is why I nearly peed my pants when Liam spun around to face me, unleashing the devastating degree of his glory.
After discovering that our tent would be right next to Liam's, I was sent to dinner duty to heat up tonight’s beans and franks while another guest— who turned out to be Liam—manned the grill.
"So,” I say, realizing how quiet I’ve been as I move to the second of three cans. “Do you think it's a coincidence that you and I ended up at the same food station tonight?"
Liam clears his throat and shakes an industrial-sized garlic salt container over the burgers, still raw on one side, while flames lick the other.
"We both know a few of the people in charge,” he says. “It was probably intentional.” He sets down the garlic salt and grabs an equally large container of ground pepper.
We haven’t exactly exchanged a lot of words since running into each other. At the campsite, as Liam busied himself with the duct-tape repair job of Wayne’s tent—a job the kids helped out with, too—I busied myself with trying to find Annica, who had, come to find out, headed upstream with a group to check the river conditions for tubing tomorrow.
