Page 16 of Summer Camp with the Mountain Man

I can’t put it off any longer so I turn to the beach and lay out my towel, so close to the water a wave from a passing jet ski could submerge it with ease. Okay, staying low, hunched over, seems to be working, just pretending to feel the water with my fingers, like it might be too cold for me. No shower could be too cold at this moment.

Rayne’s eyes widen, trained on my swim shorts, close enough to tell what’s going on down there. “What have you been doing?”

“Thinking about you,” I whisper back, as discreetly as possible before rolling into the shallow water like an aquatic Sonic the Hedgehog.

The blush that creeps over Rayne’s creamy skin, starting at her face before cascading down her curvy frame, has me dying to cool her off with my tongue. That thought isn’t helping the situation but it’s fine, the water’s doing its job concealing my problem downstairs.

“How am I supposed to concentrate on volleyball with you wearing that?” I ask quietly, my words skimming across the surface.

She smiles, bending over slowly to give me a better look at her cleavage. “I’m sorry, playing what now? I can’t say I’m familiar.”

“Bolleyball,” I correct, unable to make anything close to eye contact with her.

“Oh okay, now that I’m familiar with. Come get ’em. I mean, go get ’em, tiger. Try not to poke anyone’s eye out.”

My cousins are all jumping off the dock, a tangle of limbs trying to make it to the rest of the group first in order to pick teams. For a moment, amidst all the splashing and chaos, I feel like I’m eleven years old.

Out on the island with the other side of my family.

Not twenty years later but the following summer, that one that never came.

He promised he’d take me but somewhere between him not caring enough to keep in touch and Mom not wanting to send me across the country, it never happened.

I made something of myself, I moved on, so why does pain from a lifetime ago still hurt?

It doesn’t need to hurt anymore, I’m here now. Granted it’s with people I like a lot less, but the beautiful smile behind the veil of red hair lighting my world on fire is enough to make up for everything.

After holding my breath for so long, waiting for a life that was no longer mine to finally resume, I can breathe once again. I always knew I needed to come back, I just didn’t know why.

It was her.

Rayne’s been here every summer, waiting for me.

Waiting for life to truly begin.

EIGHT

Rayne

I could do this for the rest of my life.

Not every single day, these people are driving me insane, but I could see myself enjoying this kind of crazy a couple times a year. If I switch fiancés, do you think anyone would notice?

I want to do Fourth of July here. Christmas in Colorado sounds magical. Thanksgiving would be nice too I’m sure but dealing with Cade’s family once every six months is about all I could manage. Cade, not so much, he might need a little convincing.

But every day in between, I want to spend with him. When he’s not around, I find myself searching for him. I always notice because my smile starts to fade.

Come to think of it, I haven’t smiled in a little while now, since the cookout on the beach. I snuck off before then to get some work done at the office, missed him the entire time, until he poked his head in the backroom to surprise me on his way to the ice machine. We sat together for supper listening to my prissy fake future husband complain about everything on his plate, then Cade just sort of disappeared.

I’ve been telling myself it has to do with the way his family treats him, the little jabs have me wishing I could throw haymakers back at them in his defense, but something tells me there’s more to it. He got quiet after watching a boat disappear into the cove on Cushing Island and then he was gone.

He said he used to vacation there when he was younger, before his father decided he wanted nothing to do with the man who stole my heart like it was a cardiovascular bank heist. I was so furious over his dad not being as enthralled with Cade as I am that I forgot to ask what the story was.

I need to find him.

The Procters won’t notice I’m gone, they’re too wrapped up in an after supper belching competition, for the second day in a row. When the goal goes beyond length and volume, passing into who can get chunks territory, it’s really time for me to leave. Some of those burps are probably attracting bears from across the lake who think it’s some sort of mating call. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if Springy pops up looking to get laid.

There he is, sitting alone on a rock at the end of the outcropping, facing the private island. He looks like a still frame from a music video, all he needs is a guitar resting beside him. The way the last traces of daylight hide him in the shadows, it makes me want to climb into the picture with him, despite the swarm of blackflies he keeps swatting away. The discomfort would be worth getting in his bed.