Happy Campers

by Vanessa Hart

  "It's embarrassing, Gray. Please don't ask."

  "No fair. I told you my story." He flashed her an exaggerated smile of eagerness.

  She laughed in spite of the painful memories. "Oh, all right. Josh and I were engaged for two years. We met at the junior college in Lawrenceville. He was a student in a creative writing class I taught."

  "You're a teacher?"

  She nodded. "Part time." Not wanting to discuss her writer's block, she omitted telling him about her career as a novelist. "Anyway, we set the date, I rented the dress, reserved the chapel and minister. I tried to keep it simple and inexpensive after the extravaganza of Kat and Rob's wedding."

  "I have to interrupt. You rented your bridal gown? Can you do that?"

  "Sure. Just like you rent a tux. And it's much cheaper, too. As I said, I didn't want a big expensive bash like Kat's."

  "But how can you keep it simple and inexpensive?"

  "Lots of ways. I did my research, believe me. I found out I could save money by booking a Friday evening in July, instead of the popular May or June Saturdays. I ordered a sheet cake to serve at the reception, with a small traditional wedding cake for the photo shoot. And I had a photographer friend who owed me a favor and cut me a deal for the pictures."

  "How big a reception had you planned?"

  "About a hundred people. But I saved money there, too, by hiring a disk jockey instead of musicians, and by serving a chicken pasta dish instead of the expensive entrees. Also, I had no liquor except for champagne. Liquor can be one of your big ticket items at a reception."

  "You're a very resourceful lady. I wish Myra had talked to you a few months ago."

  "There are dozens of ways to save money..."

  "I wasn't thinking about the expense as much as the time. She's running herself ragged making arrangements." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. Tell me what happened to ruin your wedding."

  "Josh invited me to meet him for lunch in Gwinnett Mall, I assumed so we could shop for our rings. Instead, to my utter shock and humiliation, it was to introduce me to his bride."

  "Geez! He'd already married her?" His eyes widened.

  "Afraid so. They eloped."

  "The guy married someone else without breaking up with you?"

  "Sordid, isn't it?"

  "Had he been seeing her the whole time?"

  She laughed at that. "No. That's what made it so painful. He had only known her a couple of weeks. But he claims he just knew. She was the one for him, his soul mate. All that time he kept dragging his feet about a wedding date, I thought he had a classic case of commitment phobia. Instead I found out it was just me. I wasn't the bride he wanted."

  He squinted his eyes, staring at her intently. "You aren't going to cry, are you?"

  No matter how close to tears she may have been, seeing his alarmed expression sent her into laughter, the kind of laughter that left her weak and refreshed.

  Cleansed.

  "No," she managed, wiping her eyes, "I won't cry. Gosh this feels good! Thanks, Gray."

  He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

  "This is the first time I've been able to laugh about Josh dumping me. I must be recovering. You think?" She giggled again at his serious expression.

  His eyelids lowered to half-mast as he leaned toward her. "I think you're not going to thank me for this."

  Her breath froze in her windpipe. The remnants of laughter vanished as her traitorous body leaned into his. Pulled by his warmth, his masculine scent, she gave no thought to fiancées or weddings or why she shouldn't surrender to her powerful attraction to this man.

  His breath warmed her face as he closed the distance between them. Threading his fingers through her hair, he cupped her cheek, his gentle touch igniting her flesh. She could no more tell him to stop than she could fly across the lake. Stifling a sigh, she closed her eyes as he covered her mouth with his.

  Chapter Four

  The touch of Leslie's lips against his delivered a knock-out punch, reeling him into outer space. He tasted, sampled. She opened her mouth to him and his nibbling turned into a feast. He slipped his tongue between her delicious lips, delving inside. His hands itched to touch her, to get her naked, to bury himself inside her. Hot desire arrowed to his groin. He was rock-solid hard in an instant.

  It wasn't supposed to be like this. He intended the quick sample of her buttery soft lips to cure him of his curiosity about her, end his adolescent-ish infatuation. Instead, he panted like a thirsty dog, and his hand groped. He caressed one of her breasts, so soft, yet firm. His thumb grazed her nipple and she moaned.

