by Kara Kelley
“I bet. We’ll come, Ads. Steven and I will book a flight tonight.”
“You have so much work though. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Nonsense! Our girl needs us, and besides, I’m married to the boss. I can delegate.”
Addi laughed. “I’ve seen how that goes. You ask someone to do something you normally do, and you break out in hives and end up doing it yourself. You’re a bigger control freak than I am.”
“Honey, no one, and I mean no one, is a bigger control freak than you.”
I know one person who is.
Addi heard Steven in the background agreeing, and then Daniel start to yell about the edited story.
“Tell him he’s not getting my macaroni salad for the Labor Day party if he keeps this up.”
She heard Steven clearly as she was suddenly on speaker. “How quickly you two forget who the boss is here.”
“Pfft. You may own this magazine but I run it.”
“I’m creative. We are organized in our own way, right, Addi?”
“Leave me out of this!”
“He might not be alive for Labor Day,” Daniel added, sounding aggravated. “He’s lucky he found the story though.”
“Thank goodness!”
“Now we can come without me needing meds.”
She took a big breath and got serious again. “I’m not alone here, guys. You don’t have to worry.”
“Oh?” Steven’s ‘oh’ was not simple curiosity, it was high-pitched, greedy for details, and accusing, as if he knew the person at the camp was a man and a helluva hot one at that. Her skin tingled.
“He’s Uncle Ray’s friend, Steven, relax.” She knew he’d assume the friend was Uncle Ray’s age and let it go. For now.
“I’m glad. I hated the thought of you stuck there for months alone.”
“What? Months? Why would I be here for months?”
“Oh, shit.” Daniel and Steven started bickering, but Addi ignored everything except the pounding of her heart and Steven’s slip.
“Your uncle’s lawyer contacted me yesterday to make some arrangements from Ray’s will.” He swore. “I thought you’d know by now.”
“What the hell is going on, Steven?”
“Can you pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
“No.”
He blew out a breath. “Well, I only know my part. I had to make sure you had the time off for taking care of the will business. Your uncle wanted it arranged that you could work mostly from the camp after he died—at least for three months. Of course, I said yes. I know how you felt about him and I’d do anything for you.”
“Three months? Most of my pieces require travel! How the hell am I supposed to pay my bills? And why?”
“He arranged that too. Your paycheck is covered for three months, whether or not you get anything done. I’ll get someone from the university to intern while you’re away. As for why, I have no clue. “
“Oh.” She scratched her head. What was her uncle up to? How could he afford to do that when Drew said he was broke? Was he broke? Was Drew lying or did Uncle Ray have something stashed away?
“Hon? We gotta run, but we’ll come for the funeral and stay the weekend. Steven never lets me work weekends anyway.”
“The deal is, he works a weekend, I delete Outlander off the DVR.” Steven grunted. “He’s a bully, that one. I ought to fire him.”
“You threaten that daily, Steven,” Addi said on a chuckle. “We all know you’ll never follow through.”
“Because I’m the real brains of this operation,” Daniel countered smugly. “Take care, hon. We’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks, guys. I can’t wait to see you.”
And when they ended their call, she looped around the cabins and headed back to the office with a heavy heart, remembering the lawyer telling her about the letter in the desk. She hadn’t seen it, but at the time, she hadn’t been looking for it.
The office was covered in footprints from both her and Drew now, and looked awful. She knew her focus on the dirt was more to avoid the letter in the desk. She just couldn’t face it yet.
She got the bucket and brush out of the closet and started scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees. She couldn’t stop even after she’d scoured and dusted everything. She used furniture polish on every wood surface besides the floor and then began organizing files, ignoring her hands cracking from the harsh floor cleaner.
She was sitting on the floor in the dark holding the letter in her lap surrounded by piles of folders when Drew barged through the doors.
“Addi?” He sounded frantic. “Where the hell are you?”
“I’m here,” she said, her voice rough and scratchy from lack of use, dust, and the buildup of emotion. He stumbled into the office, almost tripping over her.
“Jesus, baby girl, I’ve been combing the goddamned forest for hours looking for you.”
She looked at him, her eyes used to the dark room. His eyes fell to the letter in her lap as soon as he clicked on the little desk lamp.
“I’m sorry I missed our s’mores date.”
“Have you read it?” he asked, his voice gentler now and filled with a different kind of concern. She shook her head. He looked around the room. “You clean when you’re upset?”
She nodded.
“Remind me to piss you off next time you’re near my trailer,” he said in an attempt at humor that fell flat. He sat on the floor across from her. She wondered how such a big man could fold his legs like that.
“Have you read yours?”
It was his turn to nod silently.
“Was it hard?” She stared at the envelope with her name scrawled in her uncle’s messy handwriting. “Reading the last words he’ll ever have for you?”
“Hard as hell, babe.” His hand touched her knee but she didn’t look up.
“I can’t do it yet. The lawyer is going to be calling soon after Uncle Ray’s funeral and I can’t even read the letter.” The breath she gathered into her lungs was shaky. “How the hell am I supposed to handle all this shit?”
“It’s okay, there’s still time. And you’re strong, Addi.”
