And avoiding grouchy, hot-eyed men, even if their kisses were unshakeable from memory.
Ah, well, best laid plans…As she danced with the girls, and swayed in Mark’s arms, and laughed at Nate’s and Lloyd’s jokes, her mind was entirely occupied with the dark man sitting at the edge of the shadows.
****
Where the hell was he going to sleep? He’d always crashed at Spider Camp because that was the center of action, but…
Dave stood with cot and sleeping bag in hand, pondering this unexpected new problem as the twins ran circles around their cots and a wriggling Daisy practiced gurgling shrieks while being diapered. Not exactly the action he was used to.
Once upon a time, they’d been a loose group of single college friends focused on fun, fish, food, and fast boats, hanging out for two weeks to forget all responsibilities. Now the camp was Domesticity Central with the hyper twins and Daisy’s baby noises, bedtime stories, teeth brushing, and diapers.
His choices were slim. Sleep at High Water with Olivia in reach? Hell, no. He wouldn’t intrude on Nate and Kay at tiny Skunk Beach, jokingly renamed the Honeymoon Suite. That left hanging with the kids or sleep alone two coves over. A separate camp would be best, considering his insomnia and nightmares, but the women would get all fussed, and he’d have to do some fast-talk lying or truthful explaining.
Okay, he’d be social, save himself feminine fussing, the walking, and give Spider Camp a shot. If that didn’t work out, he’d move his shit past Skunk Beach.
After setting up his cot and sleeping bag, he grabbed a last beer and rejoined the circle. Daisy lay sacked out on Lloyd’s chest, and the overtired twins crashed hard once Scott and Patti pinned them down and tucked them in.
Conversations slowed and quieted, revolving around fishing and plans for the morning.
Lloyd and Scott responsible fathers—so weird to witness and wonderful, brought home with the kids here for the first time. He wouldn’t be surprised if Christopher and Margie were next to start a family. Nate’s mom had been making I’d like some grandchildren noises, and, if the gleam in Pippa’s eyes while she played with Daisy was any warning of a future career shift, Chuck was doomed, too. Terry and Karen were married three years already. Mike, he had a girlfriend back home, and Rich was dating a woman fairly steady lately. Besides Dave, Mark was the only one in the unattached single category—if his open adoration of Olivia didn’t shift further.
Anger surged at the possibility of Mark being interested in Olivia beyond friendship. Which was whacked, since he liked Mark. Mark was solid, smart, and kind, and likely everything Olivia needed in a guy.
Pretty much everything you aren’t.
Enough, enough. He was sick to death of this black, acid mood. He’d hoped being here at Mohave would help, but so far, no.
One by one, his friends wandered off to bed with hushed good nights.
He slipped into his sleeping bag, the cot creaking as he stretched and exhaled a grateful sigh. He stared into the night and the bright stars, listening to the lake’s restful lapping over sand.
Damn, he’d missed this. He hadn’t been camping, fishing, or hiking since last year. The fight to live, then the struggle to heal, had massively narrowed his life to essentials. After he was healthy enough, his lame excuse was simple avoidance of every reminder of his losses.
He slapped at the whine of a mosquito. Being here was one more step to reclaiming his life, one more step toward normal.
Changes, too many changes. Not just his life, but for them all. Seemed like only yesterday, not twenty-four years ago, that he’d come here for the first time with Nate’s and Lloyd’s families. Nate, Lloyd, and he’d continued the yearly trips through college, adding Christopher, Rich, and other friends. They’d throw their haphazard camp together, ski, fish, and talk the days and nights away, and crash into sleep on sleeping bags on the ground. Each year new creature comforts crept in: cots, air mattresses, tents, fancier stoves, and more elaborate meals. Some would bring dates, and the pairing off began. Friends drifted away each year, never to return, leaving this dwindling core group. Last year had almost seen the end of their get-togethers, until Nate had rallied them.
This year, the big change. Once casual couples were parents, and if vacation were a tune, the whole key had changed and no coda could return them to those careless days.
As for his music…hell.
Dad’s voice ghosted through him. “Rome wasn’t built in a day…You can’t rush right.”
