Page 52 of The Single Dad's Guide to Recreation

The woman darts a look between the two of us before smiling broadly and stepping to the side. “Let’s see if we can get this sorted, then.”

While the clerk and I consult, Avery and the woman introduce themselves. By the time I hand each woman a key, they’ve made plans to meet up for a drink during the cocktail hour.

“Frances O’Leary,” the woman says, shaking my hand. “Least I can do is buy you a pint.”

After studying the campus map, we’re encouraged to take one of the golf carts to our cabin, since it’s located on the other side of the lake.

“Did you ever go to summer camp?” she asks, her tone soft as we drive along the path.

“I did for a few years.”

She turns to me, brows up. “Did you have a camp sweetheart?”

“That would be a no. I was like eight, nine, ten years old.”

“You didn’t have crushes on girls back then?”

“I did. But for one, I went to a boys’ camp. And for two, girls scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“No sisters, huh? Or too many sisters?” She sits back in her seat. “Wow, I don’t even know if you have siblings.”

“I know you have one sister, and she is my favorite because she’s staying with your parents right now.”

“I also have a brother, who now owes me,” she says with a contented sigh. “And you?”

“I’m an only. My parents wanted more, I think, but couldn’t have them for some reason.”

“That’s sad.”

When I glance over, she’s squinting, her eyes likely blinded by the bright reflection of the sun on the lake. “Do you need a hat? I might have an extra in my bag somewhere. Though it’s probably kid-sized.”

She shakes her head and smiles at me, blinking away moisture from her eyes. “It’s fine.” Looking down at the map, where the clerk circled our cabin, she peers ahead before pointing to the right. “I think we’re down there.”

The cabins look rustic from the outside, but after we punch in the code and haul our bags inside, it’s obvious they’ve been upgraded considerably from the days they were chock-full of bunkbeds. “This is nothing like what my camp cabin looked like, by the way.”

Dropping her computer bag on a table behind a sofa facing what looks like a working fireplace, Avery heads farther into the space, rolling her suitcase behind her. When I hear her gasp, I rush to catch up.

“Everything okay?”

When I enter the bedroom, she’s standing in the middle of it, turning in a slow circle. “I never want to leave this room.”

I’m sure it’s very nice, but in this moment, I can only take in one beauty, and that’s Avery. Stepping closer, I reach around to gently loosen her ponytail and then run my fingers through the soft-as-silk strands. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day I first saw you.”

“I’ve wanted to do this”—her palms reach around to squeeze my ass—“since the moment I saw you.”

I mock gasp. “Avery Mills. What would the Playgroup moms think?”

She smirks. “They’d be right in line behind me.”

My eyes drink in her perfect features—wide-set, glacier blue eyes, apple red round cheeks, Cupid’s bow pink lips—while my fingers massage her scalp. She closes her eyes briefly, letting out a sigh. “That feels sooo good.”

“That’s my plan. To make you feel good.”

I feel a twinge of guilt, knowing that I’m about to make love to a woman who isn’t my wife. At the same time, I know I never felt as connected to Lisa as I do to Avery right now. “You’re the first—the only—person I’ve been with in a long time,” I whisper.

She blinks slowly, seeming to consider my words. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Drawing her close, I brush my lips over hers, teasing and tasting. Taking my time for once. “I’m glad we got here early,” I murmur between kisses. “I want to go slow. To get to know every bit of you.”

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