Falling In Hard: Book Four in The Bridgeport Lake Summer Series

by Danielle Arie

  Life unplugged.

  Bridgeport.

  I scanned the shimmering lake to my right. The ancient boulder in the center stared back at me like it knew all the secrets of summer.

  I thought it would be eerie, getting here two weeks before campers were set to come. It was beyond peaceful. Like, my own private oasis. Well, except for a few stray staffers walking around. But I was about to be one of them and that thought drowned out all the rest. Yeah. This was exactly what I needed to get my mind off of Nick. The surface of the familiar paved road glinted in the mid-morning sun. I headed toward the main office, tucked quietly inside a grove of trees, and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Can I help you?” A peppy redhead in a ponytail stood behind the front counter, twisting the pen cap in her fingers.

  “I’m here for staff orientation,” I said, offering a timid smile.

  Her eyes widened, her blue eyes practically sparking as she nodded. “Welcome aboard. What’s your name?”

  “Emery Hudson.”

  “I’m June. I’m here year-round.” She pulled a box of manila envelopes from beneath the counter, flipped through the stack, and stopped with a nod. “Here it is.” She took out an envelope and opened the flap, retrieving a key from inside. “You’re in room 210 in Blackthorn Hall. The women’s lodge.” She pulled out a camp-official lanyard, complete with the Bridgeport sequoia emblem with my name on it. “You’re supposed to wear this around campus at all times.” She handed it over.

  “Thanks.” I slipped it over my head, hedging a smile. I’d envisioned wearing one of these things a million times as a camper. My fingers buzzed with excitement as the reality of finally being on staff hit home. June set three sealed plastic bags on top of the counter and patted it. “Your staff tees and instructions for dress code are in your handbook.”

  “Got it.”

  She glanced at the clock turning quickly to 11:30. “Lunch is at twelve in the cafeteria. Pastor Gregg plans to meet with everyone there to kind of give us a feel for this summer’s vision.”

  “Awesome.” I took the keys.

  “I’m in room 205 if you need anything,” she added with another bright smile.

  “Thanks,” I said, toying with the hair-tie on my wrist as I dipped my head. “I’ll just head over then.”

  She winked. “See you at lunch.”

  “See you.”

  The sun warmed my scalp as I headed back out and traveled the paved roadway up the slight incline through the trees until it flattened out again. I passed the camp pool and the pond. A million birds sang in chorus in the trees overhead as I took a sharp left in front of the basketball courts. A group of guys were in the middle of some kind of scrimmage. If I was brave, I’d drop my bags and join them. I cleared my throat instead and hurried my pace as their game switched hoops and they headed in my direction.

  “Heads up!” someone shouted. I turned just in time to see the ball careening toward my head. It hit me with a solid ping and bounced back to the ground, the earth swaying beneath me for a second. I bent forward, pressing my palms to my knees to find equilibrium. A piercing sound rang through my ears.

  Nice.

  A set of footsteps came crunching over the gravel toward me. “Whoa. Sorry. You all right?” It was a deep voice. The rumbling kind. The kind of voice the bad boys had in high school.

  A voice like Nick’s.

  But there weren’t any bad boys here . . . part of staff requirements was a faith statement. You had to attend church. You had to have a letter from your pastor. Unless they were frauds, they wouldn’t be like Nick.

  Pressing my palm to my head helped the dizziness a little, but my cheeks were on fire. “Yep. Fine. Thanks.” I stood, trying not to wince, but it stung. My head, and my pride.

  “You sure? Here.” He stepped toward me, a head taller than me, and I was 5’10”. He motioned for my bag. “Let me help you with that. I’m Tucker by the way. Tucker Garcia. The guys just call me Tuck.”

  “Really. I’m fine. Thanks.” I cleared my throat as I readjusted my duffle and glanced up at him for a second. But for the love of everything right in the world, that was a mistake. He looked like one of those guys from the sports ads, all defined and sweaty, his muscle shirt hanging just slightly over the edge of his broad, tan shoulders. He had a chiseled jaw, deep brown eyes framed by long lashes, dark brows, and jet-black hair, cut like someone from the military.

