by Jamie Wesley
Val shimmied her shoulders to shake off the doubt and bad memories. This was her second chance, and she wasn’t throwing it away for anything or anybody. Initially, she’d entered the Sex Sells contest as a big eff-you to her ex. Then, as her new business idea had begun to take shape in her mind, she’d started obsessively refreshing her email for news on the contest. Still, she’d been stunned when she’d learned that she was a finalist. But it was a sign. She was going to win and prove everyone who’d said she’d never be anything more than a pretty face and great body, wrong. People like her mom and her ex.
Nobody was going to distract her from her goals. Not even a ridiculously handsome man with two degrees from Harvard.
THREE
“Think, brain, think,” Malcolm muttered to himself. A plea unlikely to work, but at this point, he had nothing to lose. He’d been staring at his cabin’s four walls for the past two hours trying to come up with an idea that would wow the Sex Sells judges. None of his potential concepts were worth a damn. And that’s when he’d actually been able to concentrate on work.
Far too often, images of a certain woman kept invading his brain. The same woman who’d popped up in his dreams last night.
He couldn’t be in this deep. It didn’t make any sense. He barely knew her. He liked women. He enjoyed them, but he’d always been able to keep his eye on the main prize whether that was a scholarship to Harvard, moving up the corporate ladder, or being able to help his family financially. But Val was different.
And there he went, thinking about her again.
Malcolm jumped up. Time for some fresh air.
Five minutes later, he was walking alongside the lake. Good decision. He could feel the tension seeping out of his shoulders. The air here was clean and crisp, which he couldn’t say about his hometown. The view was spectacular. The sun glinting off the water, the trees surrounding the lake, the mountains in the distance. Now that he didn’t have on a long-sleeve shirt and pants, he could actually enjoy the scenery without feeling like he was melting.
Fellow campers were swimming, while a group he remembered from dinner last night attempted to row a boat. They kept going in circles, but they were laughing, clearly having a great time. He returned their wave.
What was he going to do about Val? The smart thing to do would be to end things before they got started. He was only here a week. Satisfied and the Sex Sells contest were his top priorities. She’d complicate his life. She’d already done so and he’d known her for twenty-four hours.
“Son of a bitch!”
Malcolm jumped. Who was that? Whoever it was sounded like he was in distress. Or extremely pissed off. He veered to his right down a path. And then he blinked.
A clean-cut man, about Malcolm’s height with neat brown hair, was juggling three large pumpkins while another rolled away from him.
Malcolm hurried over and grabbed the runaway pumpkin before it could make its escape into the trees. “Hey, you need some help?”
The pumpkin juggler sighed. “I’m not in the mood to say no, am I? Thanks.”
Malcolm relieved him of one of the pumpkins and balanced his two against his chest. “Where to?”
“The main lodge. I’m Michael Tully, by the way. My wife, Heather, and I own this place.”
“Malcolm Turner.”
“Nice to meet you, Malcolm. I’d offer to shake your hand, but you know…” He readjusted the pumpkins in his hands.
Malcolm smiled. “No worries.” They headed toward the main lodge. “Can I ask why you’re carrying a bunch of pumpkins? Last time I checked, Halloween is a few months away.”
Michael chuckled. “My wife. I love my wife.”
Malcolm glanced his way. “But…”
“There’s no but. She loves coming up with ideas. When the camp shuts down for the summer, she wants to open it as a haunted house on the weekends leading up to Halloween. You can’t have Halloween without jack-o’-lanterns, but she’s never made one, so we’re going to practice come hell or high water. I thought I could carry all the pumpkins without making an extra trip, but the pumpkins weren’t having it.”
“Oh, okay.”
Michael chuckled. “We’re not crazy.”
Malcolm joined in the laughter. “I wouldn’t dream of calling you crazy. I co-own a company with my sisters. I love strong women with an entrepreneurial spirit.”
“Even when they’re driving you crazy?”
Malcolm thought about the moment when his sisters told him he wasn’t welcome in the office for the next week. “Well, mostly.”
Michael nodded in commiseration. “Did I take you away from something? Sorry, I didn’t think to ask.”
“No, I was taking a walk around the lake.”
“By yourself?”
Malcolm nodded.
Michael studied him. “Have a lot on your mind, huh?”
They’d reached the lodge. The dance to get the door open without dropping their precious cargo saved Malcolm from having to answer. He followed Michael inside and down the hall to the kitchen, where he deposited his pumpkins on the counter. The mouthwatering aroma of Italian spices filled the air.
A woman wearing an apron covered with stains of various colors was stirring a pot on the stove. “Whoa, gentleman, what are you doing invading my turf?”
Michael pointed to the pumpkins. “Delivering the goods.”
She came over to inspect the fruit. “Your wife is really serious about turning this into Camp Halloween, huh?”
“Yep. Meg, this is Malcolm. He rescued me when one of the pumpkins decided to make a run for it. Meg is our head chef.”
