“Ramshackle?”
I give his arm a gentle nudge before opening the car door. “It’s perfect.”
“I think the lodge’s porch railing is being held together with zip ties.”
“This camp has character.”
“Seriously, Avah. We know they rent the location. I could helpthem buy land to build a permanent facility. If the Johnsons let me partner?—”
“Patience, young grasshopper,” I tell him with a smirk then climb out and grab my weekend bag from the backseat.
Jeremy’s got his own duffel slung over one shoulder and is looking around the property like the network of woodchip paths between cabins is edged with dog turds instead of old railroad ties.
“Don’t be a snob.”
His gaze cuts to me. “I’m not a snob. I’m practical.”
“Believe it or not, a building with your name on it isn’t the answer to every question.” I keep my voice gentle because I know the impulse comes from a good place.
“There are no buildings with my name on them,” he protests.
“How about oncology fellowships and cancer centers?”
“They insisted,” he mutters.
“Sure they did,” I agree, my tone only mildly patronizing. His eyes narrow, but he can’t quite hide the way his lips twitch.
I take his hand and squeeze. “Instead of deciding for them, you need to spend the next two days listening and learning what the Johnsons and the NorthStar community actually need. That’s how you make a real difference.”
He holds my eyes for a beat, and I brace for the pushback. Jeremy does not enjoy being told he’s wrong. It’s one of his less endearing qualities, although I still find it oddly adorable. And I really like telling him he’s wrong.
“You’re right.”
I blink.
“Do you ever get tired of being right when you boss me around?”
“Nope.”
He flashes a smile that is one-hundred percent boyish charm, and my chest clenches hard enough to steal my breath. The truth is, every time he allows me to have control without making me pay for it later in some small cruel way, I fall a little further into anemotional nosedive I have no idea how to pull out of. Not that I’d want to even if I could.
Obviously, it’s too soon for how hard I’ve caught feelings for this man. The smart move is to keep both feet on solid ground and stop letting my heart make decisions my brain knows are ridiculous.
My heart could give a rip.
“Avah? Jeremy?” Mariel Johnson walks toward us from the lodge porch with a wide smile. She’s wearing a NorthStar Way T-shirt tucked into wide leg jeans with well-worn hiking boots. Behind her trails a young blonde woman carrying a clipboard against her chest. She’s in her mid-twenties, with a French braid to the middle of her back and a Patagonia vest over a NorthStar polo.
“Welcome to caregiver camp.” Mariel pulls me into another one of her patented warm hugs, which still catches me off guard, then extends a hand to Jeremy. “We’re so glad you’re here. This is Annie Marts, my assistant. She’ll be your go-to for anything you need this weekend.”
Annie is polite as she shakes my hand, but her smile widens and her eyes brighten when she turns to Jeremy. Did she just hold his grip three seconds too long? Of course she did. He’s handsome as sin, an irresistible combination of broad-shouldered billionaire and awkward tech geek. His dark eyes manage to look both intense and somewhat bewildered as he pulls his hand back and tucks it into the front pocket of his jeans. I’m sure he doesn’t realize it, but the return smile he gives her could seriously decimate the already struggling polar ice caps.
A sharp spike of jealousy shoots through my stomach even though I don’t get to feel possessive about a man I’m possibly pretending to date for money I refuse to take.
Suddenly, he shifts closer to me, his hand settling against the small of my back. He doesn’t make it seem like a big deal. His attention remains on Mariel as he asks about the schedule for theevening, and he nods at something Annie says about the welcome packets. But his hand stays put.
If I were smart, I’d step away and create the distance that keeps this arrangement in its lane. I lean into his palm instead.
“Let’s get you settled.” Mariel and Annie turn toward a narrow path winding through the trees.