  He probably thought I looked ridiculous in my worn-out PE shirt from sophomore year. I’d completed the whole slob-look with a pair of basketball shorts, and flip-flops to top it off. He had no idea I’d dressed for comfort for the three-hour drive up here. I planned on changing in my room before meeting anyone. Of course, I had to meet a gorgeous jock right off the bat.

  The corners of his dark eyes crinkled with his grin. “Nice try . . . Emery,” he said, squinting at my lanyard. “Hand it over.”

  A quick glance at the court told me the rest of the guys were already back to their scrimmage, not one of them seeming to miss their friend Tuck for a second.

  He lifted his brows, hand still extended.

  I sighed, handing it to him. “I take it you’re a little stubborn.”

  “Your observation skills are impeccable.” He slung the duffle over his shoulder and motioned toward the path. “Women’s lodge, right?”

  -Tucker-

  I don’t think I’d ever felt like a worse idiot. I didn’t see her coming until my no-look pass was on its way to Mal. Usually, he would’ve caught it, but he was too busy gawking at the new girl. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

  I walked her to her lodge in a dumb attempt at an apology, finding out it was her first summer on-staff. She came from a suburban town three hours away. Had three older brothers. No mention of a boyfriend. Not that I needed to know . . .

  We stopped outside the double doors and I handed her the bag.

  She gave me an awesome grin, ducking her head as she took the strap. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, don’t thank me when it was my pass that got loose.”

  She lifted a shoulder, squinting into the sunlight behind me, the sun doing all kinds of crazy things to her gorgeous blue eyes. “Wasn’t the first time I’ve been hit by a wild pass.”

  “No?” I scratched the back of my neck trying not to notice her blonde hair, or cute dimples, but dang, how could I not? “You play ball?”

  “A little,” she said, pointing toward the door. “Anyway, I should probably get in there. I need to go figure out my life for a second.”

  “Good luck with that.” I couldn’t help my grin. “What department are you working this summer?”

  “Maintenance.”

  What?

  A girl like her wouldn’t come to Bridgeport to trim lawns and plunge toilets. There was no way. When June told me I had a new recruit coming this week, I just assumed it was another guy. I should have double checked the application she sent me. But, still.

  My grin widened. “Are you playing around?”

  “Why? Are you a chauvinist or something?”

  “Hey, don’t go labeling me already.” I lifted my hands, spreading my fingers in surrender. “I just . . . you seem like . . . Uh . . . like a girly girl.”

  Her face soured.

  Smooth, Tuck.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I would’ve pegged you more for the coffee shop type. Lifeguarding maybe?” That spot on the back of my neck tightened. “Or, the Boathouse.”

  “Right.” She narrowed her gaze. “And what about you? You must be heading up Games, right?”

  “Games?” Was she serious? I ducked my head, cracking my knuckles before crossing my arms. “Why would you peg me for Games?”

  “You just seem like the kind of guy with an affinity for bullhorns.”

  “Affinity for bullhorns?”

  “You know, the kind who likes to hear his own voice blasting across camp.”

  “What?” I scoffed. Did I come
off like a jerk? “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know.” Something strange flashed through her eyes before she shook her head. “Never mind. Thanks for carrying my bag. I should get in there.” She turned to leave.

  “I’m the Maintenance lead,” I said, to her back. “I usually train new crew members. We’ll be working together a lot if you’re really on my team.”

  She paused and then nodded, continuing into the building, glancing over her shoulder once before she disappeared.

  Interesting.

  I walked back to the courts, waiting on the sidelines since the game was almost over. Mal headed toward me, wiggling his thick brows as he adjusted the sweatband at the base of his short afro. “Already moving in on the new girl?”

  “The ball hit her hard, Mal.” I rolled my eyes and walked with him toward our lodge. “And I’m not in it for a girl this summer. I came back to clear my head before fall hits.” Summer just started, and I hated thinking about the changes coming when it was over. It was all I could do to get through the last month to make it here. If there was a way to stay forever, I might give it a try.

