With the cliché about disturbing sleeping dogs - or was it bears? - in his head he was careful not to wake her as he moved her. He needn’t have worried, she was out cold. He picked her up, placed her on her belly on the air bed and covered her with her opened sleeping bag. He rolled his eyes at the weight of it. It was the kind they sold to serious adventure types who were going to Antarctica. The guys in the camping store must have loved dealing with her. One hour with her and they would have made enough on commission for the year. There was nothing else to do except move the bike away from the side of her tent, stick a couple of pegs in the ground so she wouldn’t blow away and leave her to it.
As he backed out of the tent a tiny little groan escaped from her lips, making him stop dead in his tracks. Her cheeks were burned from the sun, which made the freckles on her nose darken. Her golden hair had come loose from its tie and brushed across her cheek. His breath hitched. Her pink tongue flicked out to lick her lips and in her sleep she reached for a drink. When her hand settled on something, she pulled it to her. It was the tube of muscle cream. Her breathing slowed as she sank back into a deep sleep.
Charlie started to breathe again as he hastily retreated from the tent. After he’d secured it, he picked up the cooking equipment and headed for the bin. Obviously he needed to keep a closer eye on her. If there was going to be another campsite show, he didn’t want to miss it.
Laura woke in pain. Her first thought was that she had to engineer things so that Charlie didn’t dump her again and cycle off into the sun. At this rate she’d never get her interview. Her second thought involved the words bike and never again. She had no recollection of getting into her sleeping bag, well under it at least, but she was grateful that she’d managed to blow up her bed. Her belly rumbled reminding her that she never made it to dinner. Even if it was just a plate of beans.
“Oh no!” She threw herself off the mattress and out of the tent.
The stove was missing.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
She spun around in the direction of the voice, immediately regretting that she’d moved so quickly. Charlie’s face peered at her through the slit of a tiny triangular tent that looked suspiciously like a black Toblerone box. It was only tall enough to sit up in, with barely enough space for one person to lie down.
“That’s your tent?” She pointed at it as though there was something suspicious about it.
“It’s a one man tent.” He pointed at his bare chest. “One man. One tent.”
Laura bent over to peer inside. He was wedged into a sleeping bag as thin as a sheet and lying on the kind of mat people took to yoga class. And he appeared to be naked. He unzipped the flap and leered at her.
“Want to climb in and get a better look?”
“Where’s your camp light, stove, your cooking gear?” she asked before a thought hit her. “Now that I think about it, where are mine?”
He leaned up onto an elbow, making his shoulder muscle bulge.
“Now that you bring it up, I had a little clear out while you were sleeping. Got rid of the stuff you don’t need. You should ride a lot lighter today.”
Laura spun towards her tent. She stalked as best she could towards her gear. Although the bags were still there, most of her stuff was gone.
“I spent money on that gear. I needed it.”
“You needed a state of the art first aid kit? You were planning to do your own dental work, or stitch up your leg?” He waved around. “We’re in Holland. The country is the size of a postage stamp with the population of South England. If you need a dentist, we can find one. And if you need something stitched, you have me.”
“But I don’t have you, do I? We’re not exactly cycling side by side.”
She raked through her bag.
“I threw your book out too.” He told her.
Laura gritted her teeth. How was she supposed to put up her tent now?
“As for food,” the Neanderthal continued, blithely unaware of how close he was to death, “you’ll never be more than an hour from a fast food place on this trip. And seriously Laura, you brought water?”
Her eye began to twitch. She put a finger on it to stop it.
“Don’t touch my stuff again.” She infused the words with every unsaid threat she could think of.
He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“Thank you would have been enough.”
Laura grabbed her towel and toilet bag, something he’d thankfully left untouched, and headed towards the showers, painfully aware that she was walking bowlegged from the tenderness in her rear end.
“Don’t forget your magic cream,” Charlie called behind her and something new happened: both eyes began to twitch at the same time.
Laura had half expected to find Charlie gone when she got out of the shower. After all that was his M.O. – dump her and run. Instead she found him sitting on the fold-up chair she’d brought with her, scoffing a McDonald’s breakfast. There was an unopened bag beside him which drew her attention and made her mouth water. He jerked his head in its direction and Laura took that as an invitation to eat.
“Up,” she ordered when she had her hands on the bag.
“Come on, I bought you breakfast.”
“Up.”
He rolled out of the chair to sit on the grass. Laura gently lowered herself into the soft fabric seat. Bliss. Coffee and sausage muffin. She bit into it with the kind of groan she usually reserved for pure pleasure.
“We need to set some ground rules.” Charlie’s words cut through her joy and ruined the moment.
“You’re embarrassing me,” he said.
“You’ve always embarrassed me,” she told him through a mouthful of food. “First there’s your obsession with empty headed bimbos, then there’s your refusal to take anything seriously. Don’t even get me started on your juvenile sense of humour or the fact you still technically live with your parents.”