  Pushing her to her back, he ground his erection into her thigh, begging for relief. Instead of recoiling, Leslie shoved her fingers into his hair, pushing his head to her hardened, aroused nipple. He tasted her through the thin fabric of her shirt, sucking and nibbling. It wasn't enough. He needed her flesh in his mouth.

  What had begun as a kiss of curiosity turned into a burning need to have her. Now. He ached to touch more of her. She opened her legs to him, inviting him to lie intimately . God, she felt wonderful, even fully dressed. She'd be heaven in the nude. He reached for her waistband.

  "Gray, please stop."

  With pained reluctance, he pulled back. They both began talking at once.

  "That shouldn't have happened..."

  "...that was a mistake."

  "I'm sorry..."

  "...it won't happen again."

  "I don't know what possessed me..."

  Darkness made Leslie's face difficult to read. But not her mood. She pushed herself up from the dock, then stomped across the wooden decking to the bank. She spun around to face him, crossing her arms over her heaving chest.

  "Stay away from me, Gray."

  "I apologized. What more can I say?"

  She exhaled a long, shaky breath. "I won't be a last fling before you get married."

  The mixture of hurt and condemnation in her voice pierced through him. He scrubbed his face with both hands. "Is that what you think?"

  "You're engaged to marry a woman in two weeks and you go horizontal with me. Duh."

  "I've never..." He stopped. How could he explain what he didn't understand? His desire to kiss her had consumed him, suppressing all reason or judgment. Would she believe that he'd never done anything so outrageously impulsive? "I said I'm sorry. Please, just forget it happened." As if he could.

  She raised her chin. "I will. And you'd better forget it, too, buster. I won't be a ... a..." fisting her hands, she growled, "a home wrecker!"

  She stomped off toward the darkened path. Remembering he held the flashlight, Gray sprinted to catch her, struggling to ignore his crippling hard-on. "Wait up. I have the light."

  She ignored him.

  "Leslie, please. You could trip on a tree root and break an ankle or something. Be reasonable."

  Her abrupt stop hurled him into her back. He grabbed her arm to keep her from tumbling nose-first into the pine-needled path. She jerked free of his hold as if jolted by an electric shock. Curiously, he had imagined just such a tingle. Static electricity from low humidity. Yeah, that was it.

  "Don't."

  He didn't blame her for being prickly. But, damn, she was overreacting. She'd hardly resisted his kiss. He'd apologized repeatedly. What else could he do? He shoved the flashlight at her. "Take this."

  She opened her fisted hand, slowly wrapping her fingers around the Mag-lite. "You want me to lead the way?"

  "No. I want you to take it and go. I'll be up later."

  "But how will you see?"

  Shrugging, he took a step back, then turned toward the lake. "Don't worry about it."

  He'd been raised to be protective of women, no matter how chauvinistic or politically incorrect that seemed. He wouldn't allow Leslie to hike through the woods in darkness. Although he'd rather escort her back to camp, he knew she was in no mood for his company. Besides, he needed to come to terms with the churn of emotions ripping through him like a cyclone.
>
  And he needed to jump in the lake . Maybe that would cure his hard-on.

  * * * *

  Although darkness hovered over Lake Helen Campground, Leslie sensed it was early morning. As quietly as she could, she stepped down from the over-the-cab bunk, then stowed the ladder atop the mattress, careful not to disturb her slumbering sister, who lay twisted in a sheet on the sofa. Dressing in the dark, she eased open the door then stepped outside to finish tucking in her camp shirt and tying her hiking shoes. She shoved her floppy hat onto her head.

  The heavy cloud cover held back the promise of sunrise. Checking her watch, Leslie confirmed her suspicion about the time. At ten minutes past five no noises disturbed the serenity of the park.. In spite of her resolve to banish all thoughts of Gray, she searched the shadows of site twelve for signs of life.

  She inhaled a deep breath of fresh pine and damp earth, then headed down the gravel road. Still too dark to chance the wooded hiking trail, she intended to walk the loops within the campground and explore the other park roads. She'd walk until sunrise, then walk some more. She'd walk until she could make sense of what had happened last night with Gray.