  “Thought you were trying to get Lauren back this summer, Tuck. New Chick change your mind?”

  My chest tightened, the spark in Lauren’s caramel eyes coming back to mind. I thought we’d be able to keep up the communication after summer last year, but she went back to college, and I went back home. Everything kind of fizzled out, and then . . . “She has a new boyfriend.”

  “She what?” His eyes bulged. “I thought she broke up with you to focus on school.”

  I lifted a shoulder, nodding as I remembered her awesome breakup text. “Yup. Some Junior at USC. Apparently, his Mom’s a designer for some big fashion line, or something. I don’t know. The last picture she posted, they were in his ‘Vette.”

  “Oh. I get it. So, your broke butt wasn’t good enough for her.”

  “I don’t think that’s it, man.” I sighed. “I think she’s just . . . she’s insecure. She shut me out before giving me a chance to hear her out.”

  I wanted to be able to do nice things for Lauren. I wanted to take a trip to see her, and I’d saved enough to pay for the gas when my dad bummed out on my family last fall. I dropped out of Community and forgot my dream of getting into the Fire Academy so I could help my mom make rent. At least Bridgeport had room and board. She’d be able to keep food on the table for my brothers without having to worry about feeding me, too. Whatever I made, I could send to help cover bills. I clenched my fists, hating the fact that I had to leave them alone to be here at all.

  I tried not to hate my dad for making the choice he did, but how could I not? What kind of man ditches his family like that?

  “Well, forget Lauren, man,” Mal said, slapping my shoulder. “New Chick looks promising, and besides, girls, or no girls, I’m not about to let you fade out.”

  “Ha. Like you could stop me.”

  Mal headed toward the coffee shop and I went up to the guys’ lodge to change, ignoring the cute dimples that kept coming back to mind. Yeah, New Chick was hot. But I had to be there for my mom and my brothers this summer. New Chick would have no problem finding another guy.

  Grab your FREE Bonus Scene from Tucker and Emery’s story here.

  ~

  The Bridgeport Lake Summer Series is available for purchase here.

  ~

  To learn more about the Bridgeport Lake Summer Series, and to receive special offers and a VIP pass to Danielle Arie’s author newsletter and exclusive content, visit www.daniellearie.com

  Acknowledgments

  Once again, thank you Jesus, my Lord and Savior, for leading me through this life, giving me the strength I need to do the things You’ve called me to, and for giving me the inspiration to write these stories.

  Thank you to my husband, for your amazing support and belief in my writing, and especially for your help on the technicalities of the court scenes.

  Thank you to my parents who keep reading, and always ask when the next book is coming. You were the ones who taught me persistence, and I needed it this time around!

  Thank you to my editor, Joanne Lui. I’d be lost without your feedback and grammar skills, and I really appreciate your ability to squeeze me into your schedule the way you did for this one.

  And, thank YOU, my precious reader! I sincerely pray over each one of you before I begin writing my books, that by the time you’re finished reading them, the strands of faith woven throughout will inspire and encourage you in your own walk with the Lord.

  About the Author

  A long time fan of Clean Romance, Danielle Arie delivers her readers with gut-wrenching plots, heart-stopping romances, and satisfying finales. She's a big believer in all of the tropes.

  Addicted to YA pacing, but longing to write about characters after graduation, Danielle has come to the conclusion that a clean middle ground exists between Young Adult and Adult fiction, and aims to satisfy readers looking for books within the same zone. She has always enjoyed Christian Romance and is passionate about representing the gritty faith so many believers face in their college years.

  Danielle Arie is a follower of Christ, a smitten wife, the dedicated mother of four children, and an avid Office fan. If you don't find her writing, or with her nose in a book, she's likely in the middle of homeschooling, serving at her church, or somewhere in the Target Dollar section, coffee-in-hand.

  You can learn more about Danielle and the Bridgeport Lake series at www.daniellearie.com