She ran the potato under the water spigot and then stabbed it a few times with the fork before handing it to Mary. “Things are very settled between Joe and I. When you guys go home, I’m going back to Los Angeles, where I’ll write my article and get my promotion.”
“We’ll see,” Mary said with an enigmatic smile Keri was afraid to analyze too much. She wrapped the last potato and set down the aluminum foil. “Go help Theresa with the corn, sweetie.”
Great. Cornhusking and a healthy dose of attitude. Just what her day needed. But she did as she was told and dragged a chair over to what looked like bushels of ears of corn. Not that she knew what a bushel looked like, but it was a lot.
“I’ve got this,” Terry snapped.
“Your mother told me to help you. Take it up with her.”
When she didn’t, Keri picked up an ear of corn and tried to do to it what Terry was doing to hers. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, though, and the sticky stuff that was like hair was clinging to the corn and then clinging to her.
“You can buy corn on the cob already prepped, you know,” she said, not even trying to hide her irritation.
“It’s not as good that way.”
She was about to say she was one sticky piece of corn string away from joining Evan and Steph in roasting hot dogs on sticks, then closed her mouth. Probably not the right time to imply Evan was doing something in a better way than his pissed-off wife.
“I can’t believe he came up here,” Terry muttered at the ear of corn she was mauling.
Keri wasn’t sure if she was actually talking to the corn, or if the comment was directed at her, but it was an opening. “Don’t you think it’s a good thing? You called and he came running. Literally.”
“No.” She snapped the ends of the corn off with frighteningly little effort. “I don’t think it’s a good thing. What is it going to help, him being over there cooking like a freakin’ caveman?”
“He’d be over here if you weren’t being such a bitch.”
For a second, she thought Terry was going to chuck an ear of corn at her. But then the mask slipped—just for a second—and Keri saw not anger or annoyance, but total devastation.
“Things were said that can’t ever be taken back,” Terry said quietly, but then she resumed ripping into the corn. “What the hell would you know about it, anyway?”
“About as much as I do about corn on the cob,” she replied, knowing she’d pushed Terry as far as she could for the moment.
They were on the last ears when Joe walked up behind Keri and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Ma said to hurry up or—”
“We’ll be having corn on the cob for midnight snack,” they finished together.
Keri managed a laugh, but she was hyper-aware of Joe’s fingers curling over her shoulders. And hyper-aware of his mother milling around the site, probably nursing her glow of maternal satisfaction thinking Joe was one step closer to being settled.
She tried shrugging him off, but he didn’t take the hint, so short of reaching up and physically removing his hands, there was nothing she could do. And, Mary aside, she didn’t really want to.
She was only vaguely aware of Joe talking about what was happening with the steaks and chicken breasts, but very aware of his thumbs making small circles, drawing closer and closer to the base of her neck.
What was unsettling was how natural—how couple-like—the gesture was. She had no doubt he was doing it subconsciously with a lack of awareness that made her fear he was thinking along the same lines as his mother.
But then his right thumb hit the sweet spot at the top of her spine and she didn’t care anymore. There was something to be said for a man who remembered just where and how she liked to be touched.
And as she dropped her head a little, encouraging him to move those magic thumbs up to her hairline, she couldn’t help wondering what else he remembered about touching her.
Joe didn’t think there was anything much sadder than a guy sitting alone, staring into his campfire, and it wasn’t long before Kevin ditched them to meander over to Evan’s site.
Joe and Mike, being a little more sensitive to Terry and Lisa’s disapproval, didn’t dare, though they both looked over when Kevin’s laughter reached their ears.“Go,” Terry said.
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Go, but be prepared to suffer for it later, right?”
She sighed. “No, just go hang out at Evan’s campfire. Like Joe reminded me earlier, you guys have been friends for years. I promise I won’t hold it against either of you.”
They left on the double-quick, before she could change her mind, but then Joe remembered Keri. “You don’t mind, do you, babe?”
Since he was halfway across the playground, dragging his chair behind him, when he yelled it, she couldn’t very well say no. Or complain about his calling her babe in front of his family. But he was still relieved when she laughed and waved him away.
The pop and hiss of three cans of Bud—and a Coke for Joe—being opened signaled the commencement of a guy’s night out, even if they were only fifty yards from the women and children.
After they ran through sports, politics and an intense debate of Victoria’s Secret versus Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition models, along with the better part of a twelve-pack, the talk inevitably ran to women.
“We’ve got more women troubles among us four than any dozen men should have to bear,” Evan complained, being a couple of beers ahead of the rest of them.
“I’m not troubled,” Joe protested.
Mike laughed and popped open another. “Man, you got even more troubles than us because you’re still stupid enough to think there’s hope.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re married to a great woman. Kevin’s got bar bunnies throwing themselves at him and Terry admitted she misses Evan. Hope abounds, my friend.”
“You gettin’ any yet?” Kevin asked him.
“Hell no.” Joe raised his can in a mock toast. “But again, hope abounds.”
“You gettin’ old or what?” Kevin asked. “You guys are all alone in that cabin and you can’t get lucky?”