His shrink’s voice and others followed. “Give yourself a break. Give yourself time.”
Folding his arms beneath his head, he deliberately shut his eyes and focused on the delicate lapping wash of water. Normal wasn’t ever going to be again, but he could pretend.
He woke shaking in a cold sweat from the same old falling dream. Around him, everyone slept on undisturbed.
Dawn remained a couple hours off, but he rose, stripped off his T-shirt, and waded into the cool, cradling lake, floating until his heart settled and nerves stopped jumping. On sleepless nights in past years, he’d take a walk or go fishing. This year—well, walking in the dark over stony, shifting ground was a dumbass idea.
He wasn’t ready for all these changes.
Dave floated, staring at the stars, and listened to the rhythm of the dark water and the night and his heartbeat all mixing in a solemn accompaniment. A pensive melody line drifted into tentative life. He let the music play on in his mind, hopeful, and afraid to grab and lose the moment.
“Dave?” At JoAnn’s soft call, the melody vanished like a dream evaporating on waking.
He sighed and rolled to tread water. “Yeah?”
JoAnn stood at the shore, a white flowered blanket concealing Daisy in her arms. “You okay?”
“Fine. You?”
“Yes. Daisy’s hungry.”
He limped dripping from the water and grabbed his towel off his chair.
JoAnn settled into the chair besides his, adjusting Daisy in her arms. She’d nursed Daisy around him earlier, and the baby blanket modestly covered everything, but Daisy’s soft hungry sucklings and the dark drawing the space close and personal made the natural activity uncomfortably intimate.
Get a grip. JoAnn’s sweet smile is worth any embarrassment. She’s longed for that baby in her arms for years.
Regrets swarmed, envy punched, and his heart clenched. How did it feel to give the woman you love her heart’s desire?
Hell. Dave shook his head. Him jealous of Lloyd and his domestic, responsibility-bound life? He needed more sleep than he thought.
He debated between a cowardly retreat to bed or stay with JoAnn. He chose to stay.
“I’m glad you came,” JoAnn whispered.
“Me too.” And, at that moment, he was.
They sat in companionable quiet until Daisy was finished. After JoAnn and Daisy returned to bed, Dave remained, listening to the water washing the shore and waiting sleeplessly for the elusive music’s return.
When the first pale gray of dawn offered enough light, he started the coffee JoAnn had prepped last night.
Daisy woke with the blackbirds, and Lloyd dragged himself into action, bleary-eyed and hair standing on end. While Lloyd dealt with diaper and bottle, Dave poured two coffees, both black and sweet.
“You have my undying thanks.” Lloyd juggled himself, Daisy, and the bottle into a one-handed arrangement and took the cup from Dave, sighing at his first sip. “Munchkin’s a morning person, but at least she’s a happy morning person. Kinda scary how good she is. Give her a bottle, me my coffee, and we’re good.”
One by one, the rest of Spider Camp woke and joined them with sleepy faces over grateful sips of coffee and tea, and hot cocoa for the surprisingly sluggish Ryan and Sam.
The folks from High Water ambled on in, Olivia and Mark laughing quietly together.
“Good morning.” Olivia’s sweet hesitant smile was as gorgeous as yesterday.
Frustrated want flared, an
d his reply growled, rusty and sharp. “Mornin’.”
She flinched.
Way to go, idiot. Right, be more of an ass than you already have.
So no surprise when she stayed as far from him as possible, chatting and laughing with Terry and Karen, adding fuel to his shitty mood.
The women voted on pancakes and bacon for breakfast.
Desperate for distraction, Dave pushed from the chair. Cooking breakfast would let him pull his act together. “I’ll get the stove going.”
****
As Dave rose stiffly from his seat, concern twinged through Olivia despite his surly attitude. He hadn’t shaved, normal for the men embracing vacation laziness, but together with the dark circles under his eyes, he looked ragged, not lazy. Was he in pain?
Stop. None of your business. He’s a big boy and can take care of himself. You’re not a nurse anymore and definitely not his.
