Fearless

by Marlie May

  Cooper dumped the last of the grill coals into the fire pit, and the paper plates generated smoke signals. While he ducked inside his tent, I dragged our chairs closer to the pit.

  “I’m going to run to the camp store before it closes.” Eli tilted his head in that direction. “You want any snacks?”

  “I brought plenty of junk food.” I waved to my tote. “Popcorn, nuts.” Oreos, but I wasn’t mentioning my stash. If Eli caught a whiff of them, they’d be gone faster than beads of water in the sun.

  “Not Fritos,” he called over his shoulder, heading toward the lights twinkling in the distance. “Can’t live without my corn chip fix.”

  Chuckling, I pulled a bag of salt and vinegar chips from my tote. Maybe Cooper would find them more appealing than dill pickle.

  I turned and bumped into someone I assumed was Cooper.

  Tom grabbed my forearms tight enough I dropped the chips.

  “What are you doing? Let me go.” I wrenched backward and cradled my wrist, which ached from his tight grip.

  “I was looking for you.” His breath slid across my face, dank and sour. “Il mio amore.”

  While I didn’t speak Italian, I knew amore meant love. My heart raced, a loud boom as dread took hold.

  “You’ve got time to talk now, don’t you?” Tom’s eyes flashed around our empty campground. “No meals to slave over for that…other guy.”

  I edged sideways until I smacked my thigh on the picnic table hard enough, I flinched.

  He followed. “Where you going? Every time I want to do things with you, you act like you don’t even like me.” His eyes glinted darkly in the campground lights. “And that’s not what you said.”

  What was he talking about? My gaze fleeing his, I sought a way around him. I could run for my tent but didn’t dare. What if he followed me inside?

  He moved in so close, I could smell his sweat. “I saw you with him, L— Ginny.” His voice rose. “I sent you chocolates. I’ve been giving you keepsakes from all the times we’ve been together. And those flowers.”

  Was he referring to the dozen long-stemmed yellow roses he’d sent back in high school? Totally blindsided, I’d been tempted to throw them away. Sure, they’d been pretty, but we’d only gone to the movies and played mini golf once. We weren’t exactly a couple.

  And then he brought me chocolates, one of those huge, heart-shaped boxes you couldn’t finish before they dried out. I’d winced, because I’d actually been planning to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore.

  He’d never given me keepsakes, and I sure hadn’t asked him to.

  Head rearing back, the whites of his eyes flashed. “I won’t let you be with another guy this time, either. I keep what’s mine.”

  “Enough, Tom.” I clenched my fists at my sides. “I’m not yours.”

  “Everything okay here, Ginny?” Cooper came up behind me, so close, he warmed my back.

  I barely resisted leaning against his chest to soak in the comfort he offered. Relief weakened my knees. “No. I…Tom.”

  “It’s time for you to leave,” Cooper told the other man. His hand dropped on my shoulder and squeezed.

  Tom flashed a hot glance from me to Cooper, and his nostrils flared. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

  “I’m someone who watches out for Ginny.” The steel on Cooper’s voice suggested he’d gladly grind Tom into the dirt.

  Tom slid his gaze down my body, making me wish I wore more than a tank and shorts. “You don’t have any right to be with my girlfriend.”

  I sputtered. “I’m not your girlfriend. We broke up a long time ago.”

  “You will be again. And more.” Tom waved toward the sky. “The moon’s something else tonight, Laura. You always loved the moon. We could—”

  “Go.” Cooper started toward Tom, clenched hands rising.

  “Okay, man. It’s cool.” Tom flashed his palms while slinking backward. “I’m leaving.” His attention settled on me again, a lead weight around my ankle in deep water. “We’ll talk later, Laura, when this asshole isn’t around.”

  “I’m not Laura,” I shouted. “Leave me alone.”

  Tom glared, and darkness flooded his face. “You’re just a whore, aren’t you? Just like with that other guy—”

  Cooper started for Tom, but the man pivoted and ran across our campsite, only pausing to kick our trashcan over as he passed it.

