by Cindi Madsen
“I told her how bad it was with Dad—told her how he’d gotten more violent, too—and she told me that she’d try to come home and talk to him, but until then, I needed to be strong. Then she just never called again.”
Emma clenched her jaw. “Wow. I want to say really horrible things about her, but then that feels mean, and she’s your mom, but…no mom should put that on her child.”
Cam shrugged. “I got over it eventually. Got through life with Dad, then I joined the army. I feel like I did a lot of good there, but it wore on me, and I felt…lost.” There. That was a good word for it without having to tell her why. “Once the property came into play, I felt like I had a purpose again.”
He looked into Emma’s eyes and realized his purpose had grown to include her and Zoey. But instead of adding stress, it made him feel like he was found again.
“I’m glad you have that. And I’m glad that you came back to Hope Springs.” She tightened her hold on him, and his heart swelled. “I feel like I’ve missed out on not knowing you better all these years.”
He was about to kiss her, but then she shot forward, yanked back her pole, and started reeling for all she was worth. The fish on her line splashed the surface of the water, sending silver droplets that matched its scales through the air.
Once Emma had reeled it in, she held it up proudly and looked at his deadly still pole. “One to zip. If you wanna go ahead and admit defeat now, I’ll accept your surrender.”
Cam pulled Emma to him and kissed her, drawing it out the way he had earlier. He dropped his fingertips to her collarbone and swept them across her skin, grinning when she practically melted against him. “The only one who’s going to be surrendering at noon is you—you’ll have to surrender your clothes, and I’ll be the one to say when you get them back, so you’d better be nice. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
He reluctantly let her go and reached for his fishing pole. “I’ve got to go to my secret spot and amp up my game.” He turned and gave her his best gentlemanly nod. “Until noon.”
“Until noon,” she echoed, and then she whistled at him as he walked away, making it hard to not turn around, scoop her into his arms, and kiss her until she forgot that they were in the middle of a competition.
Chapter Nineteen
Emma glanced from the end of her pole, to her watch, to the water, to Cam on the other side of the lake, back to her watch.
In eight minutes, the clock would strike twelve noon, and she wasn’t sure how many fish Cam had caught. She’d seen at least two, but he’d disappeared into a heavily wooded area and she’d switched spots so that he couldn’t spy on her, either. She’d caught one more since the first, and she really wanted to snag another. They’d made the bet in good fun, and she’d happily played along, but with the time ticking down and a measly two fish, her stomach decided to betray her and tie itself in knots.
Striptease? In front of Cam? She’d seen those arms, felt the firm muscles of his torso pressed against her not-so-firm muscles. He was the last guy who’d seen her naked, and since she’d had a baby since then, she couldn’t help thinking it was better for the past naked version of herself to remain frozen in his memory.
Of course, that’d mean he’d never see her naked again, and that option was a bit depressing, too, as she hoped they’d get to that part in the relationship—sooner than later, to be honest. But there was a difference between dimmed lighting and strategically placed lingerie or covers, and the sun freaking shining down like a spotlight.
Ugh, why did I agree to this stupid bet?
Six minutes and counting…
Emma slowly reeled in her line, hoping that the movement would catch a fish’s eye. Couldn’t one of them hook a sister up? Even if she was sort of setting them up for a night in the frying pan? Hadn’t they heard of taking one for the team? Sacrificing for the greater good?
At least I wore my nice underwear, just in case… She’d felt stupid putting them on, because they were hardly good for hiking—the lacy panties had drifted up the entire way, giving her a perma-wedgie. A sports bra would’ve been nice for the jolting race down the hill, too, but if the evening turned romantic, she didn’t want to risk unflattering uniboob.
Four minutes…
Now she was glad for the silly extravagance, even if she was also wishing she’d taken one of those strip aerobics classes that the quilting ladies swore by. When she’d balked, they’d looked at her like she was the ridiculous one for not learning how to strip, and now she was thinking they were right.
Her ex was right.
Everyone but her was right.
The end of her pole dipped toward the water, the jerk nearly pulling it out of her hands. She let out a squeal and fought with the fish, her heart hammering against her rib cage at three times its normal speed.
Emma attempted a calming breath, one in, and then right back out. Cam would be the one stripping, just as soon as she snagged this stubborn fish.
The line slackened, and for a couple of panicked seconds she thought she’d lost the battle. Finally she sucked it up and jerked her pole back, even though she was scared it’d only confirm her suspicions.
Instead, the fish picked up its fight.
The muscles in her arms strained as she reeled as fast as she could, keeping the line tight, and then the fish broke the surface and she swung it onto the bank. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cam making his way over. She unhooked her prize, set it next to the other two fish, and then quickly covered them and straightened in an attempt to look all calm and collected.
Cam rounded a huge sagebrush, and calm and collected flew right out the window as she took him in. There was something about the mountain background that brought out his rugged features even more, from the strong square jaw to the scruff covering it to just…him. She’d never thought she’d be so turned on by muddy pant legs and a baseball cap that looked like it’d been to hell and back.
