by Alison Paige
“Kate?” Clayton said through the phone.
“Yeah. Hi. I’m here.” She turned toward the backdoor, giving Joe her side. It was the only way she could be sure her gaze didn’t drift back to his crotch.
“Where’s here?”
“I’m showing Joe, Mr. Garity, the cottage—the empty one.”
“Why?”
“He doesn’t want to sleep in the kids cabin.”
“No,” Clayton said. “He is not staying in that cottage. Christ, your beds will only be four feet apart.”
“Okay, first, that’s an exaggeration. It’s a whole different building. There are walls and doors and the great outdoors between our…” She glanced over to see Joe blatantly listening.
She looked away. “Whatever. And second, it’s none of your business. The man’s going to pay full price. Normally that’d get him one of the camper’s cabins to himself. But since the kids are here, this is the only option. It’s my call, Clay. City Camp is my project.”
Except for his soft frustrated breaths, Clayton was silent for several seconds. “We don’t even know who this guy is, Kate. For all you know he could be—”
“No,” she said before he could finish the thought. She knew where he was going. He was going to say something about her secret admirer or stalker as Clayton had come to describe him. It was becoming a catchall excuse when he wanted her to do something…or not do something.
“He’s not the one who’s been…” She let the sentence die unfinished, remembering the additional ears in the room. “It’s not him and you know it.”
“Fine. You’re a grown woman. Do what you want. But if you don’t get your butt over to the mess hall, you’re gonna miss dinner. Don’t expect me to ask the staff to wait.”
The line went silent. One good thing about cell phones, he couldn’t slam the line closed on her like she had a feeling he’d wanted to. She flipped hers shut and turned to Joe. He didn’t bother pretending he hadn’t been listening.
“Big brother,” he said. “Right.”
Kate rolled her eyes and left him standing in the kitchen as she headed for the front door. She didn’t have to explain anything to this guy. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know what her relationship with Clayton was like, what her relationship with the Thorndikes was like. Joe couldn’t judge her. Hell, he didn’t know anything more about her than she knew about him.
And yet two seconds ago she’d been ready to climb him like a tree. Clayton was right. What on earth was she doing setting him up so close to her home?
I’m being my normal oversexed self, that’s what. It wasn’t her fault. Most little girls had their mommy to tell them cutesy little metaphors about cows and free milk and there being no reason to buy. Kate’s mom had abandoned her to a father who was too busy getting free milk for himself to warn her of the pitfalls.
Not that warnings would’ve done any good. She liked sex and because of that fact, or despite it, she’d never been the kind of cow men wanted to buy. Damn insulting metaphor. Whatever.
Joe Garity had gotten admitted to the camp under false pretenses and that pissed her off. He’d taken the place of a needy, deserving kid, and that pissed her off. It was his fault there was no place left for him to stay except the cottage right smack next to hers. But something about the entire situation, about Joe, gave her a warm tingling thrill down deep inside her, and that unnerved her most of all.
“You plan on sleeping here tonight?” she said over her shoulder, one hand on the front door knob.
Joe had followed as far as the entrance to the hall at the living room, where he’d stopped to lean a shoulder. “Yeah.”
She gave a nod. She’d figured. “I’ll have some sheets and blankets and towels brought over. I think Clayton’s cousin, Rich, is the only one who’s used the mattress, but maybe there’s a fresher one in the main house we can switch out with it.”
“Mattress is fine. No worse than a hotel’s.”
“Good.” She wanted to get out of there. Looking at him, at his silky black hair, his warm dark eyes, his soft lips with the little scar at the corner, only made her want to stay. He made her want to revel in the sheer pleasure his body could give hers. And for the first time in her life that wasn’t a good enough. Kate wanted more.
“Dinner’s over in fifteen minutes.” She walked out.
Chapter Three
“Slap a Campbell’s label on him ’cause he looks mm-mm good.” Ginny edged forward.
Kate snorted and followed Ginny’s gaze back toward the end of the line. Surrounded by giddy adolescents, Joe looked perfectly at ease. His hands in his pants pockets, his chin lowered, he listened and nodded at the excited exchanges going on around him.
