by Claire Adams
Penn smirked. "How about we start with a little dandelion wine?"
"But I hear the music now." It was my turn to pull him along the path.
We veered to the right, away from the spa, and found Alice's campground by a side path. The bonfire was already reaching up to the sky and all the campers were either playing an instrument or dancing. The celebration was bright, loud, and easy to get lost in. The psychic's words were forgotten and our role as the happy couple came easily. I tugged Penn's arms around my waist and lured him closer to the dancing.
Xavier saved him and handed us each a cup of sweet wine. "You're going to like this, so I suggest right now you decide to camp overnight."
"Corsica camp?" Penn snorted.
I punched him on the shoulder. "I told you I grew up hunting, camping, and fishing."
"Then you won't mind hearing my idea for your wedding," Alice interrupted. "I can imagine you standing under a sea-swept cypress tree. The ocean's your backdrop, the waves are part of your vows."
"She's already had a little wine," Xavier interjected.
Alice swatted his hand from her arm. "It will be beautiful. Then, you'll leave the shore and hike into the oak groves. We'll make a campsite far up above the fog line, just for you two."
"And our honeymoon will be all hiking and camping," Penn said.
"Dream on," I snorted.
Alice frowned. "Don't you want to talk wedding plans? Isn't it exciting?"
It was, but it was also too close to the useless daydreaming my mother had taught me as a child. Penn and I were not engaged and we would never be married. So, it hurt to imagine how wonderful it would be.
I felt a stab of guilt. We were feeding Alice a pleasant fairytale and all of a sudden, it didn't feel fair. "It just doesn't feel real," I said.
I was on the verge of telling her, but Alice held up her hands. "I know. I understand."
I worried that she really did. Did Penn's mother know we were putting a good show to make her happy?
Before I could pull Penn aside and share my worry, he whirled me into a wild dance around the bonfire. The rest of the evening melted into the long streaks of a slow sunset. The solstice was full of warmth and when Penn finally led me to a quiet place on the hill, I felt a sudden chill.
He wrapped an arm around me, but I shrugged it off. "I feel like walking," I said.
Penn's lips curved. "Good because there's somewhere I'd like to show you."
He pointed high up the hill, but I was glad for the quiet hike. I carried the pack that Penn had tossed me and concentrated on making the weight seem inconsequential. Still, I was relieved when Penn stopped at an old oak and pointed out the quiet grove.
I dropped my pack and looked up. "The stars are so much brighter," I sighed.
"We're above the fog line." Penn cleared a place and laid out two sleeping bags. "Think you can handle sleeping under the stars?"
I shivered at how close it was to the wedding night Alice envisioned. "We won't be able to see them if we make a fire."
"Then we'll just have to keep each other warm," Penn suggested. He relented when I rolled my eyes. "I also brought a tent if that would make you more comfortable. Want me to start a fire?"
I surprised us both by laying down on one of the sleeping bags. "We won't be able to see the stars if you start a fire."
"So you like it?" His voice hitched. "This has always been my favorite campsite. I can't tell you how many nights I’ve spent here with just a sleeping bag."
I stretched out and smiled. "I'd rather see the stars than the inside of a tent."
Penn frowned. "Corsica, it's just us. You don't have to pretend."
I raked two hands through my hair. "God, you really do think I'm shallow, don't you? It can't possibly be true that I like to camp and that I too want to sleep outside under the night sky."
He squatted down beside me. "I just think I was unfair to mix you up in all this, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"Then lay down. You're making me nervous."
Penn stretched out next to me and I instantly felt the heat of his body. "I'm sorry about your mother," he said.
"Why me?" I asked, sitting up. "Why did you invite me home with you? Why did you ask me to come along?"
Now it was his turn to study the constellations above us. "I don't know. I appreciated your empathy and now I know why."
"That's not why you invited me home with you."
Penn smiled. "I did that because you're sexy in a stuck-up sort of way." He caught my hand before I could swat him.