Patti waved him off. “Oh, take it easy and enjoy your coffee, Dave.”
JoAnn was pulling the bacon from the cooler. “We’ve got it this morning.”
Dave glared, downed his coffee, and stomped off with all the grace of a wet cat.
While he threw himself into an intense sit-up session, Olivia focused on setting up for breakfast, the conversation bouncing around the women, and the wonderful, welcome sense of belonging, so different from last year where she’d walked on eggshells every single moment lost among strangers. The grouchy Mr. Knight would not spoil her morning.
At last, Nate and Kay arrived, fresh and flushed, still in the honeymoon stage despite approaching their first anniversary. Olivia ignored the jealousy shadowing her happiness for them.
Dave joined them, wet from a dip in the lake. He slouched in the end seat, sipping at coffee, and he cracked a smile or two for the chatterbox twins who were sharing a coloring book. He glanced at Nate and Kay, his whole demeanor softening for a split second into relief and happiness, reminding her of the other side to that arrogant grouch. Reminding her of his tenderness in that Vegas hallway—
Until he caught her watching, and his sour expression slammed down.
Fine. She turned her back on Mr. Grumpy.
Breakfast was devoured amid the usual loud chatter and laughter. Across the table, Christopher was nudging his blushing wife. “Come on, you know they’ll be excited for you.”
“Oh, okay.” Adorable and sweet, Margie was the youngest of the group at twenty-six and barely looked out of her teens.
Christopher grinned and clanged his fork against his mug. “Hey, everyone, listen up. Margie has a major announcement she wants to make.”
Margie flushed a glowing red and squirmed in her seat. “It’s well, not major, but it is good, or hopeful. I mean…”
“Tell them, honey. I think it’s awesome.” Christopher curled his hand around hers and gave an encouraging squeeze.
Even grumpy Dave perked up at his end of the table.
“I kind of signed with an agent on Friday. She loved it, my book.”
Exclamations, congratulations, and surprise burst out. “A book? You write? What kind of book? Why did you keep this a secret? This is awesome.”
Christopher kissed Margie and hugged her close. “Because she’s too shy to tell you all. Margie writes these terrific cozy mystery novels. I tried to get her to tell you at supper yesterday.”
Margie gamely answered the whirlwind of questions, blushing the whole time until the group finally settled back to eating.
Chuck stabbed another helping of pancakes onto his plate. “What’s the update on the house renovations? Nate? Chris?”
“You know we finished the studios, which has made life so much easier. The exterior’s complete, so the place no longer looks ready to be condemned.” Kay chuckled. Her career as an artist and Nate’s as a photographer made those the first priority in the renovations, and the house and yard looked great in the photos Kay had shared.
“Kay did a fantastic job on the landscaping.” Nate pressed a kiss to Kay’s cheek. “Oh, that reminds me, our neighbor, Faith, baked us a big container of cookies. They’re awesome.”
“Chocolate chip, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, and shortbread. I had to hide them from Nate so he didn’t eat them all on the drive here, and I can’t take all the credit for the yard. Faith was a huge help.”
Nate nodded. “The interior is at a crawl. I swear, if I have to look at one more tile sample, my head will explode.”
Kay patted Nate. “Who knew there were so many kinds of tile? And then there’s wood and laminate and vinyl…I want tile, though. The sooner we decide on the flooring and backsplash, the sooner we can say goodbye to the avocado green appliances.”
“Toss a coin?”
“We tried that.”
Christopher nodded in grinning agreement. “Heck, can we commiserate on that process! Try finding and deciding on stuff for an almost hundred-forty-year-old house. But the plumbing, electrical, and insulation are finished, and there’s plaster on the walls again, so we’re moving in despite the mess.”
After breakfast cleanup, everyone opted for lazy chatting or reading.
Olivia joined JoAnn and Patti, enjoying the boys playing in the shallows. The rough and tumble boys were so good, sharing their beach toys with Daisy and patiently fetching everything she threw.
She choked on the surge of tears and grinding heartache.
No, no crying. No children with R.J. was a blessing, remember?