“Nice to meet you.” She swept her gaze up and down his figure. Her eyes widened. “Oh, it’s you.”
Malcolm looked behind him to make sure she wasn’t talking to someone else. “Uh…excuse me?”
“You look exactly like they described.”
They? Who was she talking about?
“You were the talk of the kitchen last night,” she said, pointing her spoon at him. He sidestepped the splotch of marinara sauce that flew at him.
What? Had he entered the Twilight Zone? He frowned. “Why?”
“You were sitting at the front table and looked like you’d been poleaxed when Val came out on stage. Everyone noticed. Servers talk and come back to the kitchen with news.”
Great. Now everybody knew his business. Malcolm held back a sigh. “She’s a beautiful woman.”
“She is. Allison, our pastry chef, said she saw you walking Val to her cabin last night.”
“I did.” As far as he was willing to go. He hadn’t come here to gossip.
Meg scooted closer, her eyes bright and inquisitive. “What happened when you got to her cabin?”
Michael shot Meg a look, then turned toward Michael. “You don’t have to answer that. Let me walk you out.”
Malcolm happily followed him to the door.
“Nice to meet you, Malcolm,” Meg called out.
He waved over his shoulder. “You, too.”
“Sorry about that,” Michael said when they exited the lodge. “We’re our own little family here, which also means we’re not afraid of getting into everyone’s business.”
Malcolm slipped his hands into his pockets. “No worries.”
“Thanks again for helping out.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice meeting you.” Malcolm headed toward the path that would take him to his cabin.
“Malcolm?”
He stopped and peered over his shoulder. “Yeah?”
Compassion, not nosiness, filled Michael’s eyes. “Look, I don’t know you, but I know that look on your face. I’ve been there. When you find someone who makes you take sad, lonely walks around the lake because you’re not with her, go after her. Life’s too short not to be with the one you want.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” With Val, he was almost certain he didn’t have much of a choice.
***
“Why are you calling me,
Mayo?” Tori’s sigh reached Malcolm loud and clear through his cell phone.
Because he needed a distraction from the foolishness he’d just engaged in. His sister using his childhood nickname didn’t change that fact. “Because the last time I checked, I’m one of the co-owners of Satisfied Lingerie, and I like to stay up to date on business, Tomato.”
She sighed again. “The world hasn’t collapsed in the thirty-six hours you’ve been gone. Please tell me you haven’t been obsessing about business this whole time. Tell me you’ve gone out and done something fun.”
Did fantasizing about a professional aerialist/dancer when he should have been working count?
“Hello? Malcolm? You still there?”
“Sorry. I carried pumpkins.”
“What?”
A murmur began to sweep through the crowd. He checked his watch. Almost time. “Gotta go. Talk to you later.”
He hung up before his sister could reply.
He’d stayed away the entire day like he’d ordered himself to do. But now here he was, waiting to see Val perform. To see if she still fascinated him, he’d told himself as he showered. Maybe he’d built up their attraction in his head. He needed to find out.
Because he was a man of logic, he’d arrived early to make sure he commandeered the same table as last night. Yet he’d still had to engage in a heated stare-down with another guy who’d arrived at the table at the same time. A sense of possessiveness had engulfed him when he recognized the other man’s intent. The other camper must have taken note of Malcolm’s willingness to go toe-to-toe because he’d backed down after a few, tense seconds.
Malcolm had dropped into his chair and immediately called his sister. What else was he supposed to do after behaving like a Neanderthal? No doubt the servers were already running to the kitchen to tell the story.
The curtain went up to reveal Val. He sucked in a breath.
She did not disappoint. Tonight, her costume was black instead of ruby red, but it still sparkled under the lights, drawing every eye in the room to her amazing figure as she twisted and contorted around the pole, each position more beautiful, awe-inspiring, and sexier than the last.
He willed her to make eye contact with him. When she did, she was bold. Unrepentant. Though he’d expected nothing lose. As much as he stared, she wasn’t afraid to give it right back to him. But her concentration on her set never wavered. She controlled the room and all its occupants. All eyes were on her and it was clear she wanted it no other way.
She approached him after the aerial portion of her routine concluded like she’d done last night.
“Hi, Harvard,” she whispered in his ear. This time, however, she moved away before he could touch her. “Nuh uh.” She wagged her finger at him, much to the delight of the other audience members.
For most of his life, academic and career pursuits had taken precedence, but here in the middle of the Berkshires, he was ready to change course.
What the hell he was doing? Preparing to play.
For the first time in too long, he felt like himself. He had a plan. A purpose.
Now, he needed a playmate.
After the show, he waited outside for her. At least he didn’t have to wonder if she’d show up. She liked the game they were playing too much. Of that, he had no doubt. It was only logical.
Again, she walked out with her friend. Again, he rose from his position against the building and stepped into the light. “Ms. Shaw. A moment of your time, please.”
Again, she paused and studied him, sizing him up as if to determine if he was worthy of her attention. Again, she whispered to her friend, who smiled and waved goodbye.
