Fearless

by Marlie May

  That voice in the changing room…Of course.

  Eli nudged his soda can toward the open grassy area. “There’s Coop now.”

  Naked-man strode our way, dressed in khaki shorts and a patterned brown tee. Eighteen-year-old Cooper Talon had given me heart palpitations. A fully mature Cooper might bring on cardiac arrest.

  He stalled in front of me and grunted.

  I blinked up at him, and my voice squeaked. “Cooper.”

  “In the flesh.” His deep, raspy tone sparked through me. There was no mistaking the humor in his gray-blue eyes. Beautiful eyes he no longer hid behind thick glasses.

  Stepping forward, I hugged him. His free hand slid around my waist, and his scent filled my senses with fresh air and warm skin, plus a subtle hint of spice.

  “You look great, Ginny,” he said by my ear. “Nice to see you.”

  I snorted. “Nice to see you, too.” Eli’s buddy and my old high school crush. I couldn’t equate that shy teenager with this gorgeous man holding me now.

  Releasing me, he stepped back. “No one was here earlier, so I left my things in my trunk. I’ll go get them.”

  “Need help?” I asked.

  “Nope, I’ve got it.” He flopped his wet suit and towel over the line we’d strung between two trees and walked toward the parking lot above the campground.

  I stared at his backside as he moved. Even clothed, he had a nice butt. Nice legs, too, with just the right amount of hair dusting his calves. “When did Cooper grow up?”

  Eli frowned. “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” I shouldn’t have spoken. No need to let on that my libido had locked onto this Cooper as easily as it had the younger version twelve years ago. Striding to the clothesline, I pulled off Cooper’s suit and towel to hang them properly.

  “You think Coop’s changed that much?” Eli asked as he stood. Winching, he rubbed his thigh.

  I shrugged and clipped my towel beside Cooper’s. I needed to get over my absorption with my brother’s friend. For all I knew, he was married with three kids. Through the years, Eli had shared details about Cooper’s deployments in the Middle East, but nothing personal. “You know if Cooper has a girlfriend?”

  Eli’s brow narrowed, filling me in on the fact that my interest had come across beyond casual. “You’re not looking at Coop like that, are you? Don’t even go there. You moved home—for good, you said. And Coop lives out west. He’s career military. I doubt he’s ready to move back to Crescent Cove when his battalion plans to deploy overseas soon.”

  “I only asked a general question.”

  Eli strolled closer. “I’m not warning you off—”

  “Because you know I’d deck you if you did.” Try to, anyway, if I could reach. My brother—and Cooper—had a good foot on my five-foot-four frame.

  “That’s not what I meant at all.” He groaned and scratched his head, mussing his thick blonde hair that was much like mine, only shorter. “You can go out with whoever you want. You know that. But I’d hate to see you get hurt. Coop’s…”

  I couldn’t read the emotions flicking across his face. “Cooper’s what?”

  “Not settling down material.”

  Ducking underneath the line, I eased past him. “Maybe I’m not settling down material, either.”

  “What about Zen?”

  “He and I were nowhere near settled.” I’d met Zen in Paris over a year ago, and we traveled together after that. At his urging, we’d gone to Croatia and then to Istanbul. I hadn’t loved him. If anything, I’d stayed with him because seeking the perfect photo could be lonely, and he was a decent companion. “We broke up ages ago. Before…”

  If only I could forget what happened in Istanbul as easily as I’d forgotten my former boyfriend.

  The horror of that moment spiked through me. If Zen had been with me that day, those men might not have—

  “Seems to me you’ve become the settling down kind, now,” Eli said. “Bought a building with an apartment on the second floor. Opened a photography business that’s doing great already.”

  I fumbled with my tent flap. “I didn’t mean anything when I asked about his personal life.” Liar. “I was just making small talk.” Double liar. “I’m not interested in anything more than friendship with Cooper.” I nodded to solidify my argument. A third lie piled on top of the others. From Eli’s snort, I hadn’t convinced him any more than I had myself.

  Gravel crunched behind me, and I turned.

