The Danger With Fireworks (Holiday Romance Book 3)

by Robin Daniels

  As I approached the cabin, I noticed someone leaving the girl’s room. I was still kind of far out and all the lights were off, including the porch light. But the table lamp was on in the boys’ side, so it was just bright enough to identify the figure. The someone leaving our cabin was Clint. He looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was around, then cracked the screen door and leaned back in, giving a long kiss to whoever stood behind the darkened mesh.

  My brain started swirling again. All the agonizing I’d done twenty minutes ago was for nothing. That’s what I get for thinking a pretty girl might pick someone like me over someone like Clint. I now had unequivocal proof: Chloe and Clint were together. But why the cloak and dagger? Vivian didn’t seem like the type of boss who would care if Chloe was dating her supervisor. It’s not like Clint was in charge of anything important.

  I diverted just a bit so I’d cross him on the path. He was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, whistling some poppy tune. “Hey, man.” He jerked his head at me.

  I nodded back. He wasn’t worth the mouthful of expletives I wanted to give him. “Have a good one.”

  As he passed me, he grinned and winked. “Already did.”

  I’m not easily ruffled, but right now, there was no doubt about it—I was royally irked. I stomped up the porch, letting the door slam behind me as I went in. I was annoyed with Chloe for her kissing comment. I was annoyed with me for thinking I had a chance with her. I was annoyed with Clint for being…well, Clint. My temper was warming up, and I needed to cool it off before I marched to the other room and told Chloe where she could stick all her flirting and touching and pillow talk on the porch swing.

  I broke the five-minute shower rule and let the lukewarm water run down my head as I tried to think of something other than my anger. The noise in the girl’s room grew louder. There was muffled music playing and soft laughter. Marissa pounded on the door. “Hurry up. Some of us need to pee.”

  I almost snapped off something rude, but this wasn’t Marissa’s fault. “Getting out!” I yelled and turned off the water.

  Matt was M.I.A., which was good, because I didn’t feel like being social or dealing with his drunk on life antics right now. I was about to get in bed when there was a light knock on the door. As usual, Chloe popped her head in without waiting for an invitation. Her smile faltered when she saw me turning down the covers on my bed.

  “Aren’t you going to come hang out on the swing?”

  “Not tonight,” I answered with a gravelly voice.

  She frowned, looking concerned. “Everything all right?”

  “It’s fine, I’m just tired.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She had the nerve to sound disappointed. “Sleep well.”

  “Thanks,” I grumbled, though I was pretty sure she’d be sleeping much better than I would.

  “Someone’s crabby this morning,” Matt taunted me as I stood at the coffee station, pouring a third packet of sugar into my cup. I didn’t love coffee, but I didn’t fall asleep until after two. It’d be a long day without it.

  “I’m not crabby. I have a headache.”

  His eyes darted between my hands and face as I discarded the empty packet and reached for a fourth. “The caffeine might help, but all that sugar won’t.”

  “You’re right.” I sighed and put the sugar back. I added some cream and grabbed a stirring straw, then walked toward the front porch.

  “Aren’t you coming to the table?”

  “No, I have some stuff to do.”

  He looked confused. Normally food was my number-one priority in the morning, but, minus the coffee, I was walking out empty-handed. “What kind of stuff?”

  “Just stuff. I’ll see you at lunch.”

  I was in a better mood by noon. I’d run an improv workshop that morning, and Derek was in the class. He was hardcore flirting with a girl that wasn’t Alyssa. So when it was his turn, I assigned him and this plain, skinny chick named Amber to improvise a scene where they got caught kissing at the make-out bush. He turned ten shades of red. Amber wasn’t the girl Derek had just been hitting on, either. That was intentional. She was obviously thrilled about the pairing. Derek, not so much.

  I’d have a chat with him later about how to treat women. But until then, I felt like I’d won another round for the underdogs. And that victory put me back on track for accomplishing my summer goal. It’d be a little harder now since I couldn’t use my relationship with Chloe to make Clint jealous. But I’d find a way to teach him a lesson.

