Love, All (Camp Firefly Falls Book 19)

by Tamsen Parker

  Nate Carter is living the good life. Taking a break from his engineering day job to be Camp Firefly Falls’ resident tennis instructor, he’s got nothing on his plate besides acting as best man for his sister and his BFF’s wedding, and avoiding a summer-ending injury like the one that side-lined him last year.

  An unfortunate incident involving salad dressing and his tuxedo finds Nate face-to-face with struggling single-mom Ruby Hudson who’s moonlighting as a cater waiter. After their calamitous meeting, they have a far more satisfying end to their evening in the back of Ruby’s ancient station wagon.

  Nate is keen for a repeat or even a relationship, but Ruby doesn’t have time for the handsome tennis player no matter how sexy his forearms are. But after convincing her to give him a shot, Nate thinks their relationship might be able to go the distance.

  The end of the season is fast approaching and Nate is ready to put his heart on the line, but his assurances and their chemistry may not be enough for Ruby to upend her life. After all, in tennis love means nothing.

  Dedication

  For all the single moms. You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

  Chapter One

  It was pretty impressive what you could get done if you knew the right people. And also if you had Nate’s mother, Georgina Carter, in your corner, because she would get her way come hell or high water.

  That high-water thing had nearly been tested this weekend because it had been raining almost nonstop during April, and Lake Waawaatesi was so high it had almost flooded out the docks and some of the beaches. The waterline was higher than it had ever been, and Camp Firefly Falls’ directors, Heather and Michael Tully, had had to do some fancy maneuvers with the canoes and other watercraft to make sure they didn’t float away in the swollen lake.

  Although, if it had come down to it, Nate’s mother would’ve changed the theme to a Venetian carnival, and everyone would’ve floated around in canoes made up to look like gondolas while they sipped on Prosecco. It would’ve been fine even if the banks of the Waawaatesi had overflowed and they were stuck in a flood. Actually, it was kind of too bad they wouldn’t get to see that. The fairytale magic Georgina would have been able to pull off would no doubt have been quite the spectacle and a night worthy of the Carter family books. As it was, it was her beloved daughter’s wedding, so it was still going to have a special place in family lore.

  Nate tugged at the cuffs of his tux and checked his watch again. They were due to start the ceremony any minute, which meant he’d best be ready for his job. His very important job. Willa was up at the boathouse and would make her way down to the makeshift altar that was as close to the water as they’d dared to get, but he was standing by at the end of the aisle, waiting for Van to show up. And just as he was about to dig his phone out of his pocket to text her, there she was.

  He didn’t usually think a whole lot about how Van looked because she was just…Van. She was Van and he was Nate, and it didn’t matter what they were wearing because they were just going to play video games and watch movies and break out her soldering iron to fuck some shit up. But he had to admit, she looked awesome today.

  Custom-tailored blue velvet suit with a black bow tie and snowy white dress shirt, the shiniest black shoes he’d ever seen, and a fresh undercut that showed off the volume of her hair at the top. She’d made her dark eyes the center of attention by lining them with some sparkly blue…whatever it was. She was his best friend, and she looked phenomenal. She also looked panicked, but that was probably because of all the people here and not because she had any doubts about getting married to Willa.

  Which was confirmed as Van hustled up to him. “Do I look okay? Is everyone here? Everything’s on time, right? Who are these people? Did your mother have to invite the entire state of Connecticut?”

  With most people, he’d take them by the shoulders, shake them a bit, and send them on their way. But with Van, he knew she’d only be soothed with answers. “You look amazing. You’ll be lucky if you can get through the ceremony before Willa drags you off to the nearest cabin, or hell, behind a large tree. Everyone who needs to be here is here, and if anyone else is late, the back two rows are open for them. Everything is running according to schedule because you’ve got General Georgina calling the shots. All these people are people who know and love you and Willa. And it’s not the entire state of Connecticut—my mom traded in some people she doesn’t like to get some relatives from Grosse Point and Palm Beach. It’s how she is. If Georgina wants something to be a big fucking deal, you know it’s going to be a big fucking deal.”