“Time?” She said the word as if it was in a foreign language. “I’ve been flirting and screwing around with you like I’m still some carefree teenager. It’s wrong. My uncle just died and all I’m thinking about is how hot you are, how wet you make me, and how badly I want you to spank me, fuck me, and be my daddy dom for real. I’m the worst person in the world.” Tears started halfway through her speech, but she ignored them. “I’m not strong, but I’m fucking great at avoidance.”
“Baby girl.” His words matched the sympathy on his face. “You were never some carefree teenager and there’s no right way of dealing with any of this. I’m not innocent either, but who says we can’t grieve together in whatever way works for us?”
She was his way of grieving? Her chest ached with the pain of a thousand wrecking balls landing on it. Here she thought it was just her, but she was no more than a distraction for him too. Just like the last time, this wasn’t real. And, God, that stung as if he’d slapped her. She stood, hugged the letter to her chest, and walked to the door. It was no different than when they were sixteen. He was using her then, and he was using her now.
“Don’t follow me,” she said.
He didn’t, thankfully, and she made it back to her cabin without issue. She felt nothing but angry at herself as she tossed the letter on her nightstand. This was bullshit. She needed to sit in her cabin alone and think, but wanted to go out and forget. Bury her emotions about her uncle, her messed-up childhood, and the daddy she wanted so badly it hurt, but her body ached from the work she’d done that day. Scrubbing floors on her hands and knees wasn’t something she was used to.
She filled the tub with water and a fragrant bath bomb. She stripped, tossing her filthy summer dress in the corner and stepped into the deliciously soothing water. It was so hot it stung but she sank into it regardless of t
he tensing of her stomach muscles and burning of her skin. She hoped it would burn away the wrong she’d done.
She scrubbed herself quickly, shaved, and paused, staring at the hair on her pussy. She chewed her lip and swiftly ran the razor over it until it was bare. She ran her hand over the smooth skin and slid under the water until her nose was the only thing above the hot, mollifying liquid.
She thought of her time with Drew, tried to remember anything that happened between them that indicated it wasn’t real. She couldn’t think of a single thing. It was time she confront him. She needed to know. What the hell he’d been doing then and what the hell he was doing now.
Addi bolted straight up out of the bathtub, not caring that water splashed onto the floor. Determined and wanting out of the confined space of her cabin, she dried off and quickly cleaned the mess.
Pulling on a cotton skirt and blouse with buttons up the front, she walked out into the chilly dampness of night. It had been getting cooler after dusk as they were in August, but it was still warm during the day. The ground thumped hollowly as she made her way through the pines. She should have grabbed a flashlight, but the moon was almost full and cast a little glow through the scattered treetops and cabins helping her eyes adjust somewhat.
Addi wandered with her head down, keeping her eyes on roots and rocks, until the smell of a campfire made her look up. The glow of it through the trees in the distance pulled her.
As she walked closer, she could see the fire dancing and hear it crackle. The smoky air was as intoxicating as cologne. The scent was as much a part of Drew as his intense blue eyes.
Faint music started. A sweet melody from an acoustic guitar strummed through the cool, heavy air. Drew, sitting on a bench made from a cut log, had a guitar propped on his lap. His head was low, his hair curling at the ends around an old flannel long-sleeved shirt hiding his tattoos. She edged closer, not wanting to alert him of her presence, but too mesmerized to leave.
His voice entwined with a melody she recognized. It was old, one of those hair bands from the eighties that she remembered he liked as a teen. Poison. As he got to the chorus, he looked up at her.
Every rose has its thorn.
Standing across from him while the hot, dancing flames flickered shadows across his face, her heart pounded. His eyes, flashing in the light, blazed blue heat into hers. There was fluttering in every pulse point as she sat, sliding back into a dew-dampened Muskoka chair.
Feelings flooded her, making her want to jump through the flames and run to him. Teenage-crush feelings were strong and as he changed the song to one he’d sung for her way back then, she felt all those early hormone-driven emotions as if they were new. ‘I Remember You,’ by Skid Row.
And she did. She remembered.
Chapter Ten
Drew
Drew plucked the chords of his guitar, singing softly, watching the girl who was once his, the song he sang, once theirs. The melody flowed from the deepest parts of him—he needed to remember, needed her to remember them too.
“Remember yesterday, walking hand in hand…”
He’d sworn he’d never let anyone in his heart again, but Addi had never left and she’d taken up every inch of space inside it. He’d promised himself he’d never hurt another good girl like he’d hurt Addi. But here she was, back in his life, and it had taken every bit of strength inside him to stay away from her earlier.
He’d wanted to hold her, protect her, take her inside him where nothing could hurt her, but more than anything he wanted to bury himself in her… deep inside her soft warmth… and stroke the place within her that would make her call out his name.
God, she was so sweet and beautiful, always, but especially in the firelight among nature. He looked at the strings of the guitar again, breaking their intense stare, and finished the song. There was silence after. Just the sound of snapping firewood, crickets, and tree frogs from the marsh.