  As I stood on the porch at the lodge, I debated whether to go in. I still didn’t want to face my family, but I wouldn’t be able to skip two meals without raising suspicion. Or dying of hunger. Finally, I got in line, grabbed five pieces of pizza, and dropped on the bench next to Marissa. She glanced at her single slice, then over at my plate and said, “I still hate you. Maybe even more now.”

  “Why don’t you live a little?” I asked while stuffing a huge bite in my face.

  “Because I’m not a human trash compactor, and pizza is my weakness. Four slices of heaven now will equal four hours of hell later when I have to work it off.”

  “Why are you so worried about what you eat? You look great.”

  The compliment caught her off guard. “Thanks,” she said modestly. “But my coach will know if I put too much junk in my body while I’m here. He’s got some kind of crazy sixth sense. If I come back to school all sluggish, he’ll make an example out of me.”

  “You play college sports?” I asked, a little shocked.

  “Yep. Soccer.” She took a bite of an apple and studied me. “Why do you sound so surprised? Is it the eyebrow bar? That always trips people up.”

  “No.” I thought for a moment. Why did it surprise me? She looked athletic. “I guess it’s the art thing. I don’t know many artists who are also competitive athletes. They just don’t seem to go together.”

  “We’re a rare breed.” She grinned, then took another bite. “Almost as rare as redheads with tans.”

  “Valid point.” I nodded in concession. Marissa was clever and pretty. She had a great body. We probably had more in common than I did with Chloe. Why couldn’t I have had a crush on her? I didn’t do anything the easy way when it came to girls. It was my curse.

  Chloe arrived with Matt, Shelly, and Clint. The guys took seats across the table, but instead of sitting next to Clint, Chloe wedged herself between Marissa and me. Clint didn’t look happy about her choice. But he played it off coolly by patting the bench and inviting Shelly to sit next to him. She hesitated for a second, then took the offer.

  “Hey, Garland. How are you feeling?” Chloe asked. “Matt said you had a headache. I was worried when you skipped breakfast.”

  I glanced over. She honestly looked worried. “I feel much better now,” I replied.

  She swiped her hand across her forehead. “Phew! I thought maybe aliens had probed your brain and were mind controlling you. It was the only plausible reason I could imagine for why you’d skip breakfast. Plus, I think a brain probe would cause a nasty headache.” I tried not to smile, but I couldn’t help it. A single burst of laughter slipped out.

  “Hey,” Matt said. “A brain probe is better than a butt probe.”

  Marissa paused, with her pizza halfway to her mouth. She set it carefully on her plate, then lunged across the table and whacked Matt on the side of the head. “Really, Matt? We’re trying to eat here.”

  “Ouch! It’s the truth.”

  Marissa gave him an evil glare. She raised her hand, and he covered his head with his arms. Chloe rested her elbow on the table and stroked her chin with her fingers, as if she were playing with a beard. “I think I’m going to get an extra-large T-shirt and write I love my siblings on the front. Whenever you guys fight like this, I’ll make you wear it together until you can get along.”

  “You’re like my real mom,” Matt grumbled. Then he smirked. “Only hotter.” He and Clint reached across Shelly for a fist bump.


  “I’m not hungry anymore,” Shelly said. She stood, grabbed her plate, and stormed off. We all watched as she dumped the rest of her lunch in the trash can, put her dishes in the dirty bin, then walked outside.

  “Good job, morons,” Marissa said.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  Matt snickered. “Maybe she got probed, too.”

  “I better go check on her.” Chloe started to stand, but Clint held his hand out.

  “No, I’ll go.” He left his food on the table and jogged out the door, calling Shelly’s name.

  Shelly’s outburst put a damper on the mood, so I excused myself, making up a story about getting something from the cabin before class. “Do you want company?” Chloe asked.