And before their bet got pulled into it and things became more awesome or super awkward, she decided to at least complete a semibold move. She took a large step forward, ran her palm down the side of his face, and planted a kiss on his lips.
A grin spread across the rugged features she’d been admiring, and he wrapped one arm around her waist. “Just so you know, you touch the beard, I touch your butt.”
Flashing him a saucy smile, she reached up and ran her hand down it again, dragging out the gesture before brushing her fingertips across his jaw.
He kept his promise, one hand lowering to the curve of her butt. Using the solid grip, he hauled her against him and kissed her again. Then he whispered, “If this is your attempt at getting out of stripping for me, it’s a good try and all, but a bet’s a bet.”
With a laugh, she backed up and put her hands on her hips. “Well, then. Let’s see ’em.”
“One fish,” he said, lifting it out of his cooler bag, and then he slowly brought out another one.
“Two fish, red fish, blue fish,” she finished, even though he was only holding two rainbow trout so far. When he cocked an eyebrow—Cam, not the fish—she shrugged. “Hazards of reading Dr. Seuss over and over. And over. Before Zoey’s Frozen phase, she made me read that and Ten Little Monkeys until I had every word memorized. So if you pull out any monkeys, I’ll start quoting that book, too—you’ve been warned.”
Cam chuckled. “Monkeys in Wyoming. That’d be quite a trick.”
“Yes, and I’m sure Zoey would beg us to let her keep it as a pet, and let’s face it, neither one of us could probably hold up to those big blue eyes.”
“Too true. Then we’d all get monkey pox.”
“Wow, that went dark quickly,” Emma said with a laugh. “Apparently you haven’t been reading enough Dr. Seuss.”
Cam shook his head, then he shot her a look. “I think someone’s delaying the inevitable.”
She innocently batted her eyes. Let him think he’d won. Just when she was about to reach for her fish to show him she’d u
pped him by one, he pulled out another, also a rainbow trout, but big enough that the other two could fit inside it.
“Whoa! That’s huge!”
A proud grin stretched Cam’s lips. “Ready to admit defeat?”
“Pretty cocky for a guy who only caught three fish,” she said, working to put every ounce of confidence she had into her voice. “But unfortunately for you, it’s not good enough to beat me.”
His grin slid off his face. “Well, this one is so big, it should count as two.”
Emma crossed her arms. “Size doesn’t matter.”
Cam clucked his tongue. “Oh, I think we both know that’s not true.”
Biting back the urge to smile or to gasp and act scandalized at that, she lifted her chin and kept hold of her poker face. “A bet’s a bet. Let’s see your dance, soldier. I can’t wait to see your moves.”
He set down his fish, and two different kinds of flutters went through her stomach. The first because she’d pulled off the implication that she’d beat him, followed quickly by the second one, because she was about to get a show.
Cam reached for the hem of his shirt, but then his eyes narrowed on her. She swallowed and worked to keep her features in the calm mask. “Wait,” he said. “Let’s see ’em.”
Don’t crack now, she told herself, even as her blood pressure started to steadily rise. “See what?”
He strode toward her, and she automatically backed up, nearly stepping on her covered fish. Her three fish.
Cam reached down to uncover them, and she tried to block him, but he wrapped an arm around her and held her out of reach. “Emma Walker, you liar!”
“I never actually said that I had caught more than you. Just that you hadn’t beaten me and that I wanted to see you dance.”
He shook his head and curled her to him. “For that, I definitely win.”
“No, it’s a tie. I guess neither of us has to strip.”
“Wrong.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a swirl of desire through her, even as she fought the urge to run. He glanced toward the lake. “It’s a nice day for a swim, don’t you think?”
She was afraid to commit either way.
He let her go, backed up a few steps, and then grabbed his shirt by the back of the collar and stripped it off, right over the top of his head in one smooth motion. Rendered speechless, as well as motionless, all she could do was stare at the muscles. They’d had the same effect on her years ago—that night, the sight of them had caused her to be completely reckless, and she felt that same pull now.
Only she wasn’t going to be the kind of reckless that left her pregnant—she’d learned that lesson.
“What are you doing just standing there?” he asked. “Tie means we both lose…and we both win. If you strip and jump in the lake with me, I’ll settle for swimming instead of dancing.”
She stared some more, like that’d change anything. Well, and because it was hard to look away. But again, he had all that going on, and she’d given up gym time for running after a toddler. It didn’t burn nearly as many calories as it should, and add the countless boxes of mac and cheese…
“Need help?”
Digging deep, she tried to find the fearlessness she wished she had—tried to find the forward girl he’d slept with all those years ago. Faking confidence she hoped would come along for the ride once she made the first move, she slowly peeled her shirt off, two-handed, because only guys could pull off the overhead drag.
Cam’s gaze ran down her, and his Adam’s apple slowly bobbed up and down. “Damn,” he whispered, and the way he looked at her shoved her insecurities to the background.