  And it was. The entire camp was filled to the brim, including some people who’d decided to take up the Tullys on their offer to have tents in a makeshift camping area. Any and all hotel or B&B rooms in the surrounding towns were sold out for the weekend. Nate was lucky he was working at the camp this summer—hopefully for the whole summer this time and not like his camp-us interruptus broken-leg fail of last year—so he had a cabin and hadn’t had to scrounge for a bed. Yep, Willa and Van’s wedding was the event of the season.

  Van scowled at him. “You’re no fucking help. You know that, right, Nathandolia Annoyingsford Carter?”

  “You say that now, but you’ll be grateful when I’m sharing my flask and playing Fire and Featherstone with you on our phones at Carter family gatherings. If you and Willa aren’t making googly eyes at each other the whole time, anyway.”

  His comment was met with a glare, but Van also failed to keep a smile from curling up the side of her mouth and making her cheeks pink.

  Nate was happy for them. He was. His baby sister was delighted, and his best friend was now going to be legally obligated to tolerate him for the rest of their lives. As much as Van had been a part of the Carter family while they’d been kids, maybe having a ring on her finger that made it official would let her loosen up a little. Or not. It was hard for Van to feel comfortable anywhere.

  But after his pep talk, she gave a determined nod and set her jaw. She was ready.

  “Shall we get this show on the road?”

  Yep, this was a piece of performance art for Van and not her idea of a good time, but once it was over and she and Willa could just be married instead of getting married? She’d be much happier.

  Van nodded again, and it made the corner of Nate’s mouth curl up. Go time, then.

  He offered Van his arm, and she took it, slipping her hand through his elbow and resting it on his forearm, and then they were off, walking down the aisle to where his two favorite people on earth were about to make their commitment to each other very official.

  Walking between the lines of paper-bag luminaries, Nate had to admit this wasn’t how he’d pictured his first trip down an aisle. He was happy to be here—hell, he was glad in a conflicted way that Van’s parents had passed on coming up for their daughter’s freaking wedding because this way he could walk her down the aisle instead of her seemingly indifferent father. As happy as he was, though, it did bring into rather stark relief precisely how single he was.

  He could’ve had a plus one, but there was no one he’d wanted to bring. Going to a wedding with someone—especially a family wedding—tended to give women ideas, and he didn’t want to be giving anyone any ideas. Not his date and not his family, who would no doubt read something into his choice of date.

  It’s not as though he was anywhere near bachelor-for-life status; he was only thirty-one. But truth be told, he’d thought he would’ve found someone by now. Even started a family. His parents had settled young, and Willa was clearly following in their footsteps, but he was…not.

  He liked women, had wondered why he wasn’t more interested in the ones he’d go
ne on dates with. But as smart, as funny, as pretty, as successful as they’d been, there hadn’t been much of a spark. He didn’t want to be with someone who was a lukewarm cup of tea. He wanted someone who made his blood run hot, who electrified him. And he wanted someone who felt the same way about him.

  The way Van and Willa felt about each other.

  Once they’d reached the Justice of the Peace, Nate gave Van a big bear hug, which she tolerated. She was so indulgent with the lot of them. And while he’d never wish for her to be uncomfortable and would stop (and make his parents knock it off too) if she asked it of him, it was Van’s idea of a compromise: You take me as I am, and I let you engage in this bizarre ritual of…touching.

  “You and Wills are going to be so happy together. You both are marrying the best woman I know. I love you guys.”

  “Don’t you dare make me cry, jackass.”

  There was a soft punch to his kidneys, so he let Van go. Didn’t want her to change her mind about Willa because of the Carter baggage that was part and parcel of marrying into their close-knit family. He stood to her side and looked out at the sea of people, some of whom—including his mother—were already dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. It was beautiful, this slice of time and experience that was fantasy made real. Even the fireflies in the woods were cooperating, blinking in the darkening evening skies.