  Consumed with anger, she had struck out at him when in truth she blamed herself. From the moment she'd met the guy, she'd been under his spell. She couldn't remember ever having such an instant and overwhelming reaction to any man. Flattered that he felt at least some attraction toward her, she had allowed herself to give in to the temptation of his kiss. She knew better. She had learned her lesson about men the hard way.

  Instead of her usual thoughts about Josh, she suffered a new, different kind of hurt. Gray's faithlessness to his bride-to-be gnawed at her, along with the guilty knowledge of her own role. The irony didn't escape her. In less than a year she had gone from betrayed bride to other woman. In either scenario she played the part of loser.

  She replayed the scene at the lake a dozen times, rehearsing what she would say next time she had to face Gray. Sometimes she would apologize for overreacting. Sometimes she ranted at him further for forsaking his fiancée. In either case, she knew confronting him was inevitable. She only hoped she could handle future encounters with dignity.

  She hiked long after the sun rose over the towering pines and nearby hills, beyond the time when her appetite demanded breakfast. Kat would wonder where she was, if her sister had rolled out of bed yet. But Leslie passed the road leading back to the camping area and kept on walking.

  * * * *

  "Geez! I overslept."

  Gray looked at the digital clock recessed in the bedside cabinet and cursed. After finishing his murder mystery, he'd turned out the light and slipped into bed, eager to escape into dreamless slumber. Instead he'd lain tormented by too many unanswered questions, puzzles that had nothing to do with the book he'd read.

  He stretched lazily, yawning, reminding himself he wasn't on a schedule. It was Sunday. He was on vacation. Furthermore, today was his birthday. Too bad he didn't feel like celebrating. He collected his scattered thoughts, put them on hold, then went through the motions of getting up. After choking down the requisite one third cup of bran cereal and skim milk, he dressed, then headed outdoors.

  Before losing his nerve, he marched over to site thirteen. Just as he poised his fist to knock, the door swung open. Kat swayed, then leaned against the door, greeting him with a smile that bordered on a grimace.

  "Hi, Gray." She stepped down from the motorhome, then collapsed into the vinyl lounge chair.

  He detected the sour odor of sickness on her breath. "Kat? Are you ill?"

  She nodded. "I seem to have an upset stomach this morning. Have a seat."

  He dropped into the webbed lawn chair. "Gee, I hope it wasn't my cooking."

  "No. I was a bit queasy yesterday morning, too."

  He rubbed the stubble along his jawline and grinned. "Well, now, that sounds like morning sickness."

  Her pale face crimsoned. "The thought crossed my mind."

  "This is hardly my area of expertise," he said, holding up his palms. "Where's your sister?"

  "I have no idea. She's been gone for hours."

  He pushed up from the chair, ignoring the stab of disappointment. "Wait here. I do have a safe remedy for the nausea."

  "You do?"

  "Yes. Mint tea. I used to make it for my mom when she was going through chemo. Sometimes it was all she could tolerate."

  "Mint tea? Sounds great. I'll put on the tea kettle."

  "Just relax. I'll do it, then it can be heating while I dig out the tea."

  "Thanks, Gray," she murmured, as she settled back and closed her eyes.

  When he returned after several minutes with the tin of tea, he thought Kat had fallen asleep. Then she opened her eyes and smiled. "Leslie told me about your engagement. Your bride is a lucky woman."

  He hesitated. "Well, I'm a lucky man."

  "Ah," she sighed. "Spoken like a man in love."

  He ignored that. Pulling open the motorhome door, he said, "Let me check the water."

  Inside the small camper he switched off the burner under the whistling tea kettle, then poured boiling water over the tea bag which he dangled into a mug he'd found over the sink. The scent of peppermint drifted from the mug as he carried it outside.

  "Careful. It's hot."

  Kat took the mug, cradled it in both hands, then ventured a sip. "Hmm. Just inhaling this makes me feel better."

  "Good. I'll leave the tin here so you can make more if you need it."

  "Thanks, again." She peered at him over the rim of the mug. "Too bad you're engaged. I had hopes of fixing you up with my sister. She deserves a sweet guy like you."