He shook her chair making her wobble precariously.
“Focus, short stuff, we’re talking about you.”
Laura wasn’t surprised that he didn’t take issue with anything she said. Who could argue with the evidence? It made it all the more maddening that she was supposed to get a serious article out of the imbecile.
“Ground rules,” he reminded her.
“Fine, rules, got it. Carry on.”
Honestly. She tuned him out as she polished off her food. At least he was talking to her, which was a step up already.
“One,” he counted off on his fingers. “I will stay near you for the rest of the trip, mainly to stop you injuring yourself, but you’ve got to stop cycling like an old person and speed up.”
Laura searched the bag for more food. Nothing. Charlie rolled his eyes, reached into his pannier and threw a chocolate bar at her.
“Two, no endless questions as we ride or I’ll leave you for good.”
“Wait a minute,” Laura protested. “We had a deal, I come with you on your stupid excuse for a holiday and you give me an interview.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to ruin my trip by badgering me all the time.”
“So when do I get my interview?”
“At the end.” He smirked at her. “If you make it.”
“And what are we supposed to talk about until then?”
“I’m kind of hoping that there will just be silence.”
“Well, what was the point of me coming with you if I don’t get to interview you until the end? I could have waited until you came back home.”
Or not, since her deadline expired before his holiday ended. Charlie shrugged.
“Not my problem. This was your plan.”
“So why did you agree to it?”
“You’re the entertainment, short stuff,” he told her as he jumped to his feet. “And just so you know, I updated my Facebook page while you were sleeping.”
He flicked his phone in her direction. The caption above the photo said: having a great time with Laura
. And there was her huge backside poking out of her tent for the world to see.
“Well,” Laura said as she stood in front of him, hands on hips, “just so you know. I’m keeping score.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Now saddle up. We leave in ten minutes.”
Charlie sauntered off in the direction of the office leaving Laura wondering what she would do to get even. Her thoughts didn’t linger long. One look at her tent reminded her she had bigger problems. How was she supposed to get it all back into the tiny little bag it came out of?
With a sigh she reached to pull up the peg nearest her.
The next two days were spent enduring an uneasy truce. Charlie was true to his word and stayed within hailing distance. He helped her to put her tent up at the campsites and then he slapped on a clean t-shirt, saluted her and disappeared into the nearest bar. That was the last she saw of him until the following day, although she heard him come back in the small hours of the morning. Thankfully, alone. The last thing she needed was to listen to Charlie and his latest bimbo getting hot and heavy in his tiny tent. She gritted her teeth. This had to stop. It was a mind numbing endurance test and she’d reached her limit. All day long her attempts at conversation were met with grunts, which did nothing to take her mind off her backside. Then she spent her evenings alone. It sucked. It had to change. She was going to make it change.
While Charlie was in the shower, Laura scanned the campsite for help. Her eyes found the two English boys she’d seen at the first camping ground. She put on her most trustworthy smile, tried not to look mental and went to say hello.
“Hi there,” she called as she approached.
“Hey, it’s you. Airbed girl.”
They seemed pleased to see her. They also seemed not to have showered since they last met. She took a step backwards.
“How’s the holiday going?” one of them asked.
Laura cast a glance towards the shower block. There was no time for chit chat.
“I need a favour, boys,” she said.
They actually leered at each other. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
“Which one of you can sabotage a bike?”
Blank looks.
“I need help to break a bike.”
“Your bike?” They pointed towards it in case she was confused.
Laura gritted her teeth and reminded herself to be patient.
“No, not my bike. My friend’s bike. I need it to be out of action.” She let out a heavy breath. “I need a day where I don’t cycle.”
“Got ya.” One of them winked at the other.
“Sore lady parts huh?” the other one said.
Laura’s jaw dropped open.
“Listen, dumb and dumber, I need help. Now who’s up for it?”
“I’ll do it,” said the floppy one.
“Good, now get a move on, he’ll be out of the shower any minute.”
The floppy guy picked up a small bag and followed her back to the tent. The bag contained a tiny tool kit.
“I’m going to mess with the gears and the chain. It won’t be an easy fix. He’ll need a shop. It should buy you a day.”
Laura’s heart fluttered. A day. No bike. Yay. Less than a minute later, the young guy was ready to leave, taking some spare bike parts with him.
“So,” he sidled up to her, “I helped you. Now what’s in it for me?”
Laura almost decked him. Instead she looked around, grabbed her folding chair and thrust it at him.
“Cool,” he grinned and waved it in the air towards his friend, who gave two thumbs up. “See you later, airbed girl.”
With that he was gone. Laura rolled her eyes then did a happy dance. She had to get it out of her system before Charlie appeared, otherwise it would be impossible to keep a straight face when he told her his bike was broken. When she stopped her happy dance her eyes rested on the two English guys. She got a double thumbs up from each of them.
