I smile to myself and look out the window. From what I’ve seen of Joel so far, he’s far from scary. “Tell me more about your military life.”
Joel settles into his seat, and a wistful smile passes his lips. “I had a great team. I miss that for sure, being part of something.”
“Don’t you have that now with Jake’s Retreat?”
He glances at me. “There’s a real community there, but it’s nothing like being in a hostile environment, hunting bad guys and knowing the man next to you has your back. We were a solid unit.”
He has a faraway look in his eyes, the same as my dad used to get if he was home for too long. He craved the action as much as Joel did. No matter how much I pleaded for him not to go, he always left, until he got a posting stateside. From then on, it was moving from base to base, uprooting everything and moving on. If he missed the action of deployment, he never said so.
“You miss the action.”
“I miss the team,” he stresses. “Even after I was made commander, they were my team. We were tight.”
“I didn’t know you were commander.” The thought of Joel commanding a SEAL team thrills me more than it should. He’s got a quiet presence about him, and I bet he was great at his job.
“It feels like a lifetime ago.” He smiles wistfully. “These days I struggle to command my own household.”
“Teenagers can be like that.”
He tosses a look over his shoulder, no doubt checking in on Dana. When he faces the front again, there’s a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We talk easily for the next two hours until the bus pulls into the lunch stop. I choose a turkey sandwich and eat with the students.
With a full belly and the gentle hum of the bus, I doze off.
I wake up as the bus slows down on a gravel road. My head has slipped onto Joel’s shoulder, and I jerk awake.
“Sorry.” A strand of hair’s caught in my mouth and I swipe it into place, hoping I haven’t dribbled on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I fell asleep”
Joel smiles, and in my sleepy haze it seems like the smile is all for me. I notice the small crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the silver flecks in his dark stubble.
“It’s fine. The music drowned out your snoring.”
My mouth drops open in horror, and I scramble to sit up properly. “I was snoring?”
He chuckles. “Just breathingreallyheavily.”
I cover my face with my hands to hide my embarrassment, which makes Joel laugh harder. “I’m just messing with you.”
The bus stops in front of a wide wooden gate, and the driver jumps down to open it. A sign reads Pine Creek Camp: Home of Happy Campers. The driveway is thick with mud, remnants of the storm that’s only just passed. But the driver gets the bus through okay and takes us up a long, wide drive carved into the woods. On either side are large sycamore trees with dense undergrowth. I peer out the window, willing the heat from my cheeks to dissipate.
We pull up in front of a wooden building, and the driver cuts off the engine. I run my hands through my hair and use a hair-tie from my wrist to secure it in a ponytail before grabbing my clipboard. Joel stands up, and I brush past him, trying to ignore the heat that jumps between us.
I stand in the aisle and address the students.
“Grab your gear, let’s go.”
I catch Joel’s eye, and he gives me a small nod before heading down the stairs of the bus. He gets to work unloading the bags while I round up the students.
But my gaze keeps finding him, always aware of where he is, even as I field questions and tick off names. My awareness is on the ex-Navy SEAL commander, wondering what it would feel like to run my hand over his stubble.
8
JOEL
Twenty minutes after arriving, Brooke has the students rounded up and seated in the dining area of the main camp. There are round tables here and, in the corner, some low couches. The camp staff are in the open kitchen chopping vegetables and preparing dinner. I notice Bruce, our driver, now has a potato peeler in hand. It seems everyone shares the chores here.
Brooke stands in front of the group, wielding her clipboard and instructing students on where to drop their bags.