"You're a challenge. I can't figure you out. But I still feel like I know you. Not that perfect and poised image you work so hard on, but the real you."
"Penn?" I asked, leaning over him. "Are you pretending?"
"No." He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger and tugged. "Are you?"
"I'm not pretending." I gave in to the gravitational pull of him.
Penn lifted up to meet my lips, his hand tangling deeper into my hair. His other hand swept up the side of my hip and curved along the small of my back. I pressed my body down against his hard contours and felt that hand slip further down. He gripped the back of my thigh and drew me over him.
I heard his breathing hitch over my own ragged moan when our bodies brushed at the most sensitive spot. "No more pretending," I whispered against his lips.
Penn sat up, encircling me in his arms, his kiss now devouring me as his hands tugged at my sundress. I rode the rising waves of pleasure, straddling his lap as my dress slipped up and over my head. His shirt followed and it still wasn't enough.
"I can't pretend," Penn moaned. "I want you too much."
I pried my hands off the hard flex of his shoulders and unclipped my bra. The heat of our bare skin brushing together was almost more than I could bear. I rubbed and pressed against him, wanting more.
"Corsica, please," Penn breathed against my bare neck.
I answered by falling back onto the sleeping bags and reaching my arms up to him. He covered me, muscles quivering, and when he pressed deep inside, I saw more stars than were in the sky.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Penn - 14
The whole night flashed through my mind again as I woke up. No wonder I thought it was a dream. But Corsica's smooth skin was still pressed against mine, her soft hair spilling over my shoulder. We were tucked in together, the two sleeping bags zippered together into one. I could feel the sunlight starting to filter through the oak branches, but I didn't want to believe it.
Why did last night have to be the shortest night of the year? I asked myself.
The summer solstice had been a blur of feasting and fire, dancing and celebrating. The only things I could really focus on were the memories of Corsica's delicious lips and her body opening beneath me.
I groaned and pried open one eye. It hadn't been a dream. She was still tucked against me, her face buried against my neck.
I stopped breathing. I wanted to curse the sun for rising and the soft breeze for blowing because I didn't want to wake her. Corsica sighed in her sleep and her fingers curled on my chest. Underneath her light hand, my heart hammered and I couldn't believe the drumming didn't wake her up. I knew once she woke up, she would snap out of her solstice trance and demand to be taken back to civilization.
Corsica wouldn't be content with the savory smells of campfire breakfast that wafted up the hill. She'd be embarrassed by her tousled appearance and ready to get back to modern conveniences. I could already imagine her griping about the tangles in her hair.
I lightly plucked a few blades of grass out of her blonde strands and smiled to myself. I wasn't in any hurry to see her wake up.
Instead, I laid back and thought over the night. There was a tight pull in my chest as I remembered the psychic. Some perceptions old Tabitha had, I scoffed. She didn't even notice that our whole engagement was an act.
Though, she knew right away what Corsica had been through. Her mother had died of ca
ncer and here she was going through it all again. Except it was my mother, my family, and we were still perfect strangers.
I skipped those thoughts; they didn't make sense. The only thing I knew was that when Corsica kissed me, the whole world faded away. It still felt like we were on a separate cloud, with the morning fog gathering in the groves below us.
"What time is it?" Corsica murmured against my neck.
"Too early for a run, if that's what you're thinking." I squeezed her closer until her eyes opened. "You did it, by the way. You survived a whole night out in the open air."
Corsica was still too sleepy to be annoyed. She stretched against me and smiled. "I seem to recall doing much more than surviving."
My throat closed up and my body roared to life. Still, I was afraid to move, as if one shift would break the spell. Instead, I counted the leaves above us and pretended her smile hadn't set me on fire.
"Well, if it's too early for a run and you're too lazy to get up, I might as well make us some coffee." Corsica pushed away from me.
