Page 12 of Red, White, and You

He rises to his feet, the porch swing he just vacated swinging softly behind him.

“Wow,” he breathes.

Grinning, I spin in a slow circle. “Apparently I own jeans and hiking boots.”

“They look good on you.”

“Debatable.”

“It’s been way too long, Brie.”

I give him a sad smile, but I don’t know what to say. Ithasbeen too long, but admitting that changes nothing.

My life is in New York; his is obviously here in Pennsylvania.

One week together won’t alter those facts.

Brady gives a subtle nod, as if he follows my thoughts, then extends his hand toward me. “Come on. Let me show you around.”

Sliding my hand into his, I’m struck with the familiarity of this simple gesture. Decades apart, and we’re touching as if no time has passed at all. Easy and familiar, holding his hand feels like the most natural thing I’ve done in years.

He motions to the lake, then glances at me with amusement in his eyes. “That’s the lake.”

I chuckle and nod. “I see that.”

“Play your cards right, and I might invite you skinny dipping later.”

The prospect of being naked with this man—even if it is in a public lake—sends a shiver of excitement skittering down my spine. “Quite bold of you to assume I’d accept that invitation.”

He squeezes my hand. “We have water skiing, a pair of jet skis, a fishing boat, a couple of pontoons, and some inflatables”—he pauses to glance at me again—“you should have seen those in the flier. Big selling point.”

Inflatable water toys wouldn’t be the selling point for me, but what would be? Other than the camp’s owner, obviously.

As we walk, he points out various activities, or directs me to the signs that would lead me down trails toward various places. “We have all the things a typical kids’ summer camp has: archery, zip line, crafts, bonfires, theme nights, water guns and water balloons…” He motions toward a large outdoor amphitheater. “Concerts and open mic nights.” I try to hide my grimace but he catches it and laughs. “Nothing is mandatory.”

“That’s a relief.”

Brady leads me to a large swimming pool, already packed with people. A bachelorette party poses for photos on the far end, complete with matching pink bathing suits, save for the bride who’s in a white bikini with a sheer veil that hangs over her rump.

It hadn’t occurred to me that this might be a destination for something like that, but Camp West is slowly growing on me.

People wave to Brady as we continue walking. He waves back, but still grips my hand tightly, his fingers intertwined with mine. It feels good to be by his side again.

He leads me to a small cabin with a large sign above the door that readsMainOffice, holding the door for me to enter first. “On the other side of West Lake,” he continues as we step inside to the air conditioning, “there’s an adventure course, basketball court, beach volleyball, dodgeball, tennis, rock climbing…” He trails off as he reads my expression. “All right, that does probably seem like a lot.” He winks and I melt, then he reaches up and traces my cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re not going to have time for all that anyway.”

“I’m not?”Thank God.

Brady shakes his head. “I don’t plan on letting you leave my arms, Brielle.”

Butterflies kick to life in my stomach in response to the promise of his words and the heat in his eyes.

He leans forward—

“Oh, good, you’re here.”

Brady grins, then turns us toward the woman standing in the doorway at the back of the office. He motions toward her as he says, “Brie, meet Duffy, my right hand.” The girl beams and Brady adds, “Duff, this is Brie. My wife.”

My heart skips a beat, but I quickly clarify, “Ex-wife,” as I extend my hand and step toward the young redhead.

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