Without warning or raising his head, Joe’s dark gaze met hers. The corners of his mouth rose, his smile crooked, more self-satisfied than pleasantly surprised.
She saw more than heard him say, “Uh-huh, real jet engines,” before his attention shifted back to his pint-sized rapt audience. Kate turned her back on the scene and took her tray.
“Technically, he’s a camper.” She followed behind Ginny to the milk cooler. “Shouldn’t there be some kind of moral issue tangled up with lusting after him?”
“Seriously?” Ginny grabbed a carton of chocolate milk and shifted her weight to one slender hip. “Kate, he’s a grown man. A hot grown man. You’re the boss, but if you ask me it sounds like you’re fishing for excuses. Which, coming from you is, y’know, freaky.”
“I don’t go after every man I meet. Sheesh. I do have some self-control.” Kate grabbed a carton of two-percent and tried to catch up to Ginny on her way to the counselors table at the far end of the hall.
“I know, but what more do you want?” Ginny rounded to the other side of the table. “He’s hot, he’s here and he even lied about his age just so you could give him riding lessons.”
Kate sank into the chair beside Ginny, both of them facing the room, backs to the wall. “He lied to get into the camp. I doubt my teaching had anything to do with it.”
“Okay, fine. But he’s still a healthy, heterosexual, of age man who’s been trying to keep his eyes off you since he walked in the door.” Ginny nodded to the dinner line.
Kate shifted her gaze to see Joe adding a few final items on his tray—there was little room left. He turned and Kate looked away. She grabbed her ketchup packet, pinched the end, then tore off the corner.
“He’s a guy. He can’t help looking at every woman in the room.” She squeezed the packet over her hotdog.
“Ya think?” Ginny said. “Good. ’Cause if you don’t want him, I’d like to see how he rides. Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”
The comment riveted Kate’s attention to Ginny. She stared in Joe’s direction, sitting tall in her chair, shoulders back, chest thrust forward, an eager smile coloring her cheeks.
Better than a seasoned ventriloquist, Ginny’s lips stayed frozen in her smile when she spoke. “C’mon, Kate, help a girl out.”
Kate followed the direction of Ginny’s willing grin and met Joe’s interested expression. She looked back to Ginny. “How?”
“Just don’t…don’t look so experienced.”
How the heck was she supposed to do that? Ginny was twenty, Kate would be thirty in two weeks. Kate had indulged in her first sexual exploit at age thirteen. Ginny had lost her virginity last year to a fellow counselor during City Camp and never looked back. Experience defined them. But it was nice knowing she thought Kate might be a distraction for whatever reason.
Kate swung her gaze to Joe strolling toward them, dinner tray loaded. He glanced at one of the camper tables when Tony yelled for Joe to join him.
“Next time, kid.” Joe winked with a nod to Ginny. Or was he gesturing to Kate?
The young boy gave him a knowing nod and two thumbs up for his effort. A twinge of competitiveness bristled at the base of Kate’s spine, then she considered the competition.
At twenty, Ginny was fresh and new. Everythin
g was where it was supposed to be, high breasts, firm ass, narrow waist, smooth face. She had a naughty-schoolgirl look going for her, enhanced by her ice-blonde hair braided on either side of her head down to the tops of her shoulders.
Bright sea-blue eyes, thin shapely brows, impossibly long lashes, a delicate bone structure and straight white teeth; Kate wondered why she didn’t hate the young vixen. Kate was no slouch, but she wasn’t twenty.
Joe gestured toward the chair across from both her and Ginny with a tip of his chin. “This seat open?”
“Yes.” Ginny dropped her hands to her lap. She squeezed her breasts between her arms so they ballooned along the edge of her scooped-neck T-shirt. “My, I do love a man with a good appetite.”
“Good appetite?” Kate snorted before she could stop herself. “Y’know, the camp’s all-you-can-eat buffet isn’t meant as a challenge.”