And with real, genuine confidence rising up, it suddenly wasn’t so hard to undo the button on her jeans. Or slide them off her hips as seductively as she could, keeping her gaze locked on Cam’s the entire time.
…
Now down to only his boxers, Cam was the one staring. His mouth had gone dry some time ago, his thirst for Emma growing stronger by the second. She was quite the sight standing there in nothing but her sexy underwear, the sunlight dancing across her tempting curves and all that soft skin, the beautiful scenery surrounding them paling in comparison.
He extended a hand toward her, grinning at her when she took it.
They walked over to a large rock he decided would provide a perfect platform for diving, and then he helped her up the grooved, warm surface. Maybe he didn’t need to steady her quite as much as he did as they climbed, but the excuse to touch her soft skin was more temptation than he could handle.
A bit of her boldness seemed to be wearing off as she glanced into the blue depths of the lake.
“I got you,” he said, squeezing her hand tighter.
She sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling, and he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. How’d I get so lucky?
This trip was turning into everything he’d wanted it to be and more, and he found himself doing the one thing he’d sworn he didn’t want to do: he started making plans. Plans that involved Emma by his side, hiking, camping, and challenging each other in the best possible way.
Because he’d also wanted to feel like he’d started living again, and standing up on this rock, her hand in his, he’d never felt more alive.
He worried he was getting carried away again, but for the first time in a long time—strike that. For the first time ever, he wanted to get carried away. Simply jump, no holding back.
She glanced at him, and judging from her anxious expression, she was going to bolt. But then she blinked, resolve set in, and she said, “On three?”
He gave one sharp nod. “On three.”
As he counted down, she gripped his hand tighter, and he gripped it right back. Then they were soaring through the air, the water coming fast, and she yelled, but it was more of an excited squeal than a shout of fear.
The icy water shocked his system even more awake, and he kicked toward the surface. Emma bobbed up seconds later with a gasp, and then she broke into laughter.
“Oh my gosh, it’s cold.” She slapped the water, sending a spray right at his face. “This is all your fault.”
He swam closer. “I think this was generous of me. My giant fish beat your puny three any day.”
She shook her head, but a smile broke free. When he circled his arms around her, she reached up and ran her hand down his face again, and he took that as a sign that her butt was fair game.
He moved his hands lower and pressed her closer. “I warned you.”
“Do I look scared?” she asked.
He studied her face for a moment, taking in every feature and the droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes. Then he lowered his lips to hers. Keeping them both afloat became more challenging, so he kept the kiss short, despite how amazing her body felt against his.
They swam around for a while, eventually becoming numb to the cold, but then hunger replaced all other emotions. So they swam to shore, where they dried off the best they could and, shame that it was, put on their clothes.
Cam quickly went to work building a fire, and by the time he was done, Emma had cleaned the fish, seasoned them, and wrapped them in foil. Only proving again that she made the perfect person to bring with him on these kinds of trips.
He thought about how the past six weeks had been some of the best of his life. Once he’d gotten over the shock and started to embrace being a dad, he was surprised at how much he enjoyed it. They had a great kid, they had fun together…
He’d always thought that “other half” stuff was crap, but he could almost see it. In a way, he was a fuller person when Emma was by his side. Thinking about that and what it might mean sent a thread of panic through him, because he wasn’t sure he was ready for everything that’d come along with it, and there was a big difference between making plans and taking giant leaps.
So he shoved those serious thoughts aside and told himself to live in the moment and just enjoy being here with her.
After their l
ate lunch, Emma asked to use the satellite phone to check in on Zoey. After Quinn reported that she was happy and well—she’d jumped on every bed in the B and B, and Trigger apparently provided her with endless hours of entertainment—they set up camp, then kicked back in their canvas chairs. They talked and laughed, and basically pretended that they didn’t have a single worry or care in the world.
Before long, Emma’s nose was in a book, her legs draped over his. He busied himself tracing lines across her thighs as he halfway dozed, every muscle in his body completely relaxed.
“Cam?”
He lifted his head and peered into her big brown eyes. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for bringing me.”
“I’d rather be here with you than anyone else,” he said. And more than that, he meant it.
…
Today had been a series of bold moves, and Emma figured it was time to make one more. She unzipped the tent and stepped inside, fully aware that she smelled like lake water and smoke.
Fortunately for her, she kind of loved both of those scents.
She also loved the way the guy who came in right after her kept brushing his hand across her shoulder, her waist, her back… They’d touched more than not this afternoon, and she was quickly becoming addicted to his caresses, his smiles, and his laugh. Man, she loved his laugh. And the way he always checked on her. And basically everything about him.
After a firelight dinner, followed by enough s’mores to feed a small army, they’d snuffed out the fire and stumbled toward the tent with only the light of the moon to guide them, even though they had flashlights, just in case.
As she thought about the new territory she hoped they were headed toward, drunken butterflies swirled through her gut.
Well, the territory wasn’t exactly new, but last time they’d been under the influence, and tonight the only influence they were under was chocolate and a starlit sky. While her nerves could use a drink or two, she wanted to remember every detail of this night with perfect clarity.