Page 9 of Red, White, and You

She nods and I step back onto the porch, then make my way down the steps as my old friend approaches.

Craig is dressed in nothing but swim trunks and hiking boots, a cold beer in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his already sunburned face. He’s always been one of the first to arrive, eager to get in as much time as possible for his week at camp.

“Hey, man,” he says, extending his free hand to shake mine. “It’s good to see you again, buddy.”

“Likewise, Craig. Glad you made it back again this year.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.” Craig’s been coming here once a week every summer since I started the place, occasionally booking multiple cabins for a corporate retreat or just one for himself. This time he just booked his usual single cabin, and, judging by the woman on his arm, has either brought a date with him or already accomplished what he came to do and found a single-serving friend for his stay.

When I scan the people around him, none of them register as familiar faces. “And it looks like these are all new campers.” I give them my best Camp Host smile and begin to shake their hands. “I’m Brady West. Welcome to Camp West.”

The brunette woman whose arm is linked through Craig’s widens her eyes as she shakes my hand. “Brady West… as in…?” She motions to the surrounding cabins.

I nod.

“Camp West. West Lake. The landing…” Craig motions to everything as he speaks. “Brady owns the whole shebang.”

“Welcome to paradise,” I add.

“That’s so cool!” she exclaims.

Craig grins. “I told you I knew the owner.” He looks at me. “You going to come down to the Welcome Party tonight, get acquainted with some of the newbies?” He side-eyes thewoman, then leans forward and lowers his voice. “Looks like you’ve got a few Grade A singles this year, Brady.”

“Hey,” the woman chides.

“I’mnot looking, babe. I brought my sand to the beach.” Craig motions to me. “Brady’s the perpetual bachelor.”

I laugh, shaking my head. Though I can’t control the campers, or what they get up to after dark, I at least try to be clear thathooking upisn’t one of the activities Camp West provides. It’s inevitable, though, at a summer camp for adults. They’re here for fun and freedom, and there’s no limit to that as long as everything is safe and consensual. We’ve even had a few couples return a summer or two after meeting here to get married on our dock.

But back to Craig’s question… “There’s only one camper I plan to get acquainted with tonight,” I admit.

As if my words summoned her, the screen door swings open with a loudscreechand we all turn toward the cabin as Brie stumbles out onto the porch, eyes wide and cheeks already flushing ten shades of red, like she’d been leaning against the screen to eavesdrop and hadn’t meant to make her presence known.

She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief second, then opens them and gives us a little wave.

Rolling my lips together to keep from laughing, I wave toward her in presentation.

We make small talk for a few more minutes, then they head off toward the dining hall for another round of drinks. I turn toward the cabin and Brie still stands on the top step, watching me with curiosity burning brightly in her hazel eyes.

“Perpetual bachelor, hm?”

Laughing, I shake my head. Craig’s statement could be perceived one of two ways: either I’m the bachelor who keepsto himself, or I’m the bachelor who hooks up with as many single campers as possible. “The first rule of Camp West? Never listen to Craig.”

She narrows her eyes as she watches me, questions brewing in that brilliant mind of hers. “You own this place.” A statement, not a question.

Of course I knew this conversation would happen at some point during the next week, but I didn’t expect it to be the first topic we discuss. I nod, taking the steps two at a time until we’re eye to eye. I’m close enough to touch her, and that knowledge has me balling my hands into fists at my sides. How would she react if I pulled her body against mine and made up for lost time?

Seventeenlongyears without her has my mouth watering at the prospect of wrapping her in my arms again and never letting go.

She begins backing up into the cabin and I match her step for step.

When we’re inside Cabin 17, I close the door behind me. The air sparks between us, ready to combust if we get too close, just as heady and thick with lust as it always was.

“The lake, too?”

I nod. “The whole kit and caboodle.”

“Wow.”

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