He glanced up, wondering if he’d imagined her. But there she was, her hair so dark it was almost black, shimmering in the light. And her eyes, wide, innocent and in awe of him, squeezed his chest. She trusted him. She needed him. But how could he possibly be what she both needed and deserved?
He dropped the guitar. It thrummed hauntingly as it landed. He’d have left, let the lawyer deal with everything, and protected her by being gone, but dammit! Ray had made him promise. And fuck! Ray knew—he knew everything about Drew and his past. He knew about Drew’s feelings for Addi. How the fuck could Ray ask that?
How could anyone trust him with a woman like Addi?
Drew lowered his head into his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. Maybe this was his punishment. Maybe being everything she needed now to get her through Ray’s death was karma. He’d survived before. He’d fallen in love with her, but he’d taken care of her then, too. It had killed him to walk away, killed her, but he’d have done it all over to protect her, and he’d do it again now—only this time she needed protection from him as well.
He’d be there for her. But no way would he allow her to fall for him again. No fucking way. He’d have to show her she wanted nothing to do with Drew Fitzer as a lover. Hell. He’d have to be an asshole. He was good at that, but with her it wouldn’t be easy. God, the way she looked at him tore him up. That trust and vulnerability—those melted dark chocolate eyes.
Drew stood, his long legs holding him steady as he picked up his coat—a plaid jacket he used for working around the camp when it was chilly—and carried it to her. She held his eyes and stood so he could put it on her. They remained silent as he walked her back through the forest. Would they both wonder if this was a dream in the morning? He caught her when she tripped over a stump, and the force swung her around to face him, so he pulled her against his chest. Her breath on his skin was intoxicating.
“It was beautiful.” Her words were barely audible so he pretended he hadn’t heard them. He turned her back around and started walking again. If he spoke, she’d hear emotion in his voice. If he spoke, she’d turn to face him again. If he spoke, he’d tell her that the song was hers—theirs—he’d tell her he loved her.
The crickets still chirped and frogs still sang and it soothed him. It was the music he fell asleep to nightly. He wondered if it would lull her too. How much had she changed? Her hair shined like dark brown silk and her face, although carrying visible stress, was still a golden honey color from her mother’s indigenous heritage. Addi’s almond-shaped eyes flickered to his.
And still neither spoke.
The moon shimmered in those pensive eyes and he knew part of the shine was emotion she refused to unleash. She needed to cry again, but she’d always been so determined to show the world strength and control—she held onto it like armor. How could he show her there was just as much strength in giving in, shedding tears and sharing her vulnerability?
He opened the cabin door and she put a hand on his chest. He almost moaned at her touch. Light spilled out of the door and her eyes were pleading. “I’m sorry for what I said in the office. I should have known better.” Her eyes lowered to the deck. “I feel a connection to you because of Ray, because of this camp, and our past, but we’re nothing but strangers.” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m a good distraction. And Ray asked. And well, I needed something, too.”
“What?” His voice was sharp. “Addianna.” Her name both scolded and scalded from his tongue. “Don’t.” His jaw ticked and he pointed a long finger at her.
“Don’t what? Admit the truth?” She looked away, blowing out. “I know this isn’t real. I know you’re being nice because Uncle Ray asked you to, and because it’s easy, but I need some reality to keep me on the ground. And that reality is, outside of this situation, I’m not good enough for you. You’re gorgeous and strong and well, I’m just me.” She looked down at herself.
“Jesus!” He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “Get your ass in that cabin, little girl.” Her not good enough for him? The idea was so ass-backwards h
e snorted, clenching his hands tightly to keep from shaking some sense into her.
Her eyes widened with a start and she stood frozen to the spot. Couldn’t she see how he struggled not to rip her clothes off and plant himself deep inside her lush body? He needed to show her, first how she turned him to fucking lava and then why she should stay the hell away from him.
“Baby girl, you’d better move it. When Daddy tells you something, you damn well do it.”
She swallowed whatever was on the tip of her tongue and spun, pushing the door open wider. He followed swiftly, making her scramble with a sharp swat to her ass.
When she turned back, mouth agape from his swat, he reached for her, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, and pushed her with his body against the wall. His eyes went to her mouth. God, he needed to taste her again. Her mouth closed, leaving nothing but a slit between her full lips. He bit the corner of his mouth, trying to hold back but when her tongue darted out to wet those slightly parted lips, he dove for her.
The feel of her lips, so soft and pliable, undid him. The kiss would never be enough. He needed more, but damn, he would take his time with her.
He took her hands from his chest and bound her wrists with one hand, pulling them above her head.
“Just you is exactly what I want,” he whispered, leaning down to nuzzle the base of her neck with his nose. He breathed in her scent. “You’re intoxicating.” His mouth closed over her neck and his teeth scraped her collarbone, making her arch toward him before his tongue soothed and she relaxed.
“Those clothes are coming off,” he said in a raspy whisper, pulling her off the wall and releasing her hands. “Unbutton your shirt.” She blinked at his demand, possibly weighing her options. He took a step toward her and she went for the top button. He took her hands.
“You hesitated.” He turned her and put her hands against the wall. “Don’t move unless I give you permission.” She nodded and he smiled behind her back.