  Tom had a temper that surpassed my old boyfriend, Zen’s. Come to think of it, Zen had acted possessive, too. As if by saying I was willing to be with him, I’d given him that right. He’d been creepy sometimes, too, especially when he chastised me in a fake voice—he had a knack for mimicry and could sound like anyone with barely any practice.

  What was it with guys thinking they could tell me what to do all the time?

  Tom shouted, “You’ll regret not taking me back.” He continued across the green and disappeared into the night.

  “Well.” I lifted a shaky hand to my hair, shoving a few strands behind my ear. “I’m glad that’s over.”

  “For now.”

  Said like he thought we hadn’t seen the last of Tom yet. My heavy sigh rang out between us because he was probably right.

  “Who the hell is that guy, anyway?” Cords stood out on Cooper’s neck, and his narrowed gaze remained fixed in the direction where Tom had entered the woods.

  “Someone I went out with a few times in high school. We broke up.” I tugged on my shirt and worried the hem. “He creeped me out. Started getting possessive. I told him I didn’t want to see him again, and I thought that was it because he let it go.”

  “It’s weird that he’s acting like this now.”

  “What’s even weirder is that he called me Laura.” A knot of fear in my throat made it difficult to swallow. “I ran into him here at the campground yesterday and then again this morning when I went to the showers. He said he was married to someone named Laura but then he implied she was dead. Anyway.” I lifted my chin. “I appreciate you backing me up.”

  “Anytime.”

  A frown pulled down my lips. “Do you think it was him in the woods today?”

  Cooper scratched the back of his neck. “Hard to say.” Rumbles rose in his chest. “I’ll talk to Eli. Tell him he needs to keep an eye out for that creep.”

  “I hate being a burden, especially to my brother.”

  “You know he’d jump off a cliff for you.”

  I’d do the same for Eli.

  But I had no intention of spending the rest of my weekend slinking around. Life was too short not to make each moment fun. I reached into the rack of dried dishes, pulled out my trusty cast iron frying pan, and brandished it. “Maybe if I smack him with this, he’ll get the message.”

  Cooper chuckled and the indigo faded from his eyes, turning them blue-gray again. “You think?”

  “Let’s hope I don’t need to find out.”

  He grunted. “Won’t as long as I’m around.”

  Which we both knew was only for a few more days.

  Eli returned with two bags of chips, throwing one to Cooper, who caught it. Cooper filled him in on what happened.

  My brother shot a concerned look my way and fisted his hand so tight, his chip bag crackled. “Ginny, I—”

  “Cooper handled it.”

  “Still,” he said. Tossing the chips onto the picnic table, he came over and gave me a quick hug. “I’ll have a word with Tom tomorrow.”

  Stepping back, I wrapped my arms around my waist, holding in my shivers. “I appreciate it.”

  I ducked inside my tent for a sweatshirt. While rifling through my bag, I found another painted tile tucked between two t-shirts. My flashlight highlighted the scene: Port Clyde Lighthouse at dusk. When I tilted it, the tile slipped from my hand and landed on the floor with a soft thud. A black swirl, vaguely like a letter, was revealed on the back. Not Eli’s name, like I’d expected, but maybe he preferred to remain anonymous and this was his mark.

  “Yo
u want a beer?” Cooper was walking toward the cooler when I stepped back outside.

  “Thanks.” I popped it open and toasted my brother. “And thank you, Eli.” Meaning the painting. I wasn’t sure Cooper knew about my brother’s artwork, so I’d keep that part quiet for now. “Remember that time we went to Port Clyde?”

  Eli smiled. “That spring a couple years ago, when I was home on leave. It was an awesome day, wasn’t it?”

  Bright sunshine. Balmy weather. And the whisper of waves gliding along the shore. We’d sat and eaten our picnic lunch on large slabs of granite.

  “We’ll have to do it again sometime,” I said.

  “Definitely.”

  I took a long swallow of my drink and sat in one of the folding chairs.

  The guys joined me and went caveman with the fire pit.