Still, the loss burned, and when JoAnn let her hold Daisy and Daisy fixed her wide blue eyes and cherub-cheeked grin on her, her heart ached more than she could bear.
“I need some iced tea.” Pinning on a smile, she handed off Daisy, plopped Sam’s hat on his head, and fled before her tears escaped.
Someday she’d have a child. She might fall in love again. Single people could adopt. When she was steadier on her feet with the bar and her new future in Florida, she’d explore her options.
Dave brooded at the table alone, hunched over his coffee mug. Bare-chested, he was all hard edges and leaner than his rugged frame should carry.
Olivia frowned. He looked beat and in discomfort. “Are you okay? Need anything while I’m up?”
His sunglasses hid his eyes, but his rumpled brows and the lines bracketing his mouth tightened. “I’m fine.”
“Pardon my saying, but you don’t look fine.” Truthfully, he looked very fine, in a hot, worn-out way, sending her heart dashing willy-nilly into memories: his hard mouth’s soft touch, the press of his solid body—
“I said I’m fine!”
His growl shot her heart to pounding, but some crazy part of her charged onwards. “You’re on vacation. You can nap if you like, you know.” She nodded at Scott, who slouched limply in his chair with hat covering his face and let loose a soft, but distinct snore.
****
Damn it, everyone needed to get off his case.
Dave glared at her, jaw clamped against saying something he’d regret and adding to his list of sins.
Olivia planted hands on lovely hips and locked an unexpected no-nonsense stare on him with those soft doe eyes.
Enough. He heaved himself from the chair and grabbed two beers from the ice chest. Keeping his back firmly toward the annoying woman, he grabbed the mooring rope, waded out to his boat, and hauled himself onboard.
Shit, shit, shit. He refused to glance back. He had enough indelible images of those brown eyes filled with hurt.
He pulled the anchor and turned the key. The engines rumbled to life. He reversed out of the cove, swung the boat around sharply, and headed south until he found one of his lonelier fishing spots.
On mental autopilot, he anchored and cast a fishing line, gritting his teeth against the echo of her classy, sexy Southern belle voice. “Are you okay? Need anything…Need anything…”
Screwed up again. He popped a beer and propped his aching leg on the other seat. Maybe coming here this year was a bad idea. He’d figured he could deal with the gang. Th
ey were his family. God knows, they’d stood by him tighter than tight over the past year.
You’d think toeing the line and doing every last thing the docs had advised would help: eating right, exercising, keeping up with the PT and shrink appointments. You get thrown from the horse; you get back on, right? You get burned; you go back into the fire.
Nope. Welcome to the world of crash and burn. Literally.
Why couldn’t she leave him be?
Oh, shut up. It’s you with the problem, not Olivia.
All she’d done was attempt to share kind concern and have a civil conversation. He was the ass and needed to apologize, for a number of things. Stomping off like that, in front of his friends—Kay and JoAnn were sure to give him well-deserved shit for his crappy behavior.
He’d run from Olivia in Vegas. Yes, getting his hands off her fast had been the right thing to do then, but not the way he’d left her in tears. Now, he was running from simple conversation and blaming her to avoid managing his own demons. He was sick to death of being an asshole, but, damn, being around Olivia drove him all sorts of crazy.
He’d been unable to keep from watching her play with the kids. She fit in great with the group. So different from last year, when she’d been all tense and prim, like some haughty runway model. No, truth…far too much like a hunted fawn.
Truth was, she was a nice woman who’d got the short end of the stick from her rat-bastard ex-husband and was doing a great job of moving on with her life. He’d been a jerk since day one of meeting her last year, taking out his issues on everyone. He’d been pissed at his instant, consuming lust for her, pissed at Olivia for letting R.J. treat her like crap, and pissed that a man could be such an unworthy bastard to a sweet, gorgeous wife. He clenched his fist. Punching R.J. would have felt damned good.
He scowled at the slack line swaying with the current. He’d even lost the mood to fish. He finished the first beer and popped the second. The heat beat over his skin. Out on the flat shimmering blue, a boat and skier flew downriver.
Love Burns Page 5