She picked up her head and punched her pillow into a ball. “I didn’t have anything to drink for hours.”
“I noticed, but now you’re thinking about it and you aren’t thinking quietly.”
“Fine.” He heard her throw back her covers and then stumble toward the door.
“The flashlight’s on the floor to the right of the door.”
There were some fumbling noises, and the flashlight clicked on. She managed to shine it in his eyes twice while slipping her shoes on and heading out the door.
She was gone all of twenty seconds.
“Oh my God,” Keri yelped, slamming the door behind her. “There are eyes out there.”
Yup, sleep really was just a pipe dream tonight. “Furry woodland creatures, babe.”
“I think it was a raccoon.” It was hard not to laugh at her when she twisted the deadbolt.
“Look on the bright side—if the raccoon’s hanging out at our site, the skunks and bears are probably visiting somebody else.”
“How can you find this funny?”
“I’m not the one who’s gotta take a leak.”
Four D cells’ worth of light burned into his retinas when Keri turned the flashlight on him. “I can’t sleep until I’ve gone to the bathhouse, Kowalski. And if I don’t sleep, you don’t sleep.”
That much was obvious, so Joe swung his legs over the edge and stood. Unlike Keri, he wasn’t wearing pajamas that buttoned to his eyebrows and he laughed when the flashlight beam ran down over his black boxer briefs before whipping back to the door. He pulled on his sweatpants and shoved his bare feet into his sneakers. After a brief hesitation, he pulled a shirt over his head. While his bare chest was still buff enough to attract the females, up here they’d all be of the buzzing, biting variety.
“Let’s go,” he said, and he wasn’t surprised when she made him go out the door first. Without relinquishing the flashlight, of course.
There were a couple of low fires burning in the campground as they made their way to the bathhouse, but all was mostly quiet. The Kowalskis always arrived on a Monday so they could be all set up and get a few rides in before the place filled up. Joe reached over and took the flashlight out of Keri’s hand so he could turn it off.
“I can’t see,” she protested.
“Just be still a second and let your eyes adjust.”
“If I stand in one place too long the bugs will hang an all-you-can-eat buffet sign on me.”
He chuckled softly and started walking again. “You used to love being outside with me at night.”
“I used to strip on pool tables to Guns N’ Roses, too,” Keri said, “but times change. People change.”
Joe would have liked to deny he’d changed all that much, but it probably wouldn’t have been true. He’d been a gung-ho boy who’d made good on his dreams, only to end up jaded and still looking for...something. But even though Keri had changed a lot more than him, just being with her made him remember being young.
“It doesn’t get dark like this at home,” Keri whispered, and he was reminded how far her home was from his.
“Bright lights in the big city,” he muttered, thankful their arrival at the bathhouse derailed any further discussion about Los Angeles.
Keri was in there a few minutes, then emerged with a sheepish smile. “Thank you. I think I can sleep now.”
“Or we could go make out on the see-saw,” he said, just to make her laugh.
It worked. “Terry said she’d hide my bug spray until I duct tape my thighs together if I try making out with you.”
Keri stumbled on a rock and Joe instinctively took her hand to steady her. After she regained her balance, he just sort of kept it. “How did that happen to come up in conversation?”
She turned her head and he could see the gleam of her teeth when she smiled. “It was right after Lisa offered three days of lifeguard duty if you and I can have sex in her RV’s shower without knocking it off its levelers.”
Joe stopped, still holding her hand. “Why the hell was anybody talking about us having sex? Not that it’s a bad thing, but...why?”
“Mostly to annoy Terry.” But she looked away when she said it.
“Three days, huh?”
She tried to pull away, but he yanked her back, so she poked a finger at his chest instead. “Forget it, Kowalski. Sitting by the pool happens to be one of my more finely honed skills.”
“You’ve never been poolside with my nephews.”
So he wasn’t the only one in the campground mentally combining the words Joe, Keri and sex. Interesting.
Then he spotted his sister. Across the dark playground, Terry sat in one of the swings, drawing in the dirt with the toes of her sneakers.
“Hey, I’m going to talk to Terry for a sec. Take the flashlight and go on ahead.”
He could see the urge to protest cross Keri’s face, but then she looked across the playground, too. “Fine, but if I get mauled by a bear, you’re going to feel like an asshole in the morning.”
Joe waited until the flashlight beam—moving at a very fast clip—rounded the corner toward the cabins, then made his way to the swing set. He took the one next to her, careful to hold it still. Damn things made him carsick for some reason.
“I thought it would be easier away from the house,” Terry said without looking up from her dirt scribbles. “But I can’t sleep without his snoring and the quiet here only makes it worse.”
“Everybody will understand if you pack it up and head home, you know.”
She snorted. “And leave you all here to fend for yourselves?”
The old conversational high-wire—how to remind her they were all reasonably competent adults without minimizing the work she put into the family. “A temporary diet of hot dogs and marshmallows won’t kill anybody.”
When she didn’t even crack a smile, Joe started mentally combining the words Evan, head and baseball bat. His soon-to-be-ex brother-in-law was a good guy he’d always considered a friend, but Joe was in big brother mode—even if he was only nine minutes older.
“I thought he’d come running right back,” Terry said. “But he didn’t, and now... He said he was leaving because there had to be more—something better—and now he lives alone in a basic closet over a freakin’ Laundromat.”
“I know it seems like forever, but it’s only been three months. You guys can still work it out if you both want it.”
“Why should I try, when he could flush thirteen years down the toilet because I wouldn’t have a quickie on the kitchen table?”
That was a part of the story Joe hadn’t yet heard. “No offense, but I don’t think that fancy brass and glass set of yours would stand up to it.”
