Page 8 of Red, White, and You

Oh, if only those words were true. Leaving him again at the end of this week will be the hardest part.

“It’s just one week,” he adds with a shrug. “Seven days.”

I can’t do this.

I’ve worked too hard to learn how to live without his light.

We stand locked in this battle for seconds that turn into minutes. Camp life continues around us, no one paying any attention to the way I’m stuck in place, riveted by his gaze and already breaking inside from the knowledge that I have him within my reach again.

And will have toleavehim again too.

Tears prick my eyes. Thank God they’re hidden behind my sunglasses.

But he doesn’t push me, still as patient as ever.

Because my mouth clearly has a mind of its own, it opens. “One week,” I finally concede, the words shocking me even as they flow from my own lips.

Again, he shrugs as if we’re discussing the weather and not this life-altering decision. “One week.”

It’s not that simple, but I can’t refuse him. Can’t refuse this opportunity to get to know him again.

So I nod.

And I think it’s a mistake, but I can’t take it back. Not when every cell of my being aches to close the distance between us. Not when my lungs beg to be filled with his scent. And my body screams to be wrapped up in his arms.

Smiling triumphantly, he starts down the steps toward me. “All right then, let’s get you settled.”

Settled?I cringe as I scan the cabin and the surrounding forest, then watch the people clamoring all around us, their voices loud and faces animated. I look back at Brady and raise my eyebrows.

“As settled as you can be,” he acknowledges with a wink, knowing me all too well, as if time hasn’t changed us at all.

Somewhat reluctantly, although most definitely intrigued, I release Clarence’s hand and say my goodbyes. He climbs back into the car and I watch as he drives away, acutely aware of my ex-husband’s presence beside me.

As the black sedan disappears over the crest of a hill, I brace myself. No turning back now.

Deep inhale. Slow exhale.This is it. I’m actually doing this.

Brady hauls the duffel strap over his shoulder then grabs the handles of my two large suitcases, smiling smugly as he walks toward the cabin.

With butterflies kicking up a storm in my belly, I follow this unfairly gorgeous man up the steps.

Once upon a time, I would have followed him anywhere.

I almost chuckle at the thought; seems even two decades couldn’t change that fact.

Brady

I open the door and motion for Brie to enter first. Because it’s polite, yes, and because I want to watch her, memorize the sway of her hips, the swish of her blonde hair. I want to breathe her in, so I do, inhaling her signature scent of orange blossom and lilac as she strides inside. She’s worn that perfume for as long as I can remember, and the familiar aroma kicks up a flood of feelings, memories, and lust. I’m instantly desperate to press my nose against her throat and breathe her in.

But I’m careful not to touch her as she passes, fearful that one touch will lead to more and I won’t be able to stop touching her until I’ve made up for all the years my hands have ached for her.

“Hey, Brady!” Craig calls from a few cabins away. “I’ve been looking for ya!”

I tense at the familiar voice, irritated by the interruption even though I shouldn’t be. Being accessible is in the job description. Greeting each guest, welcoming them for the first or fifteenth time, is what I do.

But this moment feels sacred, and I realize as I look at my ex-wife, that I want to lock myself in this cabin and not share her with anyone for the entire week that she’s mine.

I set the suitcases just inside the door, then offer her an apologetic smile. “Give me just one sec, Brie.”

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