  “I dropped my keys.” Cooper bent forward to grab them off the ground. A speculative gleam filled his eyes when he directed them my way. “I’ll go get that tent now.”

  Perfect. Nothing good ever came from gossiping about someone behind their back.

  Squirming, I stepped into my tent and zipped the door closed behind me. Hunched over because I couldn’t stand upright, I untied my bathing suit top and tossed it aside, and shimmied out of my bottoms. Looking around, I frowned. Where were my shorts and t-shirt? I could swear I’d left them on the foot of my air mattress.

  The idea that someone had been inside my tent and moved them gave me pause.

  “Do not do this to yourself,” I whispered. “You’ve freaked out once today already. Your stuff’s around here somewhere.”

  Calm words couldn’t prevent my gaze from flicking around the tent interior, seeking someone lurking inside the tight space with me. Although it was humid, the warmth barely penetrated my skin.

  My gaze was pulled to my pillow, where a mini-tile painting waited for me, and my body loosened. While I was swimming, Eli must’ve dropped off his latest treasure.

  Moving around the mattress, I found my clothing lying on the floor beside it and dressed quickly. I flopped onto the bed and studied the tiny painting of the view from the top of Cadillac Mountain. It had been years since we’d hiked to the peak together, and I smiled at the memory.

  As a teenager, Eli had started painting with watercolors before moving on to oils. One of his larger works hung in my living room. A few weeks ago, he’d started leaving me little painted tiles like this one. The last had been of Acadia Park, a place we’d visited a few times while growing up. I tucked the tile inside my backpack for safekeeping, planning to add it to my mini art collection.

  While unzipping the tent flap to step outside, I renewed my determination to regain my life.

  Istanbul was a random event.

  It wouldn’t haunt me any longer.

  2

  Cooper

  I strode up toward the parking lot, where I’d left my rental car. Not paying attention, I almost ran into a hooded guy darting from another trail that connected with mine. I halted to let the man go ahead of me—it was clear he would’ve slammed into me if I hadn’t. Breathing hard, the jerk elbowed past, heading in the same direction as me.

  Damn hot for a sweatshirt, but what did I know? Maybe he’d just come from the lake and was cold. None of my business, anyway. I had other things to occupy my mind. Like setting up my tent and drowning my irritation about what I’d overheard in a beer or two.

  Twelve long years should’ve cauterized Ginny from my brain. It wasn't like she’d haunted me or anything. After all, I'd slept with a woman I’d gone to boot camp with. I’d enjoyed my share of quick relationships between tours overseas. And I’d lived with and almost married Annie, a woman I’d dated while stationed in California, before we ended things a year ago. Plenty of women had passed through my life since I’d buried my desire for my best friend’s younger sister back in high school.

  We met in my junior year, and her honey brown eyes caught me up and dragged me down to the bottom of the deepest sea, where only she existed. To keep from staring at her all the time, I pretended she didn’t exist. As if that would impress a girl. I’d wanted to act on my interest, but a seventeen-year-old making a play for his best friend’s fifteen-year-old sister was a touchy matter. First, she might’ve turned me down, making every second I spent at their place torture. If things hadn’t worked out, it
could’ve ruined my and Eli’s friendship. And Eli might’ve flat-out told me I wasn’t good enough for her.

  In my wildest dreams, I’d hoped to take her out someday. Show the world what she meant to me. Thirty hours a week at the supermarket brought in some cash, but after Dad took most of it for bills, I couldn’t afford to ask her to go to the movies with me or even for ice cream. My hopes of getting closer to her crashed when my father kicked me out after graduation. The military offered me a new home, but it pulled me away from her forever.

  Last I heard, she was still traveling overseas. I sure hadn’t expected to meet up with her again while I was buck-ass naked in a campground changing room. When she told me someone was chasing her, my protective instincts kicked in. The awkward kid who’d itched to talk to her back in high school had emerged from the dark cave where I’d penned him, responding as if it had only been seconds since I’d last seen her.