  “Nah. I’m kind of in a hurry.” Her brow furrowed, and her bottom lip stuck out. I could tell she wasn’t playing. I’d genuinely hurt her feelings. I felt like trash, so I gave her a small smile and said, “But I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

  “Okay,” she replied quietly.

  As upset as I was, I didn’t want to be mad at her. Chloe was my friend, and while I felt misled by all the flirting, she’d never come out and said she was into me. Or that she wasn’t dating Clint. It was my fault for reading the situation wrong. And it was jerky of me to treat her badly because of it.

  “Hey, can I talk to you?” Chloe asked. She’d followed me out the door after dinner.

  “Sure,” I replied. I slowed down for her to catch up, but kept walking toward our cabin.

  “Are you mad at me or something? You’ve been kind of standoffish since yesterday.”

  I sighed. “No. I’m not mad.”

  She grabbed my elbow and pulled me to a stop, then stood in front of me, forcing me to meet her eyes. “Were you mad?” I couldn’t lie to her when she was looking at me like that.

  So I bent the truth. “I was frustrated. It was stupid. I’m over it.”

  She put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. Her long ponytail swung to the side. “Are you going to explain why?”

  “It would be counterproductive.” I took a step to leave. She wouldn’t let me.

  “But don’t you want to tell me off or something?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t want to tell you off.”

  “It might make you feel better.”

  “I do feel better.”

  “You’re such a liar.” She put her hands up in front of her face and made them into fists.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, sounding more exasperated than I was.

  “If you aren’t going to talk to me, and you aren’t going to yell at me, then we’re going to settle this the old-fashioned way.” Chloe puckered up her lips and squinted her eyes in an attempt to make a mad face. She looked completely ridiculous…and utterly adorable.

  I had to suck in my cheeks to keep from smiling. “By fighting?”

  “Yeah, by fighting.” She started bouncing around and throwing fake jabs like a boxer.

  “I’m not fighting you.” I stuck my hands in my pockets to prove my point.

  “Well, I’m fighting you, so you should at least try and block me.” She actually started punching. Not hard, though. It felt like getting poked with a twig. “I could do this all day, Garland. If you don’t protect yourself, you’re going to get a bruised kidney. I might even rupture your spleen.” She was like a kitten picking on a gorilla. I lost control.

  “Okay, that’s it.” I swooped down, grabbed her by the waist, and threw her over my shoulder. “You’re going down.”

  She stopped swinging and started giggling. “That’s more like it. What are you going to do? Throw me in the lake?”

  “Ooh, that’s an excellent idea.” If we’d been closer, I probably would have.

  “Be reasonable. You’ll never make it all the way to the lake with me over your shoulder like this.” She wasn’t even struggling against me now. In fact, she’d propped her elbow on my back and was resting her chin on her fist, enjoying the ride like I was her personal manservant.

  “Good point.” I turned around and headed for the back of the lodge where the door to the kitchen was.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “I’m locking you in the fridge.”

  That got her going. She started kicking and wiggling again. “Don’t do it.”

  “Why not? I thought you loved the fridge.”

  “It’s cold in there. Besides, your plan is flawed. You don’t know the code.”

  “I don’t need the code,” I replied as I entered the kitchen. Benji was washing pots, and he glanced up when he heard the screen door creaking. “Hey, Benji. Could I get you to open the refrigerator for me?” He took one look at who I was hauling and laughed robustly.

  “I’d be happy to.” He wiped his hands on a dish towel, then punched in the code. “Make sure to put her toward the back. That’s where I keep the chocolate.”

  I set her down in an empty milk crate that was stacked on two large boxes of produce. Brushing my hands off, I said, “I’ll be back for you in an hour or two.” I turned around and took a few steps.

  “Stop! You win. You’re the best, I’m the worst. Don’t leave me, please.”