Joe tore his gaze from Ginny’s overflowing cleavage to give Kate a smile, then ate his first hotdog in three bites without a word. He still had three hotdogs left, two bags of chips, two brownies, an apple and three little cartons of two-percent milk.
Lord, she wondered if that appetite extended to things other than food. Kate shifted in her chair and started on her own hotdog. Ginny was right. There was no reason two consenting adults couldn’t enjoy the pleasures of each other’s bodies.
And that weird feeling fluttering around in her belly, the one that made her mind drift to yearnings she’d learned long ago weren’t meant for a woman like her? That could be controlled—ignored. Kate flicked her gaze to Joe in time to see him down a carton of milk. Definitely worth the effort.
The sounds of the crowded cafeteria ebbed and rose and ebbed again as campers and counselors slowly finished their meals and went about their day. The kitchen staff closed the buffet and began cleaning the tables as they emptied. The sounds of sliding chairs and clanking pots melted seamlessly into the white noise and hum of conversation all around them, but Ginny’s attention remained fixed on Joe despite his often wordless responses.
“You looked really great out there today,” Ginny said, picking through the last shards in her chip bag. “Well, not the falling part. That was wicked. I mean, I was totally wiggin’ that you’d broken a hip or something.”
Joe coughed around a mouthful of his last hotdog and downed a large swallow of milk. It was a good thing Ginny was so attractive. Kate figured it made up for her utter lack of tact. She suddenly remembered why she didn’t hate the inept little flirt.
Ginny shook her head as though she needed the physical act to switch the direction of her thoughts. “Anyway, I think it’s really great that you’re trying new things. Y’know, at your age. Not that you’re old or anything. I mean, even I get sore sometimes. There are days I’d kill for a full-body rubdown.”
“Umm.” Joe swallowed a mouthful of chips and crumpled the bag. He polished off his brownie, washing it down with the last bit of his milk.
Ginny’s smile cranked up a watt. She leaned toward him, her breasts shelved on the table. “I give great full-body, hot-oil rubdowns.”
His dark eyes met hers, male interest tweaked. “That right?”
“Uh-huh.” Her expression flickered. “Or I could use Bengay if you need it. I don’t mind. I’ll borrow some from Clayton. He’s gotta be as old as you. I bet he has some. Old guys…uh, I mean older gentlemen always have some sort of achy-muscle stuff lying around. Oh, duh. What am I saying? You probably brought your own, huh?”
Kate snorted so hard she had to cover her mouth to keep her swallow of milk down and shot her gaze to Joe. He’d frozen in the middle of biting his apple. His dark eyes fixed on the clueless but hopeful Ginny.
He finished his bite and dropped his gaze, a smile fighting at the corners of his lips as he chewed. Those inky black eyes of his flicked up to Kate through his long lashes and the two of them shared a moment of complete understanding.
Kids.
“What?” Ginny looked from him to Kate and back again. “Did I say something funny? You need me to borrow some from Clayton?”
Ginny was so eager to ride her cowboy she didn’t seem to care what the matter was. It’d take next to nothing on Joe’s part to have her follow him back to his cabin and play buckin’ bronco all night.
“Thanks, darlin’, but I’m here on business. Gotta keep my head on task.” Not waiting for her response and possible argument, he looked to Kate. “Heard you say on the phone this City Camp thing’s your project.”
Kate wiped her mouth then crumpled the napkin onto her paper plate. “Yep. Four years running.”
“Impressive.” He pushed his tray to the side and leaned his elbows and forearms on the table. “Can’t be easy. Coordinating everything. Workin’ with troubled kids.”
Kate shrugged. “I’ve got a good staff. Plus Clayton helps out.”
“Your brother,” he said.
Kate met his gaze and his smirking crooked grin. “Stepbrother. Yes.”
“Right.”
Kate refused to take the bait. Whatever was going on in Clayton’s head about her, or whatever Joe thought was going on, didn’t matter. She loved him like a brother and nothing would change that. She was certainly under no obligation to explain or defend her relationship with him to Joe.