Again, Val walked toward him and said, “What can I help you with?”
Except she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. She didn’t say anything. She did keep walking right past him. Expecting him to chase her like every other guy in her life, no doubt. But he wasn’t every guy. Not even close.
“Ms. Shaw,” he called out.
She stopped and peered over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“I asked for a moment of your time.”
“Yes, I know. I couldn’t decide whether or not to grant it.”
“Why not?”
She faced him fully then. “What do you want, Harvard?”
Time for some brutal honesty. “I’m not the only one feeling what’s happening between us.”
She made a scoffing noise. “Underneath that gentlemanly, proper exterior, you’re an arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Some would say so. I prefer honest. I assess a situation and all its facts and act accordingly.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What have you assessed about this situation?”
“You intrigue me.” An understatement if there’d ever been one.
Val’s hands landed at her waist. “You mean I turn you on.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “That too.”
Unmistakable interest entered her eyes. “Too?”
“You’re very talented. I’m wondering why you’re dancing at a camp for adults instead of on Broadway or something.”
Shrugging, Val moved in the direction of her cabin. Malcolm followed. “That might happen someday. Life takes some funny, twisty turns, but I believe you end up where you’re supposed to be eventually.”
“You think so?” He’d mapped out his life path so thoroughly he’d been shaken to his core when he was told the road had closed. He hadn’t considered that it was a turn, instead of an ending.
She stopped to stare at him. “I do.”
He didn’t talk about that time. His sisters had tried, but he kept that sense of failure locked down, only to be used as motivation. “Do you like it here?”
It took her a few seconds to answer, but then she nodded. “I do,” she said, continuing on her way. “Do you?”
“This isn’t my usual habitat, but it’s growing on me. What’s your favorite spot?”
She sent a smile over her shoulder. “Angling to spend more time with me?”
“Yes.” They were nearing her cabin and he had no intention of saying goodbye. He saw no reason to deny it.
“Today’s your lucky day then.” She held up a finger. “Don’t say it.”
He held up his palms, though he struggled not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Instead of taking the right turn that would lead to her cabin, she veered off the path into the woods. Branches crunched under their feet as they maneuvered between trees. They exited the forest and headed toward a dock he hadn’t noticed before. Old, weather-beaten wood creaked under their feet.
Malcolm looked around, the moonlight providing the only illumination. Despite being out on the water, the dock still offered a surprising measure of privacy.
“I like this spot,” Val said. “It’s far enough away that most people don’t venture out here, but you get a view of the main gazebo lit up at night. It’s right on the water, so there’s a breeze. Plus, there’s something about getting away from the hustle and bustle of camp.” Her voice quieted. “I can just be.”
He sensed there was more to that statement than a desire to commune with nature.
“I come out here and listen to music,” she continued. She tugged her phone out of her shorts pocket and tapped the screen a couple of times. A second later, an old Usher hit filled the air. Her hips swayed to the beat of the music.
He watched, transfixed. “You love it. Dancing, don’t you?”
She continued to sway, completing a gentle pirouette, an expression of bliss gracing her face. “Yes, it’s the love of my life.”
“The love of your life?”
“Yes. It’s never let me down and has always been there for me.”
The passion and conviction in her voice rang true. What must it be like to find something that gave you so much joy? He enjoyed marketing. He was good at it, but he couldn’t say it was his passion.
He studied her profile. Who hadn’t been the
re for her? But that was none of his business. They barely knew each other. They were just flirting. Deep conversations were for deep relationships.
“What’s your favorite style of dance?” he asked.
Her face lit up with happiness. “Can I say all of them? I have the most training in modern, but I’ve taken every class you can think of. Ballroom, tap, ballet, hip hop, you name it. I can do a competent waltz or go on tour with Beyoncé if she asked. They all allow me to express myself in different ways. Do you dance?”
Malcolm shook his head. “No.”
“You should. It’s fun, and you need some fun in your life.”
Her hips continued to transfix him. He smiled. “You going to dance with me?”
Another song came on. An oldie this time. Otis Redding’s These Arms of Mine.
“Today really is your lucky day. Come on.” She grabbed his hands and wrapped them around her waist.
Just like that, he was lost. Letting her go was not an option. Her hands slid slowly up his chest and locked behind his neck.
They fit perfectly together, but they weren’t dancing. Not even close. Shuffling. If even that. Pressed close together. He trailed his fingers down her back to her bare legs, longing to touch every part of her he could.
The song ended. An Aaliyah song came on. It wasn’t a slow jam. Still they didn’t move away. The moment, with her, felt right. Necessary.
He didn’t know how long they stood there. A shout of laughter from across the lake broke the spell. She untwined her hands and stepped away. Leaving him feeling empty. Alone. Resisting the urge to bring her close again.
Val stared out at the water. “Well, now that you’re here, what are you looking forward to doing?”
“Working.”
She turned to him, her eyebrows scrunched together. “Really? That’s a shame.”