Page 32 of Summer in Kentbury
As if on cue, our food arrives swiftly, with the bacon sizzling and as crispy as promised. We dig into our meal, the conversation flowing easily. Sinclair steals a bite of my pancakes, and I retaliate by swiping a piece of his perfectly crispy bacon.
“Thief,” he accuses, pointing his fork at me with feigned indignation.
“All’s fair in love and breakfast,” I retort, popping a piece of the bacon into my mouth with a triumphant grin.
He clutches his heart dramatically, leaning back inthe booth. “Oh, so it’s love now, is it?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and something warmer. “Look who’s the one thinking forward and skipping steps.”
I feel my cheeks heat up, but I can’t stop the wide smile spreading across my face. “Maybe it will be soon. What are you going to do about it?”
He leans in, his voice low and intimate, sending a shiver down my spine. “Well, first, I’m going to finish these amazing pancakes. And then . . .”
“And then?” I prompt, my heart skipping a beat in anticipation.
“And then I’m going to take you out on a proper date. One that doesn’t involve syrup stains and bacon theft.”
I laugh, feeling giddy and lighthearted at his proposal. “I think I could be persuaded. Just remember, we have camp starting in a couple of hours,” I say, my voice playful yet sincere, the morning taking a turn into something unexpectedly delightful.
Chapter Eighteen
Lavender
I sit at a picnic table,surrounded by a small group of six- and seven-year-olds. The colorful chaos of pipe cleaners, glitter glue, and various crafts promising a morning filled with creativity for my eager group. Watching the tiny hands reach for the brightest colors, their chatter bubbling like a brook after spring rain, brought agentle smile to my face. We’re working on a craft project, making colorful friendship bracelets out of embroidery floss.
“Miss Lavender, look at mine,” Emma, a sprightly girl with pigtails exclaims, holding up her bracelet proudly. “I used all the colors of the rainbow.”
I grin, taking the bracelet and admiring the careful knots and bright hues. “That’s beautiful, Emma. I love how sparkly it is.”
As I help another camper untangle a particularly stubborn knot, my gaze wanders to the lake, where Sinclair is teaching a group of four- and five-year-olds the basics of swimming. He’s standing waist-deep in the water, his bare torso glistening in the sunlight, and I feel my heart skip a beat at the sight.
He’s patient and gentle with the kids, his voice carrying across the water as he encourages them to kick their legs and blow bubbles. The children giggle and splash, their little faces alight with joy and excitement, and I can’t help but smile at the scene.
One little boy, his blond hair plastered to his forehead, clings to Sinclair’s arm, his eyes wide with fear. “I’m scared, Mr. Sin,” he whimpers, his bottom lip trembling.
Sinclair kneels down in the water, bringing himself to the boy’s level. “It’s okay to be scared, buddy,” he says softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “But I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll take it slow, okay?”
The boy nods, his tiny hand gripping Sinclair’s fingers tightly.
I feel a tug on my sleeve and look down to seeEmma holding up another bracelet. “Can you help me tie it, Miss Lavender?” she asks, her eyes hopeful.
I shake myself out of my reverie, focusing back on the task at hand. “Of course, sweetie. Let’s see what we can do.”
As I work with the campers, my mind keeps drifting back to Sinclair, to the way he looks in the water, his muscles rippling and his smile bright. It’s not just his physical beauty that draws me in, though that’s certainly a factor. It’s the way he interacts with the kids, the patience and kindness he shows, the way he makes each one feel special and valued.
I steal another glance at the lake, just in time to see Sinclair scoop up a little girl and toss her playfully into the water, her shrieks of laughter echoing across the shore. He’s grinning from ear to ear and I feel a warmth spread through my chest at the sight.
“Miss Lavender, are you okay?” Sophie asks, her brow furrowed in concern. “Your face is all red.”
I feel my cheeks heat up even more, and I duck my head, focusing intently on the bracelet in my hands. “I’m fine, sweetie. Just a little warm, that’s all.”
But as I sneak another peek at Sinclair, his bare chest gleaming in the sun and his laughter carrying on the breeze, I know that it’s more than just the heat that’s making my heart race. It’s the realization that I’m falling for him, hard and fast and completely, and the thought is both thrilling and terrifying all at once.
But for now, I push those feelings aside, focusing on the happy campers and the colorful bracelets taking shape beneath our fingers. There will be time to sort out my heart later. For now, I’m content tobask in the warmth of the sun and the joy of the moment, stealing glances at the man who’s slowly but surely stealing my heart.
The rain comesout of nowhere, a sudden downpour that drenches the campgrounds and forces everyone inside. As the campers scamper into the main hall, laughing and shaking water from their hair, I can’t help but feel a sense of relief. The indoors offer a break from the constant activities and a chance to really engage with the campers in a different setting.
We decide to organize an impromptu craft session, pulling out boxes of markers, colored paper, glue, and everything else we could find. I find myself in my element, surrounded by the excited chatter of the campers and the colorful chaos of their creations. And as a bonus, Sinclair is with me during this allotted time, his presence a comforting warmth by my side.
“Miss Lavender, can you help me with this?” One of the younger campers, a little boy with big brown eyes, tugs at my sleeve, pulling me back from my thoughts.