“Ever have any trouble?” he asked.
“Trouble?”
“Campers getting out of line, disgruntled employees. With you being a woman I’d imagine stuff like that could be rough to handle.”
“No harder than it would be for a man to handle.” Pride pulled her spine straighter. “And no. No trouble. The kids are chosen by their good behavior in school. A reward sort of thing. And the employees are mostly regular farm staff except for the counselors.
“There’s a waiting list at the local college. Working the camp counts toward course credit. Most know they’re lucky to be here and work hard to stay.”
“Most?”
“She’s thinking about Frank,” Ginny said. “Ass. He was in one of my psych courses. He sat in the back of the class and slept. Snored so loud the professor threw him out a couple of times. That is when he bothered to show up at all.”
Joe’s gaze swung back to Kate. “What happened with Frank?”
“Nothing, really.” Kate meant to leave it at that, but some strange impulse possessed her mouth and she couldn’t stop herself from adding, “He was a little obsessed with me. That’s all.”
“Obsessed?” Joe’s dark eyes sparked, interest leaning him a hairsbreadth closer.
It was like a woman’s version of the fish-that-got-away story. The fish gets grander with each telling. Not that Frank was a fish she’d ever want to keep. She rolled her shoulders and nudged her empty milk carton with the prongs of her plastic spork.
“He asked me out a few times.” He’d asked her out once. “I had to keep telling him no. I don’t date the counselors.” But she had slept with one or two who were over twenty-one and too buff to refuse. She’d needed the release.
“He was pretty torn up about it. Started affecting his work.” His laziness had been affecting his work from the start. Her refusal only made his poor work ethic worse. “It got so bad Clayton finally fired him.”
“Clayton fired him?” His right brow shot to his hairline. “Because he was a lousy employee or because he kept asking you out?”
“Well, both. But he wasn’t jealous.” She could tell that’s what he was thinking.
“’Course not.” A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips then vanished. “Ever hear from him again?”
“No.”
“Ya-huh.” Ginny elbowed her arm hard enough to make her topple the milk carton. “Doesn’t he work at Sherman’s Feed Store now?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She’d forgotten. He never spoke to her, barely acknowledged her presence the few times he’d seen her. Not that she cared. She didn’t make any special effort toward him either. Why would she?
“But I hardly see him. Probably stays in the ba
ck to avoid me. Broken heart. You know.” More like he’s lounging somewhere trying to sleep through his shift with no reason to rouse himself for a woman who’d already turned him down.
“How often do you go to this feed store?”
“About every other week. Wednesdays, usually.”
“Today’s Sunday, right? You going this Wednesday?”
“Uhm, yeah.” What was with the interest in her schedule?
He gave a nod and settled back in his chair. “I’ll go with you.”
“What? Why?” He didn’t seriously think she needed his protection, did he? The idea was really sweet, but he barely knew her. It was a little soon to be getting all possessive and protective of her. Not that she knew when that sort of impulse normally kicked in. A byproduct of relationships, which made it a foreign concept. Kate didn’t have relationships. She had interludes. Relationships were for the cows men wanted to buy. Gawd, she hated that damn metaphor.
“It’s in town, right? Figured I’d take a look around. Never been this far out before. I was a city kid myself.”
“Oh.” Geez, what was it about this guy that made her brain go straight to damsels-in-distress scenarios and her heart to happily-ever-afters? She was so not that girl. “Sure. Why not? It’s right before town actually. But I’ll give you the grand tour of Hickory, Pennsylvania. Then you can figure out what you’ll do with the other twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes of your day.”
*
It had taken him less than a day to get a solid lead on who was stalking Mathers’ daughter. Not bad. Now he just needed to survive the City Camp activities and riding lessons with taskmaster Kate long enough to get some proof.
“Your legs are flapping again, Joe,” Kate yelled from the center of the riding ring. “Heels down. One hand on the reins. You’re not plowing a field.”
The next day was more of the same. “Grip with your knees, Joe. Keep your butt stuck to the saddle.”