  I spun around. Her knees were crammed against her chest, and her legs were flailing as she tried to get enough leverage to extract herself. The crate wobbled and tipped to the side. I dashed over and caught her just as she was about to tumble to the floor. She threw her arms around my neck. Now I was holding her like a groom carries his bride across the threshold.

  “My hero.” She sighed heavily and fluttered her eyelashes at me. I chuckled and set her on the ground, but she wouldn’t let go of my neck. She hugged me as she rested her head against my chest. “I mean it, Garland. Whatever I did, I really am sorry.”

  Instinctively, my arms snaked around her waist. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

  She tilted her chin up and gazed into my eyes. “I don’t like it when you aren’t talking to me. It kind of sucks. Like, a lot.”

  Our faces were close. The buzz in my veins was back. I couldn’t focus on anything but her lips. I don’t think I’d ever wanted to kiss a girl as much as I wanted to kiss Chloe right then. I wanted it badly enough that I almost said screw it. Maybe I was delusional, but it felt like she wanted me to.

  I’d had enough temptation for one day. I needed to cool down before I started steaming. The refrigerator sure as heck wasn’t doing its job. I slid my hand up to the back of her head and pressed it against my shoulder, then wrapped my other arm around her back and squeezed her in a friendly bear hug.

  Chloe grunted and tore herself away from me. “Mm, chocolate!” She grabbed a candy bar from the nearest shelf. I swear, she had the shortest attention span of anyone I’d ever met. It was surprisingly helpful at the moment. She opened the candy and split it in half. “Want some?”

  “I think those are for s’mores.”

  “Benji told you to put me next to the chocolate. That’s his way of saying he expects me to have some, as long as I don’t take it all.”

  “And that’s your way of justifying thievery.” I shook my finger in disapproval but took the offering anyway and followed her out into the kitchen.

  Benji was still washing dishes, standing at the sink with his back to us. There’s no way he heard us talking in the fridge. The door had closed behind me when we walked in. Without turning around, he said, “If you took more than one bar, it’s coming out of your allowance, missy.”

  “Don’t worry. I saved you some. Thanks, Benji!” We headed up the path toward our cabin. She downed her treat in record time, and as she was licking her fingers clean, she said, “Now that you don’t hate me anymore, I need your help.”

  “With what?”

  “You have to agree to help me first.”

  “That sounds suspect.”

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?”

  “Just promise you’ll he
lp me first.”

  I knew she’d keep asking until I said yes. Whatever she wanted, it couldn’t be that bad. And I still felt guilty about being a jerk, so I gave in. “Fine. I promise to help. Now tell me what I agreed to.”

  Chloe clapped and gave me a huge, toothy smile. “Being my dance partner.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “For the variety show.”

  Each year, on Independence Day, Vivian put together a huge celebration, complete with a barbecue by the lake and fireworks. As part of the festivities, the staff always did a talent show at the amphitheater for the campers. Participation was mandatory. I’d planned to do a skit or something easy. But now I’d been duped into doing the one thing I was truly self-conscious about. “That’s not fair.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  I thought it was odd that she’d asked me to dance with her instead of her boyfriend. “Why me? I bet Clint would happily be your partner.”

  “A) Clint is already performing a song on his guitar, B) he’s only an inch taller than me, which isn’t ideal for a dance partner. And C) I’d rather do it with you.”

  This was unfair on a whole new level. She shouldn’t say things like that. It was mean. Except, I couldn’t get mad because I was pretty sure she didn’t know she was doing it. Or the effect which comments of that nature had on me. I made a last-ditch effort to weasel out. “I told you, I’m a lousy dancer.”

  “You can’t be that bad.”

  “I have three left feet.” I gave her a puppy dog pout.

  She chuckled. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  We’d reached the porch, and I veered toward my door. “We’ll never be ready in time. It’d take me a month to learn a dance without tripping every other step. The fourth is this Saturday. That’s only five days away, if you count tonight.”

  “Then I guess we better start tonight!” She was positively glowing—because she had no idea what she was getting herself into.