I watched the bare expanse of her back disappear under her sundress. "There are coffee grounds in my pack and a coffee press. I'll have to make a fire first."
Her hair whipped back. "No. I'm going to prove to you once and for all that I can handle myself at a campsite. I'll make the fire. You can heat the water for the coffee."
I was amazed with her efficiency. The fire was small and she managed to focus the heat so the water boiled easily. While she admired her own handwork, Corsica combed her fingers through her hair and ended up looking as fresh as if she'd just stepped out of the five-star spa. The fact that she could erase our wild night together so easily irked me, and I ground my teeth over the coffee.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my mother," Corsica said. "I just didn't think it was a good time, you know?"
I stabbed the coals of the fire with a stick. "I know. Thanks. I just feel bad. All that talk about doctors and treatments must have been rough on you."
"Not as rough as sleeping on the ground," Corsica said.
The knot of irritation slipped free and I smiled. "I knew it! You'd prefer Egyptian cotton sheets and down pillows every time, wouldn't you."
Her smile warmed with a secret fire. "And what if I prefer what I had last night?"
My body jolted. "Like what?"
Corsica laughed. "The stars bright above us. They were beautiful. Why? What'd you think I was going to say?"
"I don't know. We don't know each other that well."
"We're getting there," she replied. "And speaking of getting places: where are we?"
I sipped my coffee. "About two miles above the 'glamping' sites we passed yesterday."
Corsica's eyes lit up. "I've been thinking about those sites. I love that idea. Why do we have to sacrifice comfort and luxury just to be out in nature? There are plenty of elegant ways to bring a little opulence to the outdoors. I bet people would pay a bundle if it was done right."
"Bet you could turn a tidy profit and get to know all sorts of wealthy types," I muttered.
Corsica continued to brainstorm as we packed up camp and hiked back down to my mother's encampment. The magic of the solstice had definitely passed when the first person to greet us was my father. Corsica borrowed a pen from him and started writing down her ideas.
Xavier chuckled. "You two look happy."
I scowled. "She's determined to bring 'opulence to the outdoors.'"
"Maybe happy is not the right word. You two look like your mother and I did when we were first falling in love."
"Was that before or after you two realized you could never change each other?" I asked.
"What's to change?" Xavier asked. "You two are perfect together. Even Tabitha the psychic said so."
Tabitha was wrong, and the next few days proved it. Corsica talked about nothing but high end camping equipment, the shiny, elegant kind that would never help anyone survive on a real camping trip. Her ideas were sprinkled with tiny insights into the camping she did as a child, but those short glimmers were not enough to give me hope. She was stuck on the comforts of life and would never see it any other way.
She would never see it my way.
A few days later, I figured I must have dreamt it all–maybe I drank too much dandelion wine–but the Corsica I held in the oak grove was gone. In her place was a chattering shopper who left me on the street while she cooed over some brand name dress in a shop window.
"What? You want me to buy it for you?" I asked.
Corsica turned on me with an angry flash of her eyes. "Did I ask you to buy it? What's wrong with liking the way something looks? I can't admire nice things?"
"By all means, get a closer look."
"I'm going to try it on," Corsica snapped. She marched into the shop.
I felt like an ass when I realized the store was consignment. Whatever high fashion Corsica had found was within her tight and practical budget. I went inside to apologize and then overheard her talking to the clerk.
"You've got a good eye," the clerk said as Corsica plucked an Hermes scarf from a jumbled bin. "An expensive eye."
Her blonde hair tossed. "I got it from my mother. She was forever sending away for catalogs of clothes she couldn't possibly afford. She called it fun, but it was sad to see how much she wanted those pretty, expensive things."
"Your mother never heard of consignment?"
Corsica laughed. "There was no such thing in the town where I grew up, and we didn't travel much. My mother got sick and the only times we went to the city were for her treatments."
The clerk patted her hand. "Your mother must have had a beautiful sense of style because she certainly passed it on to you. Do you want the dress?"