Mike snorted. “Maybe he was that bad the first time around.”
“She’s had a real man since then,” Evan added, “and she’s too worn out from riding to fake a decent orgasm.”
Now that wasn’t funny. “I don’t know what you’ve been doing wrong, but my women don’t fake a damn thing.”
“Hell, Terry doesn’t either. In fact she—”
“Whoa!” all three Kowalskis yelled in unison.
Evan sighed and took another slug of beer. “One of the suck things about being married to your sister right there. You all can share war stories from the sack, but I can’t.”
“Shit,” Joe said. “I’m still trying to scrub the image of you and her on the kitchen table out of my mind.”
Kevin groaned and covered his ears, but Mike leaned forward. “That glass thing? No way that would hold you both.”
“She wouldn’t go for it anyway.”
“Which is why you walked out, according to her.”
“Seriously? I spill my guts and the only part she hears is how I wanted to do her on the table?”
Joe shrugged. “Women.”
“Damn right,” Mike said before knocking back the rest of his beer.
When his brother looked over at the cooler, Joe wondered if maybe he should intervene. Whatever the hell was going on between Mike and his wife wouldn’t be improved any by a raging case of Drunken Ass Syndrome.
“Hey, Mike, you want one of my Cokes?”
“Nah, I’ll have another brewski.”
Well, he tried. “We should have nicked some snacks. You got anything, Evan?”
“Three packages of hot dogs and a jar of instant coffee.”
“You suck at camping, dude,” Kevin said. “You need to go home because Terry? She knows how to pack food.”
“I’m well-versed in Theresa’s superiority in all things, thanks.”
>
Ouch. “So how ’bout those Red Sox?”
The standard New England change of awkward subject worked and the conversation drifted into pitching stats and general Yankees-hating.
Until feminine laughter drifting across the playground made them all turn their heads toward the family campfire. The kids and grandparents had all fallen by the wayside at some point, leaving the three women—Keri, Lisa and Terry—illuminated by the fire and small battery-operating lantern set on a cooler. They’d pulled their chairs together and their heads were all bent over, looking at something on the big Igloo.
“I bet they’re playing dirty Scrabble again,” Kevin guessed, and he was proven right when Lisa started laying tiles on the board. Another round of laughter, though he could see them trying their best to stifle it.
Mike shook his head. “If Lisa would do half the words in bed she spells out on that board, I’d be one happy son of a bitch.”
Joe heard the guys laugh, but his lungs were having some trouble fully inflating and nothing came out.
God, she was beautiful. It was a warm night, so her flannel shirt was unbuttoned over a T-shirt and her hair was tousled a little—not sleek and perfect like usual. But it was more than her looks in the flickering light.
He wanted to stop the world from spinning. To freeze time and hold on to this moment forever.
This was the life he wanted. It was the life that once upon a time, he’d thought he’d have. Right now, it was as if Keri had never left—as if she’d been a part of his family all along.
She belonged here with him. He was sure of it. The problem was going to be convincing her.
He kept looking over at her. Keri knew that, of course, because she kept looking at him.
He was in his element over there, kicked back with his brothers and brother-in-law. Though she couldn’t hear their conversation, their laughter occasionally drifted across the playground, making her glance over no matter how hard she tried not to.“He hasn’t moved any,” Lisa teased after the umpteenth time Keri’s head swiveled on her neck.
He certainly hadn’t. In the glow of Evan’s very enthusiastic campfire, she could see his long, denim-clad legs stretched out in front of him. His head was leaned back against the chair and he dangled a can of Coke idly over the arm.
“Ha!” Terry exclaimed, putting all of her tiles on the board. “And since I know neither of you will say that out loud, that’s a triple word score for me.”
Keri dragged her attention back to the outrageous game of Scrabble she’d gotten sucked into after the kids and grandparents had gone inside. “Umm…yeah, I’m not saying that out loud.”
“Is that even a real thing?” Lisa asked.
Terry looked smug, until Keri said, “Yeah, I’ve done that.”
Both women stared at her. “You didn’t! But you can’t say it?”
They spoke in stereo and when Keri shrugged, they both dissolved into laughter again. It lasted long enough for her to sneak another peek at Joe.
He was on his feet—they all were—and he was headed her way. “Uh-oh, looks like the party’s over.”
In the blink of an eye, Lisa had the board tilted, sliding the tiles into the bottom of the box. “If Mike thinks I know some of these words, he might want me to actually do some of these words.”
Keri laughed, but she noticed Terry didn’t. She was too busy watching her husband, who wasn’t crossing the playground toward them. Evan was heading toward the bathhouse and he didn’t even look their way.
Terry probably didn’t realize it, but everything she felt was playing out across her face and it all added up to heartbroken longing.
“Later, when it’s quiet, you should go talk to him,” she said quickly, while the guys were still far enough away not to hear.
“Or maybe he should come talk to me.”
Keri wanted to say more, but she didn’t have time. Joe was there, sliding his arm around her waist as if it was the most normal thing in the world to do.
“Ready for bed, babe?”