  All that became a distant second when he saw Willa.

  Walking down from the boathouse, she was in a white dress with her hair put up in one of those fancy ways that seemed to defy physics, and she carried a bouquet as white as her dress. She was accompanied by their dad, who was dabbing at his own eyes with his pocket square, which would no doubt make their mother roll her eyes, but at least it would be fondly. His parents were gag-inducingly happy after all this time together.

  And as much as it made him feel inadequate because of his own failures at love, he sincerely wished the same for his baby sister and his best friend. With all his big, goofy heart.

  He waved at Willa, who looked like a legit princess, and she waved back, her face aglow with so much love and devotion that she put those fireflies to shame. And despite knowing he risked his mother’s wrath, he had to use his own pocket square to swipe at the moisture gathering at the corners of his own eyes. Wasn’t it too freaking early for allergy season?

  ***

  Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding.

  That was the drumbeat going through Ruby’s head as she loaded her tray with another round of bite-sized tacos and tequila shooters in tiny Patrón bottles. Rich people were insane. They’d pay for legions of doll tacos when they could have the full-sized things for cheaper. Hell, did they realize how many people they could feed at Boone’s with just the budget for the appetizers?

  But no. These people had spent more on itsy-bitsy cheeseburger sliders served with a thimble full of matchstick fries, bite-sized towers of chicken and waffles, the smallest grilled cheeses she’d ever seen with their own miniature cups of tomato soup, and caprese cones—whatever the fuck those were—than she’d see in months.

  If she weren’t making such good bank being a cater-waiter for this over-the-top party, she’d flip some tables, sending the sushi bar flying before continuing her rampage by upending the ceviche station. What the hell ever happened to chicken or beef?

  These people definitely had more money than sense. The one thing that warmed her heart was that the brides didn’t seem to give a shit about all the surrounding pomp and circumstance and appeared completely content to sit at their sweetheart table and make googly eyes at each other when they weren’t being accosted by their guests with congratulations.

  And brides. Those two women were cute as pie, and the blonde’s parents were clearly thrilled that their baby girl was happy. That was genuinely nice. Ruby didn’t know what the story with the dark-haired butch bride’s family was because her parents didn’t seem to be there, but the blonde’s family seemed enthusiastic and affectionate enough to make up for any asshattery on the other side of the aisle.

  So in addition to not wanting to ruin the brides’ reception, what was keeping her from starting an anti-bourgeois riot was money. As in, she needed some. More. Always. But this was above and beyond the usual bills that she could swing as long as she was vigilant about their expenses. This was a major expense and she hadn’t had enough time to prepare and she could’ve said no, but dammit, she hadn’t wanted to. So, perhaps stupidly, she hadn’t. Not this time.

  Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding.

  Anya, the woman who was plating the passed hors d’oeuvres, flashed her a grim smile. “You’re all set, girl. Back out to the hordes you go.”

  Ruby sighed and steeled herself, plastering the polite smile back on her face and preparing to recite her spiel about the food she was toting around on this damnably heavy tray. “Shrimp taco with mango salsa?”

  “You got it.”

  Yes, they were gluten-free; yes, there was dairy in the crema drizzle; no, she didn’t think they were very spicy.

  It would be okay. Only…seven hours left to go because she’d signed up to be on the clean-up crew as well. After a full day working at Landry’s, what had she been thinking?

  But as she walked out the makeshift door of the catering tent to the lawn where a few hundred of the brides’ family members and closest friends were mingling amidst high tables and lawn games, she remembered precisely what she’d been thinking and couldn’t be all that sorry about it. Even though her feet fucking hurt and her arms were aching and her face was going to be frozen in this rictus of politeness.

