“Yeah. Oh.” Cort glances around the tree quick but then returns his attention to me. “I’m having trouble staying away.”
The admission is surprising. I’ve struggled with my own pull toward him, feeling guilty despite the number of the pep talks I’ve given myself to keep my distance. But with his body merely inches from mine, it’s impossible to remember why I should be staying away from him.
The ease of his lean. The brightness of his smile. The hint of exertion.
Cort is in his element as a coach and mentor. It’s a version of him that I hadn’t known before now, because people change. They evolve. They move on.
Staring up at his face, with my head tipped back against the tree, I take in this older, more mature man in front of me. A sexy version with gray in his beard and heat in his eyes as he looks at me. He’s still the Cort I remember and yet totally different from the boy I once crushed on. Even different still from the younger man I willingly gave my body to once upon a time.
This Cort is charming and sweet. And I admit, he’s got the whole DILF thing happening because nothing turns me on more than to watch him interact with my son. The positive influence he has. The protection of me around Hudson.
“You didn’t have to say anything to Hudson when he didn’t want me to play.” I sound like an ousted child, like when all my brothers played a game with their friends, and their friends didn’t wanta girlto play as well. The only girl in the family.
Cort scans my face a second. “I remember being eleven or twelve or thirteen. No one wants to be seen as a momma’s boy, even if he is a momma’s boy. But I didn’t like his tone. You’re anawesome mom. You’re here, supporting him, volunteering for his team. You’re the only mom here.”
I dip my head. “Ronnie was here.”
“And she had to be because of Kennedy. Plus, she left.” Cort tips up my chin using the side of his hand. “He’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have him,” I whisper, caught between the sudden frog in my throat and the intensity of Cort’s gaze. The pride in them. The acknowledgement. I’m not always certain I’m doing it right, but I’m trying. God knows I’m trying, and it’s nice that someone other than family sees it.
“Thank you,” I mouth, afraid I’ll break whatever we have going on here, because Cort is still holding up my chin and his focus is on my lips. He leans forward just the slightest bit, causing his breath to tickle my mouth.
My heart speeds up again, like we’re running once more toward the edge of these woods. Toward the edge of something. And I want to stay here in this hidden spot and explore all the possibilities with Cort.
“Ghost in the graveyard!”
Cort springs back from me and I collapse forward, as if his presence had been holding me upright. I also need a minute to catch my breath because whomever just found us, scared the bejesus out of me. Cort might need to climb this tree to pull me back to earth.
“Holy—” I gasp while Cort gives me a final glance before yelling past the trees, “Run!” Then he’s off and I’m quick to follow, chasing after boys scattering here and there, hollering that Coach Cort cheated.
We were outside the boundaries but only by a tree or three.
Still, Cort makes a growling noise and runs behind the boys, following them as they race willy-nilly back to the flagpole.
As for me, I’m laughing like a fiend, running behind the lotof them as most are out-sprinting me. Once they’ve all collected around the flagpole, touching it as best they can, or one another in some special rule considering themselves safe, Cort and I accept defeat.
I bend at the waist, similar to how Clint did previously, only I’m not exaggerating. I have an ache in my side from running and I need a second to catch my breath between the fright of being found . . . and the near kiss with Cort.
By nine-thirty,the lights are out in the cabins. The boys have been warned that tomorrow holds a full schedule of calisthenics and drills. I finally take a shower in Ford’s suite and return to my cabin. The security guard’s flashlight sweeps a beam across my window. The quiet of the night suggests the camp is secure and calm.
However, I’m wound up. The exhilaration of playing a child’s game. The thrill of Cort pressing me up against that tree. The near kiss and miss . . . again. And I know the perfect way to relax. To release this buzzing inside me. Reaching into my bag, I pull out myspecialtravel wand.
A fantasy already plays out in my head. Cort and I against that tree. His hand travels down my chest and squeezes my breast before lowering to?—
A sharp rap on my cabin door causes me to squeak. With my imagination running wild, I feel caught, exposed even, especially as I’m clutching my magic wand while standing in the middle of the room.
It’s after ten and all the campers should be in bed, still I worry Hudson snuck out of his cabin to see me. In a rush, I shove the wand beneath my pillow, giggle from the tension humming around me, and step toward the door, sweeping it open to find my visitor is a little too large to be my son.
“Cortland?”
Quickly, he bypasses the two steps in front of my cabin and presses his hand against my belly, gently forcing me backward. He shuts the door behind him then exhales once his back hits the wood. His head tips back a second while I stare at him.
“What the heck are you?—”
Suddenly, Cort is cupping my face and kissing me into stunned silence. His mouth doesn’t hesitate. This is no ordinary first kiss. This is captivity. I’m his willing prisoner again, and I don’t want to be released. His torture is the hunger of his mouth. The deep suction on my lips. The sweep of his tongue.
Then, he presses his forehead gently against mine. “I had to kiss you good night.”