  And here she was again, as unobtainable today as she’d been back then. From her sisterly hug and the comment I overheard, she’d tucked me back into the older brother slot I’d filled when I was a skinny high school nerd. The military had toughened me up, and endless workouts had broadened my shoulders and chest, but the new me still wasn’t enough to impress her.

  Reaching the parking lot, I popped open my trunk. A car backed out a few spaces down and churned toward me, flinging dirt behind it. Brow narrowing, I shifted around to the side of my vehicle while it went past. Dust stung my eyes. When the vehicle reached the main drive, it picked up speed, sending rocks pinging around me. Local shrapnel. It was all I could do not to grab my nonexistent helmet and shout for my buddies to take cover.

  “Slow down, asshole.” Doubtful the guy heard me with the windows up. But, shit, this was a public place. Someone could get hurt.

  The vehicle skipped the stop sign and squealed out onto the pavement, heading toward town.

  Shaking my head, I returned to my trunk. I set my cooler on the ground and then looped the tent strap over my shoulder. Nothing like spending a weekend in a one-man pup tent. But I’d scrounged out worse places to crash in the Middle East, sleeping with my gun as my only companion. After locking the car, I grabbed the cooler and walked back to the campsite to put up what would become my new domain for the next three nights.

  “I’ll be right back.” Ginny gestured toward the building housing the bathrooms the second I arrived. She tensed on the edge of our campsite, frowning. “You guys aren’t going anywhere while I’m away, are you?”

  “’Course, not,” Eli said. Not sarcastic, just reassuring.

  Clouds fled her face, replaced by a soft smile that punched me in the gut. The last of my air wheezed out.

  “Thanks,” she said while I relearned to breathe. “We should light the grill when I get back and start dinner.”

  “Sounds great.” I doubted she heard me because she’d already spun away. Paying more attention to her than setting up, I fumbled with my tent bag, sliding out the sack with the poles.

  Ginny as a teenager had been sweeter than cotton candy at a summer’s fair. Doe-like limbs. Curves that only hinted at the lushness she’d grow into. And a sense of humor that lit a spark inside me that would never die down.

  Stooped forward, Eli pulled the nylon tent from the bag. With a flick, he extended it outward beside one of the others.

  “Coop.” Eli grunted and said it again, louder, “Cooper.”

  “What?” I kept staring at Ginny.

  “I’m gonna have to ask you to back off from my sister.”

  Had I been that obvious? I hadn’t been the face-heating kind since Mom died when I was thirteen, but my cheeks sure burned now. My curt nod was worthy of a Master Chief disciplining me for due cause.

  “Ginny’s been through something traumatic recently,” Eli said. “She’s…vulnerable.” Reaching across the canvas surface, he grabbed the poles from my unresisting fingers and began linking them together.

  A growl rumbled in my chest. “Someone hurt her?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not my story to tell.” Eli straightened and pulled the tent up, securing the pole in the ground stay.

  I studied Eli’s face but couldn’t infer anything from the sun-creased lines.

  “She needs to focus on finding herself right now,” Eli said softly. He handed me the empty spike bag. “And you’ve got eight years left to serve before you retire.”

  More than halfway toward twenty years, I’d be a fool to cut from the military now.

  “Yep.” I could see where Eli was taking this conversation and didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “You told me you were headed back overseas soon. Another tour in the Middle East?”

  “Yep.” Although I’d been sent on tour multiple times during the past twelve years, I’d volunteered for my last few deployments. A Seabee carried a gun and was called upon to use it, but I was part of a construction battalion. Though Eli had been discharged from the military after being wounded, combat wasn’t the norm.

  “You’re only in Crescent Cove for a short time. It would be wrong to let my sister start thinking you could offer her more.”

  Valid point. Not that it would ever come to something like that. “I’m here long enough to get the house cleaned out. That’s it.”

  Eli placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry about your dad. Even though I know you two weren’t close.”

  Something Eli and I shared, though Eli’s dad had bailed on Eli’s family when my friend was eight. Eli was still haunted by the loss, but I hadn’t seen my father since he slammed the door in my face after telling me get the hell out of the house.