  Scowling, Eli crouched and blew on scraps of newspaper. He’d mounded about half our woodpile on top of it. Leaning back on his heels, he grumbled, “Needs kerosene.”

  “C-4 works better,” Cooper said from the chair beside me.

  Really. Leave it to a military guy to come up with something like that. I widened my eyes. “You didn’t bring explosives to a campground, did you?”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Only fireworks. You’re up for fireworks tonight, right?”

  From the sparks shooting through my belly, there was no debating which kind of fireworks I preferred.

  Eli finally got the fire going—without C-4, thankfully—while the campground quieted around us.

  I dug through the tote outside my tent, locating the ingredients for S’mores. While Eli toasted the marshmallow and made the usual chocolate and graham cracker sandwich, Cooper and I ate our marshmallows plain.

  “Toasting marshmallows is a true art form.” I rotated my stick until the marshmallow turned burnished bronze. Lifting it, I slid the crusty, steaming outside off the gooey innards and popped it into my mouth. Eyes closed, I moaned while I chewed. Absolute bliss.

  My stick wiggled, and I opened my eyes to stare down at it. Somehow, I’d lost my marshmallow guts. Leaning forward, I peered into the coals, wondering if it had plopped off. No smoking white lump to be found.

  “Problems?” Cooper licked a line of whiteness off his upper lip.

  Narrowing my gaze on him, I grabbed another marshmallow from the bag. “That fox is back in my midst. The beast keeps making off with my goods.”

  Cooper pressed his broad shoulders against his chair. “You accusing me of theft?”

  I rolled my eyes and focused on my marshmallow. Cooper kept my emotions in a perpetual tailspin. I had to hold them in check, or I’d crash.

  “Here you go.” Cooper tilted his stick my way. Crusty, golden yum steamed within my reach. I slid off the outside and popped it into my mouth, chewing while he ate the rest.

  He reached for the bag. “Another?”

  “If I eat any more, I’ll slip into a coma.” I poked the fire with my stick. Flames licked along the tip, forcing me to sacrifice it to the campfire gods.

  Across from us, Eli stared into the flames. He’d spent the last half hour nursing his beer and fiddling with the pockets on his shorts. Eventually, he stood and tossed his empty into the recycle bin. “I’m off to bed. The alarm goes off too early. Wish I didn’t have to work, though. You’re…” His gaze cut to me. “You don’t mind that I’ll be gone after midnight, do you?”

  He meant, did I mind being alone while I slept?

  I waved. “Go. I’ll be fine.” Probably. I cut my gaze to Cooper who studied us both with a frown on his face. “Cooper’s here with me, right?”

  His concerned look faded, although his eyes remained flinty. “Sure am.”

  “Okay, then,” Eli said. “I’ll be back by four-thirty-ish tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

  I nodded.

  Cooper tapped his sneaker on the fire surround, and I could feel the heat of his gaze, though I didn’t look his way. I kept my face neutral, because, jeez, I hated letting him think I was scared all the time.

  “You up for a swim?” he finally asked.

  I shot him a quick glance. “It’s dark out.”

  He chuckled. “You turn into a coach at midnight?”

  “The story includes a pumpkin, and it’s not even close to midnight.”

  He checked his phone. “Okay, ten.”

  “I should go to bed. Long day tomorrow.” I needed to go into town for provisions, and I planned to test my resolve by swimming to the furthest dock in the lake alone.

  “You can sleep in tomorrow.”

  It was time to move forward, right? “Okay, you’re on.”

  10

  Cooper

  After changing, I walked with Ginny to the lake. At least Tom wasn’t lurking around. If he moved on her again, I’d be all over him.

  “Kinda chilly for a swim, isn’t it?” she asked when we stopped by the water to stare.

  A ton of stars filled the sky, and the nearly-full moon shot a wavering white line across the lake. We weren’t alone. Swimmers were jumping off one of the floats farther out. But other than that, darkness had shut down the world.

  “This is the best time to swim,” I said. “When the air’s cold, the water feels warm.”

  Ginny sighed. “If you say so.” She lifted her sundress over her head and tossed it onto the towel she’d laid on the bank.