  He cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn't notice the guilty flush staining his face. "Leslie's a terrific lady. I can't imagine her having trouble attracting men."

  "She's gun shy. Did she tell you about Josh the Jerk?"

  He chuckled at the nickname. "Yep. She told me."

  "It really shook her self-confidence."

  "He broke her heart." Why the sudden rush of anger? This wasn't his business and he didn't even know the guy.

  Kat sipped the tea, then nodded. "She believes she's somehow lacking, and it worries me. It's been almost a year, time to move on. I want to help her. You know?"

  "I understand you want to help, but it's really up to her."

  "This sister retreat was my idea, but I don't think it's working. I had hoped she'd open up to me, talk it out."

  "Just because you love Leslie doesn't make you responsible for her."

  "I guess it's guilt. She's always seen herself in my shadow. But it wasn't like that. We're just different." She lifted her hair away from her neck, twisting it into a knot. "I was the cheerleader and homecoming queen, she was editor of the school newspaper. I may have had the popularity, but she had the brains. Do you have any idea how gifted Leslie is?"

  Before he could form an answer, he heard the crunch of gravel, saw the lopsided khaki hat. The lithe, athletic body with just enough feminine curves stepped forward. Leslie frowned when she saw him. At least she didn't run in the opposite direction.

  "Speak of the devil," Kat murmured. "I was just talking about you."

  Leslie lifted her eyebrows. "Oh?"

  "I think I'll leave you two to your sister chat."

  "Sister chat?" Leslie's head swiveled between him and Kat.

  He nodded to Kat. "Your sister isn't feeling well this morning."

  "Oh, no, you don't. We need to talk, Gray Webster. Now."

  "I agree." Funny how his insides tightened just from her brown-eyed scowl. No matter how determined he'd been, forgetting their kiss was a lost cause. He'd bet his next motorhome payment she shared his turmoil. "But don't you want to talk to your sister first?"

  Kat waved them away. "I really don't feel like company now. Just take your arguing someplace else, please."

  Leslie wrapped her arms beneath her firm, pointed tits, drawing his attention where it had no business. "We aren't ar
guing, Kat."

  "If you say so."

  "Walk with me," Gray suggested, pulling his gaze from the twin peaks above her folded arms.

  Wordlessly Leslie marched beside him down the gravel road toward the comfort station. Despite his efforts to engage her in a leisurely walk, Gray had to increase his pace to keep up. Frustrated and puzzled by Leslie's antagonism, he stopped in the middle of the road and threw up his hands in defeat.

  "You said you wanted to talk."

  She spun toward him, having taken a dozen steps beyond where he stood. "You said walk."

  "Well, yes, so we could talk." He shrugged. "What's on your mind?"

  "Last night."

  Join the club, he thought, but said nothing. She chewed at her lower lip, dropping her gaze to her dusty hiking boots.

  "I need to apologize."

  "Why?"

  "I reacted poorly. You were no more to blame than I. I don't have to point out that I was a willing participant in the, um, kiss."

  "No apology necessary. We agreed to forget about last night."

  She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Did you?"

  "Not for a minute." A wry grin slipped past his lips. "And you?"

  She shook her head, then looked away. "I'm not proud of kissing a man engaged to another woman. Hell, we did a lot more than kissing. I don't understand why I lost control like that."

  "That makes two of us." Inhaling a deep breath, he shook his head. "You won't believe this but I never did anything to betray Myra before. I'd never even been tempted."

  She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "So, kissing me was an aberration, a freak lapse that won't happen again."

  "I won't lie to you, Leslie. I'd kiss you right now if I thought you'd welcome it. If you think this makes me a rotten bridegroom, you're right. I've thought this over--hell, I've thought of nothing else--and I know I have to be fair to Myra."

  Frown lines creased her forehead. "What are you saying?"

  "If my behavior is some subconscious message that I'm not ready for marriage, then Myra needs to know, pronto."

  "Oh, Gray." Leslie met his gaze, her doe eyes pleading. "Don't do anything rash. I've been on the receiving end of that kind of news. I know how it feels to have your dreams ripped apart just weeks before the wedding."