  “Must be hard being in the place where you grew up,” Eli said.

  “Yep.” Actually, it was easier than I’d thought it would be. But then, I’d only cleaned out the first floor, saving the upstairs and all the memories it contained for last.

  “Here’s the thing,” Eli said. “Ginny’s starting a new life here, and yours is on the other side of the world. We’ve been friends for years. You’re a great guy. But I don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

  Even if I wanted to pursue this, Ginny had made it clear she wasn’t interested. It was a non-issue. No reason I couldn’t respect Eli’s request.

  “I’ll let it go.” I met Eli’s brown eyes, only a shade darker than Ginny’s. “Promise.”

  Shrugging away from my friend, I finished setting up the tent, which sagged worse than a sack of cow shit. I unzipped the flap and shoved my bedding inside, then climbed in after it.

  It was time to deflate my lungs into the air mattress.

  While trying to forget how perfectly Ginny fit in my arms.

  3

  Ginny

  While I was walking from the bathroom to our campsite, a fluffy toy poodle came yipping across the grass and ran right up to me. Grinning at the cute, fuzzy face, I stooped down to pat the dog, chuckling as it wiggled beneath my hand.

  “What a sweetie. And who are you?” I asked. The dog squirmed and jumped, trying to lick my face, unable to get enough of my touch. “I love your bows!” Pink ribbons were tied behind the dog’s ears.

  A blond man rushed up to us. “Thanks for grabbing her,” he said, panting. “She slipped her leash.”

  I lifted the dog and passed her to him. “No problem.”

  “Not the first time my baby’s gotten free,” he said with an easy smile. He scratched under the dog’s chin. “This girl was born to run, just like her mama. But I worry she’ll get into trouble.” He chuckled. “Also like her mama.”

  I smiled. “I understand.”

  “Hey,” he said, a bright gleam filling his eyes. “Don’t you remember me? We went out for a while back in high school.”

  He did look vaguely familiar.

  His face scrunched, creating little creases around his eyes. “Come on. We were both in the photography club, too.” Grabbing my forearm, he squeezed it. “Tom Prescott.”

  “Oh, yeah.” We’d gone o
ut in our senior year, but he started getting clingy, so I ended it. After graduation, he’d gone to tech school or the police academy. Something like that. With the flurry of buying my airline ticket for Europe, outfitting my backpack for a long stay, and convincing my mom I wouldn’t be murdered my first night in a hostel, I hadn’t paid much attention to what my classmates were doing.

  The dog whined and strained toward me.

  “Weird how she likes you.” Tom studied my face. “She doesn’t usually take to strangers. But you and my wife, Laura, could be twins.”

  “Maybe that’s it.”

  “Must be.” Tom turned and started back across the campground. “Thanks again.”

  “Nice seeing you,” I called after him.

  He waved but didn’t look back. “You, too.”

  I continued on to my campsite. When I arrived, tension hung in the air thicker than smoke over a greenwood campfire. Since the cause was not readily apparent, I decided it must be a man thing. And while some might balk at doing what was often called a woman thing, I got out the grill and started preparing dinner. Eli took his turn at the bathrooms while I dumped hickory chunks underneath the grate.

  “Want some help?” Cooper asked.

  “No thanks, I’ve got it.” This wasn’t the first time I’d made dinner. While covering the globe one photo at a time, I’d stayed in hostels, welcoming stranger’s homes, and even the occasional roadside shack. Being able to prepare a decent meal with what I could scrounge up locally had become both a pleasure and a necessity.

  Cooper went over to his cooler and lifted the lid.

  Stooped down, I tucked bits of newspaper among the briquettes, forcing myself to use my bad as well as my good arm. Broken by the kidnappers, I’d only gotten the cast off a month ago.

  Use it like you normally would, my doctor said. Don’t baby it.

  But it still ached. All the time. Like my spirit.

  Cooper straightened from where he’d been sorting through his cooler. “I brought dogs. You up for red skins?”