  Moonlight outlined her body, and I had to remind myself she wore an ordinary swimsuit. I shouldn’t be turned on just because small scraps of cloth highlighted inches of skin I ached to stroke with my fingertips.

  Remember your promise.

  Fuck the promise, my body said, stirring immediately.

  Ginny had changed from the sweet but serious girl I remembered back in high school. The funny side I’d only caught on the sly had grown stronger, as if she’d settled into her skin and let everything inside her shine through. And while her shape might be more mature than I remembered, she’d maintained those curves that had fueled every damn one of my teenage fantasies.

  She strode forward, splashing into the lake. Water swirled around her calves and kissed her knees and thighs. That sweet juncture between them.

  So much for not turning rock solid. Good thing my body was hidden by the dark and the enveloping water as I followed.

  Lifting her arms, she pushed off her feet and dove into the water. She emerged with hair sleeker than a mermaid.

  I did the same, keeping pace with her slow crawl as she swam away from shore.

  We stopped and treaded water with our legs.

  Tipping backward, I floated, and she linked her hand with mine. Friendly, most likely.

  “You’re right,” she said. “This feels great.”

  It had cooled me down, making it easier to behave.

  We turned and swam to an empty float. I waved for her to climb the ladder ahead of me, but was unable to drag my eyes away from her tempting ass.

  I was so screwed.

  We dropped onto our backs on the wooden boards, staring up at the sky.

  “Tell me about your travels around the world over the past ten years,” I said, not only to distract myself, but because I wanted to know everything about her.

  Talking wouldn’t break my promise.

  “Wherever you go, there are new people. New customs. New food. You’ve traveled with the military, so you know what it’s like.”

  “Not the way you have.” It wasn’t wise for military personnel to venture far from the base. And combat situations didn’t lend themselves to exploring new locations. “I want to hear what you’ve been up to. You graduated two years after us and went to Europe, then Central America. Eli told me that.” I’d kept asking about her until I heard she was living with a guy. Funny, I hadn’t realized until now that I proposed to Annie after receiving the news. Coughing, I pushed aside that unwelcome insight. “Eli said you backpacked around for a while before heading somewhere else.”

  “Yes, Europe first. Then I met up with friends and we
traveled from California to Panama. Costa Rica is gorgeous. So’s Nicaragua.”

  “Taking pictures along the way.”

  She turned and propped the side of her head up on her palm. Moonlight lit up her face, outlining her high cheekbones and dimpled chin. “You know I’m a photographer.”

  “You’re famous.”

  She snorted and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not so sure about that, but I’ve done well over the past few years.”

  “I bought all your books.”

  Her laughter rang out across the water. “I wondered who my solitary fan was.”

  “Your photos are awesome.”

  “Wow.” Her pause made me wonder if I’d stolen her words. Her photos sure had stolen mine.

  “I bought multiple copies of each book,” I said. “Gave them to all my friends as gifts.”

  “Now you’re telling me a tall one.”

  “It’s true. I kept bragging about you. I know her. Check out this picture. I’d open to the one where the mother held her newborn child. Or the one of the man running from the bulls. His face, cratered with determination …Your pictures blew me away.”

  She blinked. “Thank you. You’re making me feel, I don’t know, happy, I guess. I didn’t think anyone outside my family cared about the moments I’ve captured.”

  “Eli said you’ve sold to magazines. Life. Vanity Fair. National Geographic.”

  “Seems like Eli shared quite a bit of my life with you.”

  Did I read curiosity or irritation in her voice? In the dark, I couldn’t tell. “Just some.” Whatever information I could squeeze out of Eli without letting on I had more than a casual interest.

  One corner of her mouth rose, centering my attention in that area. “Just some?”

  “Enough.” Never enough, actually.

  Full-on teasing lifted her voice. “Then you’re saying you don’t need to hear more?”

  Right now, I wanted to hear any secret she was willing to tell me.

  “How about you?” she asked. “Eli told me you’ve been to the Middle East with the Seabees.”