Page 55 of Camping with the Boss

Wade gives me what I ask for, making love to me so sweetly it hurts. And when he’s deep inside me, our bodies slick with sweat and he’s barely holding on, I memorize every detail. Every freckle on his shoulder. Every moan. Every intense stare as he holds my gaze as long as he can before squeezing his eyes shut and gasping out a shuddering breath. My orgasm hits, stealing my focus.

And then it’s over, and we smile and enjoy the buzz of good feelings while it lasts. But way too soon, Wade is sleeping and reality returns. This thing between us is temporary, no matter how real it feels. I know what I have to do.

Enjoy this while it lasts and prepare myself for when it inevitably ends.

Thursday, June 12th, 8:30 a.m.

By the next morning, my resolve to help Wade figure this outgets stronger. It’s one thing I can do for him.

Especially after he gets a message from Steph.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when he frowns at his phone instead of elaborating.

We’re walking to the main hall for breakfast.

“Nothing.” At my glare, he squeezes my arm right above the elbow. “I don’t want you to worry.”

“Oh. Perfect. That fixes everything. No longer worried,” I say, not even trying to hide the frustration in my voice.

“I—hold on.” He takes my hand and leads me off the path and behind a big oak tree. I’m rehearsing my argument in my head—do you trust me or not?—when I’m pushed against the tree and kissed. I melt—until I remember.

I push him away. “Stop trying to distract me.”

“I’m not. I swear. I’m just not good at sharing…”

I raise a brow at that. “I’m aware.” And I ignore how much I like when he gets possessive. “Stop stalling.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Meredith knows about the fight. She’s somehow keeping tabs on us. God, she probably knows everything.”

“Everything?” That comes out a little high-pitched. I clear my throat. “Everything?”

His hands gently grip my biceps as he leans in and brushes a quick kiss across my lips. “I don’t think she knows about us. But someone has been feeding her information.”

“Who do you think it is?”

He takes my hands and squeezes. His thumbs brush over my fingers as he seems to think about my question. “A week ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated. I would have said my brother. But I’m not sure if I believe that anymore.”

I nod. Now that I know him better, I can’t see Ander doing it. He hates Meredith as much as Wade. “Al?”

“Maybe. He’s a likely suspect.”

I hate that someone would do this to him. Which is funny since a few days ago, I thought he was the jerkiest bosshole ever. And now I want to protect him. “I’m going to figure this out, Wade.”

He traces the side of my face. He’s always touching me, which is a surprising but welcome revelation. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to do this.”

I pull his hand away and kiss his palm, lingering over the ridges of his scars. The reminder of what he’s been through. The betrayal. I catch his gaze. “I want to.”

He looks away—a flash of something hesitant in his eyes. Is he worried I’m too attached after three days? Or is he afraid of what I might find? It could be either. Or both.

Or none of the above. Stop jumping to conclusions, I remind myself. Gather the facts. Find the truth.

“Let’s go. Before your team comes looking for us.” I’m joking, but we’re barely back on the path when Carol runs up to us.

She holds up a hand as she tries to catch her breath. “Mr.…uh…Darian. Canyon.”

“Good morning, Carol.” Then my smile and my stomach drop. “Fishing.”

“You said you’d be there this morning.”

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