When he said it like that, all husky and hot, she was definitely ready for bed. And maybe for a little of that seven letter, double word score verb Terry had laid down across the U in Lisa’s pubic.
“I’d like to take a shower first,” she said, but not because she was planning to get naked with him or anything. “Because…umm, bug spray, you know? The DEET’s gotta be a half-inch thick by now.”
“Sure. We’ll grab our stuff and I’ll join you.”
Wet. Naked. Soapy. Slick. Yes, please.
“Good plan,” Terry said. “She won’t have to worry about the DEET tomorrow since she won’t have any bug spray.”
Lisa snickered, but Joe shook his head. “Relax, sis. I meant to join her at the bathhouse. In my own shower.”
Well, damn.
No, that was a good thing. There was a reason she wasn’t sleeping with Joe. What was it? Oh yeah. Only everything she’d spent the last almost-twenty years working for. “Okay.”
Goodnights all around and then she was alone with Joe. Again. He smelled like campfire smoke and bug spray but, then again, so did she.
“Who was winning before Lisa dumped the board so we wouldn’t see?” he asked as they turned the corner toward the cabin.
“I was.”
He leaned close and bumped her with his shoulder as they walked. “You must know some really good dirty words.”
“Oh, I do,” she said in a low voice. “Some were so naughty Lisa hadn’t even heard of them.”
He stumbled, just a little, but enough to merit holding her arm to steady himself. His hand lingered and it seemed like every nerve ending in her body focused on that spot. She was in so much trouble.
“Really? And you know of these things how?”
She smiled at him. “I read a lot.”
“Huh. I’d really like to rummage through your library sometime.”
They grabbed their bags and made the walk back to the bathhouse, where he naturally chose the bathroom right next to hers so she could hear him moving around. The tap-tap of his razor against the sink between each swipe over his jaw. The clink of the quarters in the metal coin box. The shower running. The shower door closing.
Oh God, he was naked.
Shaving one’s legs in a tiny shower unit was hard enough without the distraction of a naked, sudsy Joe on the other side of the partition, so Keri tried to block out the sounds from next door and focus on what she was doing.
And to focus on the inevitable. She wasn’t going to be able to hold out for another week. She’d be lucky if she held out long enough to get back to the cabin at this rate. If she wasn’t in the process of showering off the bug spray, she’d drag Joe behind the nearest tree.
The important thing was making it very clear to him—and to herself, of course—that any little trips down Nostalgia Lane were merely detours. The primary route was still the superhighway to the top of Spotlight Magazine’s food chain and she’d hit the on-ramp the second this exercise in blackmail Kowalski-style was over.
She could put her professionalism on hold for an hour…or three. Maybe several times over the course of the night if she was lucky and Joe was aging well, so to speak.
If she was really lucky, they’d find out it wasn’t that easy to recapture that Boone’s Farm-fueled, first-love magic, the sex would suck, and she could get back to focusing on what was really important.
Chapter Twelve
Joe propped himself against the big boulder outside the bathhouse and waited for Keri to finish up.
And waited…and waited…and waited.Either she’d brought an entire pocketful of quarters or she was taking as cold a shower as he had. Not that it had helped. He was pretty sure the water had vaporized the instant it made contact with his skin.
He’d be lucky if he made it through the night, never mind another week.
When Keri finally opened the door and stepped out into the night, the hot steamy scent of mandarin oranges and something sp
icy wafted out with her, like she was a warm dessert waiting to be devoured.
“Feel better?” he managed to ask after clearing his throat a couple of times.
“Much, but I’m a little fruit-scented so let’s walk fast before the bugs find me.”
She seemed nervous about something, which he found interesting. Very interesting. How many reasons were there for a woman who was freshly showered and scented and shaven—the top of her shaving gel can peeked out of her bag—and on her way to being alone in a cabin with a man to be nervous?
Only one he could think of, but it was a good one. Maybe, while she was mere feet away from him, naked and soapy and slippery, she’d been thinking about the same thing he was.
And, oh there was a Santa Claus and he must have thought Joe Kowalski was good enough to get his Christmas present early, because as soon as the cabin door was closed behind them, Keri dropped her bags and said, “I’m going back to Los Angeles next week.”
“Okay.”
“And I can’t take it anymore. The touches. The looks. Let’s just do it and get it over with.”
She looked so frazzled he almost laughed at her. “Well, when you put it like that…”
“Unless you don’t want to,” she snapped.
“Oh, I want to, babe.” To prove it, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling her close enough so she could feel just how much he wanted to. “There’s really no way you could have phrased that invitation that would make me turn it down.”
A blush spread over her cheeks. “Do you have protection?”
“Shit.”
“Please tell me that doesn’t mean no.”
“I left the box in my truck. In the glove box.” And he wished like hell he’d remembered that before he got his hands on her.
“You carry a whole box of condoms in your glove box?”
“I stopped at the drug store and bought them on the way up, so I shoved them in there.” He wasn’t ready when she gave him a little shove, and only grabbing the bunk bed post kept him from going ass over teakettle.
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