“That’s what I told him, and that I’m not serving up Corn Flakes on his ass prints. He was gone forty minutes later.”
“A guy doesn’t walk out on his family because he ain’t getting lucky on the kitchen table. You know there has to be more to it than that.”
Terry sighed and looked up at the stars. “He said now that our daughter’s older and out with her friends so much, he wanted to work on being Evan and Terry more instead of just Stephanie’s parents. He wanted more spontaneity, and he said I treat him more like a second child than a husband.”
Now Joe was crossing that conversational high-wire again, only this time he was blindfolded and slightly intoxicated. She did, after all, excel in family micromanagement and treated them all like children at times. This was the woman who asked him every single year if he’d packed enough underwear for the trip. But again, now was not the time to even hint at siding with Evan.
“It was probably some midlife meltdown,” he said, “and he just doesn’t have the balls to come crawling back.”
“Maybe.” She sniffed and shrugged her shoulders, and the subject was closed. “What are you d
oing with her, Joe?”
He didn’t need to ask who she meant. “I don’t know, sis. It started out as some weird mix of curiosity, revenge and nostalgia, but now... Sometimes she’s a total stranger and sometimes she’s the Keri I loved. And the chemistry’s still pretty damn potent.”
“She’s going to leave again, the second she has what she wants from you, and don’t forget it. She’s not any better than Lauren.”
That was a low blow, but not a surprise. Terry didn’t like feeling shitty alone. But dragging his ex-almost-fiancée into the pity party was just bitchy. “She’s nothing like Lauren. Keri’s not hiding what she wants from me or why she’s here. And I know she’ll be gone as soon as she has her interview. I’m just enjoying her company until then.”
Terry turned to make eye contact with him again. “I didn’t like the guy you became after she left the first time, and I still don’t think you should be around her.”
“For chrissake, Terry, you’re acting like a mother hen.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he could take them back. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever said them to her, but he couldn’t have chosen a worse time.
“Fine, Joe,” she said in a low voice. “Get your heart broken again. We can be a matched set.”
Then she crossed the playground to her camper without looking back.
* * *
Keri was, regrettably, already awake and mentally updating her resume with the covers over her head when Joe slapped her on the ass.
“Rise and shine, babe. Breakfast is at eight and by eight-fifteen Kevin’s licking the last crumbs off the plates.”
“I don’t care.” She had just passed the worst night of her life, and a pancake wasn’t going to help.
“I’m heading over. If you’re not there in a few minutes, Ma’s going to send the boys after you. Just FYI.”
When the cabin door opened and closed, Keri groaned and pulled the covers down. Camping sucked.
When a subdued Joe had returned to the cabin last night, he’d promptly fallen into a sound sleep. She, on the other hand, had tossed and turned on her foam slab—kept awake by a silence broken only by Joe’s unfamiliar snoring and what had sounded suspiciously like a rabid, ferocious raccoon trying to jimmy the deadbolt on the cabin door.
Agreeing to this asinine blackmail scheme had been a mistake.
Looking in the mirror was a bigger one. Even feeling as crappy as she did didn’t prepare her for how bad she looked.
And she had no sink. No shower. And no toilet.
Yes, camping really sucked, except for the opportunity to bury Joe’s body out in the wilderness where nobody would ever find it.
Keri threw everything she needed for a trip to the bathhouse into one of the plastic shopping bags Joe left lying around, then donned a hooded, zip-up sweatshirt. After pulling the hood as far over her really bad hair as possible, she opened the door.
Flash. “Say cheese!”
No. Strangling. Children. “You and I are going to have a little talk about privacy, Bobby.”
“Aunt Terry said to tell you I’m the parazappy.”
“That’s paparazzi, and I’m not them. I’m a journalist, so you can tell Aunt Terry to...” Just in the nick of time, her thought-to-speech filter woke up and smelled the coffee. “Never mind.”
“You were a lot prettier yesterday.”
“And you were a lot more charming.”
He just grinned his uncle’s grin at her. “Grammy said the food’s going fast and you don’t want to go riding on an empty stomach.”
“I don’t want to go riding at all,” she said, but Bobby was already running down the dirt road.
She managed to shower fast enough to snatch a pancake and the last two strips of bacon out from under Kevin’s nose. The caffeine flowed freely from the coffeemaker connected by extension cord to Lisa’s RV, thank God, and she was almost feeling human when the boys started dragging gear out of the totes in the screenhouse.
“I...have a headache,” Keri lied weakly.
Joe took her coffee mug away and tugged her to her feet. “You can ride with me today, to get a feel for it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“You didn’t go flatlander on me, did you girl?” Leo demanded in that booming voice of his. Terry snickered.
Keri may have spent half her life in California, but she was no damn flatlander and said so.
Terry tossed her a helmet, which she managed to catch without breaking a nail. “Prove it.”
Joe grinned and leaned into her personal space to whisper, “Just wrap yourself around me and hold on tight, babe. You’ll be fine.”
“Where’s the duct tape?” Terry yelled, and this time it was Lisa who snickered.
Keri shivered when Joe’s breath tickled her ear. Between the newly triggered hot flashes and the imminent threats of mud in her hair and duct taped thighs, she was anything but fine.
Copyright © 2010 by Shannon Stacey
About the Author
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Shannon Stacey lives with her husband and two sons in New England, where her two favorite activities are writing stories of happily-ever-after and driving her UTV through the mud. You can contact Shannon through her website, shannonstacey.com, where she maintains an almost daily blog, visit her on Twitter, Twitter.com/shannonstacey, and on Facebook, Facebook.com/shannonstacey.authorpage, or email her at [email protected].
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ISBN-13: 9781488079252
Flare Up
Copyright © 2019 by Shannon Stacey
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
Flare Up Page 28