"No, thanks. I better get back to my-oh!" Corsica spotted me and her light smile disappeared. "I'm done. We can go. Sorry to make you wait."
"Is that Versace?" I asked.
The clerk nodded and held up the sapphire blue dress. It was tight sheath with a curved neckline and a delicate embroidered pattern of blue silk thread. I knew instantly how beautiful her eyes would be over that perfect dress and the air contracted in my lungs.
"She'll take it," I said. "If you have shoes to match."
The clerk scurried to the back room with a squeal of excitement.
Corsica stood still and didn't meet my eyes. "I don't need the dress. Thanks, though."
"You'll need something for the engagement party my friends are planning. Was that true about your mother?"
"That was a long time ago." She shrugged.
I bought the dress and the silver heels the clerk unearthed. Corsica was quiet and let me carry the bag as we left the shop.
"What next?" I asked.
She stopped on the street and gazed out over the Pacific. "What about paddle boarding? I hear it's really fun."
"You're messing with me," I said with a surprised laugh.
"If you can buy Versace just to make a point, then I can kick your ass in paddle boarding."
We were playfully battling when someone called Corsica's name. Her blonde head snapped up and her whole expression changed. It settled into that perfect and still smile that made me want to roar in frustration.
The cool, collected, and primly aloof Corsica turned to greet her friend. "Kara, how nice to see you. What are you doing in Monterey?"
"I was just going to ask you the same thing. Everyone on campus seemed to think you'd gone off to the city." Kara tipped down her Ralph Lauren sunglasses with a perfectly manicured hand. "I thought you had to work all summer."
Corsica tittered. "No, not at all. Unless you call staying there work."
Kara's head snapped around to study my house on the shoreline. Her plumped smile thinned a bit, but she turned back and kept her voice friendly. "Out doing a little shopping?"
I opened the bag for the nosy woman to see. "She treated herself to a Versace dress. Or maybe she's treating me to the view of her in it."
Kara slipped her su
nglasses off and batted her eyelashes at me. "You look so familiar. Have we met before?"
"You might know his father, though I'm not certain you run in the same circles," Corsica said. "Nice running into you again. We'll have to get together while you're in town."
She waved over her shoulder as she dragged me away.
I waited until we reached the end of the block. "Back to pretending?" I asked.
Corsica dropped my arm. "Like you're one to talk. What's this about an engagement party?"
"That's to make my mother happy," I snapped. "What was all that about?"
"Kara always thinks she's better than everyone else. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two." Corsica frowned. "And, you don't get to make a big deal out of it. You're the one lying to your parents. All I did was let some snob make the wrong assumptions."
"Fair enough," I said. And, it was.
Corsica was only pretending because I had asked her to, but it bothered me how far her desire to appear rich reached. What did she care what some snob from her college thought? It made me think I had been right about what Corsica was really after.
"So, how about paddle boarding?"
I glanced at my phone and saw a lifeline. "Sorry, but it looks like I'm meeting Phillip for drinks. Are you okay heading back to the house on your own?"
Corsica's eyes skimmed away from me. Then she squared her shoulders and smiled, though not at me. "Probably better that you go to happy hour. I was planning on practice the piano for a while and it doesn't sound too pretty yet."
Watching her delicate fingers dance over the black and white keys while her voice soared above the notes was very tempting, but I shook it off. "Ten to one Phillip's got girl trouble. You'd probably just sit there and roll your eyes at us, anyway. Good luck with the piano."
We went our separate ways, and I didn't look back until I reached the end of the block. I had hoped I felt her eyes on me, but when I looked over my shoulder, Corsica was halfway up the sidewalk towards my house.
It took all I had to pull out my phone and keep walking. "Phillip? Yeah, I'm on my way. Order me a whiskey."
Phillip pushed the double shot towards me when I slumped into the seat across from him. "Why do I think you could use this more than me? I thought I was the one that just got dumped."