“Damn it,” Charlie knelt beside his bike. “Someone’s been messing around with my bike. I can’t cycle this. I need to find a repair place.”
“Shame,” Laura said beside him.
He stood slowly. If he wasn’t mistaken the Iron Maiden was struggling to contain a grin. His eyes narrowed.
“Did you do something to my bike?”
He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.
“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “Because I know so much about bikes. Think about it Neanderthal. I need a book to put up my tent and I still can’t work the gears on my bike. Do you really think I could have messed with yours?”
“Let me see your phone.”
“What?”
She tried to look indignant; she was hiding something.
“Hand it over sweet cakes.” He took a step towards her, invading her space. “Don’t make me come and get it.”
“Fine,” she huffed and made a big deal about handing it over.
Charlie flicked through her Internet history. Nope, she hadn’t Googled how to do it either. Reluctantly, he returned the phone. She looked far too smug about the whole thing, which set off alarm bells. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about it.
“Well,” he said at last. “We can’t cycle today.”
“Oh. Shame.”
Her eyes got wider.
“Yeah, shame,” he said sarcastically.
She just blinked at him.
“I need to find a repair shop.”
He put the bike right way up.
“And then we can do something?” She sounded breathless. “Together?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that she was on her own, but she looked so eager. Like a little puppy with those huge eyes of hers.
“Fine, we can do something together.” Laura squealed, making him regret the decision as soon as it was out of his mouth. “But no talking,” he told her. “None.”
She zipped her mouth before digging around in her backpack. She produced a thick tourist guide to Holland and flicked to the region they were in.
“Oh, there’s a lot we could do,” she said excitedly. “There’s a flower market nearby, or we can make cheese, or there is a museum with a miniature town, or we can go shopping. What do you think?”
Charlie was thinking, mainly, why hadn’t he found that book at the same time as the other one and dumped them both in the bin.
“Charlie?”
“I’m not making cheese,” he growled. “And I’m not going shopping.”
“Miniature town and flower market it is then. This will be great.”
“Yeah, great.”
Laura punched him on the arm, it was like getting pummelled by a flea.
“Get a grip, Neanderthal, all I’m proposing is one day’s sightseeing. I’m not asking you to marry me.”
To his disgust he honestly couldn’t think of a comeback. Marriage was no laughing matter. In fact, he’d always figured that guys who joked about it jinxed their carefree lifestyles. And he liked his carefree lifestyle, thank you very much.
“Get ready, we leave in ten minutes,” he said.
Laura gave him an odd look before heading for the camp toilets. When she thought he wasn’t looking she grinned and punched the air. Oh, yeah, she had nothing to do with his broken bike. And he was the Queen of Holland.
“Why don’t you tell me about Afghanistan and then you can enjoy the rest of your holiday alone?”
They’d been about five minutes into their day when Charlie realised that there was no way she was going to keep her mouth shut. Thankfully the odd comment and grunt had been enough to get him through the flower market and round the model town. Laura had ooed and ahed over each miniature building and fake canal as though it was amazing. He couldn’t see it himself. Tiny buildings? So what? The real thing was all around him. What was the point in being awe struck by a doll’s house while behind you there were seventeenth century crooked houses and winding canals? He figured Laura related to the little version because,
well, she was little.
“Charlie, wake up. Let’s get this over with. You can’t possibly be enjoying this holiday. Let’s cut our losses. Give me the interview and you can have fun for the rest of it.”
She wasn’t going to let him have any peace. It was heart breaking. A complete waste of a lazy afternoon in the sun. They sat at an outdoor table belonging to one of the many cafes that had spilt onto the town square. He should have been sipping thick Dutch coffee and watching tall blond girls walk by; instead he was listening to Laura nag.
“Well?” She prodded his leg with her toe. “Why don’t you give me the interview now?”
Charlie stretched out in one of the cafe’s rattan chairs, his long legs crossed at the ankles. He lazily reached up to pull his shades down his nose, so he could look at her over the top of them.
“We made a deal.”
“Who cares about the deal?” She waved her hands around for emphasis, then clutched her belly. She looked a little green. Well, he did tell her that two huge portions of fries with mayonnaise was a bad idea.
“I care about the deal.” He pushed the shades back into place. Man it was warm. He should have been swinging in a hammock somewhere instead of listening to Laura.
“Come on Charlie, you don’t want me here anymore than I want to be here. Give me the story and then we can both get on with our lives.”
Silence.
“Seriously, you enjoy having me here that much?”
Now that was funny. There was nothing enjoyable about this. Although the first night with the tent was pretty funny. Still, it was worth all the suffering. With Laura around he could sleep. That alone was worth any amount of trouble she caused. But he definitely wasn’t going to tell her that. In his experience if you gave a woman any insight at all, it always came back to bite you in the bum.
Second Chances Boxed Set: 7 Sweet & Sexy Romances in 1 Book Page 50