  It was the same thing she’d thought when she’d signed up for any extra shifts at Landry’s, same thing she’d thought when she’d passed up the new pair of sneakers she needed because the soles of hers were wearing out, same thing she’d thought when she’d ridden her bike to work again yesterday even though it had been an unseasonably brisk forty-two degrees because she was trying to make it another week before having to fill up her piece-of-shit car’s gas tank again.

  Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding. Chloe loves riding.

  Chapter Two

  Seriously, Mom? Seriously?

  Georgina Carter had opinions, and she wasn’t shy about sharing them. Nate thought he’d become inured to her meddling, but this was…it was ridiculous is what it was. And he wouldn’t trouble Van or Willa by complaining about it or insinuating they’d had anything to do with this, because this particular stunt had his mother written all over it.

  Seating him with seven single, age-appropriate women? She’d probably clapped her manicured hands with delight as she’d placed the little flags on her seating chart that had resembled a military strategist’s battle plan.

  Eh. It could’ve been worse. At the moment, he couldn’t quite think of how exactly, but surely given more time, his mother could’ve come up with something even more inappropriate and mortifying. As things were, he could be charming and easy for a few hours. That, he was good at. Nate the Chill was kind of his brand. It was why he got sent out to talk to potential buyers and partners. He’d do the glad-handing and the fancy engineering tech-speak that seemed to impress people and then pass off his mark to a salesperson or the lawyers to process the paperwork and the money.

  And who knew? Maybe his mom had picked a good one. Certainly to a woman, everyone seated at table seventeen ought to be an appealing prospect. They ranged from pleasant-to-look-at to stop-a-guy-in-the-street stunning, they were all employed at interesting jobs, they were all genuinely happy for Van and Willa. And yet…

  “I work for Unicorn Robotics. I help design stuff like those fridges you can get to come to you with a touch of a button. We do a lot of military contracting under the name United Maneuvers too, but the powers-that-be know I have kind of a big mouth, so they put me in the domestics division instead.”

  His standard self-deprecating line garnered a tinkly laugh from the redhead with the
fantastic cleavage to his right, even as it poked at a tender spot inside him. He could joke about it, but he knew one of the reasons he hadn’t been assigned or moved over to UM was that people thought he was kind of a lightweight. He did his work well, but no one seemed to think of him for those big, earth-shattering projects.

  This wasn’t the time to get gloomy about his career pathing. If for no other reason than he didn’t want his mom complaining he hadn’t given these women a real shot or shown them a good time, he’d be chatty and amiable. And honestly, the redhead was pleasant, fun to talk to. He’d established already that she was a speech pathologist at one of the major hospitals in Boston. Good work, important work, and she seemed nice enough.

  “Those mobile household appliances could be really useful for some of my patients. I know people mostly think of them as curiosities or time-savers, but for people who are disabled? They offer a level of autonomy and cost savings, too.”

  “Exactly!” And empathetic to boot. He was tired of people mocking him for building toys for rich people. Absolutely they sold a lot of their products to people who were loaded and enjoyed the novelty of their products, but that bankrolled products that were in fact really useful for people whose mobility was impaired or who might have a hard time living on their own for other reasons.

  He liked…Cecily, according to the name on her table card. Would gladly chat with her for a while, and maybe they’d hang out back in Boston. But it’d be at a sports bar, probably with a group of friends because they were both Red Sox fans, and not over some candlelit romantic dinner because she was going to turn out to be his soulmate. Nice try, Mom.

  Nate took another sip of his cocktail—some signature thing Georgina had commissioned from the bartenders called a Starry Night, made with blue Curaçao and topped with a sparkly sugar rim—and absorbed the suggestions Cecily was making about other products his company could consider making. Maybe he could have her talk to some of the senior staff because she had some great ideas. He’d email Jeremy tomorrow, after he’d woken up—hopefully without a massive hangover, but he wouldn’t bet on it. He’d set out some Tylenol and a bottle of water by his bed already, so he wouldn’t have to remember to when he stumbled back to his cabin after the festivities had finally petered out.