“I’ll do it,” he replied, cutting her off.
She cocked her head to the side. Now, she was gobsmacked.
“You’ll do it?”
He swallowed hard as pain flashed in his eyes, then blinked, and the emotion disappeared and was replaced with that stoic expression from when she’d first seen him in the security line.
He nodded, seemingly more to himself than to her. “I’ll join you at Camp Woolwich. I’ll be your Jake.”
Overcome with relief, she grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket, pulled him down, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I promise I’m not insane.”
He smiled down at her. But the emotion didn’t reach his eyes.
“Enough PDA, Nat! Let’s go!” Leslie called as the Dix brigade followed Fish out of the airport.
She hooked her arm with Jake’s and started working out their ruse. “Okay, I haven’t said much about Jake number six. Sorry for calling him by his number, but you know what I mean.”
Jake the seventh nodded.
“All the Jakes may play to our advantage. It’s a little confusing,” she added.
“I can imagine,” he answered, still a little out of it.
She glanced out the sliding glass doors as everyone piled into the camp van. “Here’s the rundown. My grandparents are Hal and Bev Woolwich. I have five uncles. My mom is the only Woolwich daughter. My parents are divorced, and my dad lives in California.”
“Will he be coming to the camp?” Jake asked.
She shook her head. “No, my parents aren’t a-holes to each other, but they’ve been divorced since I was young and have led very separate lives. And my mom is on assignment in New Zealand. She’s a travel writer and won’t be able to attend the celebration.”
“Okay,” he answered, but he seemed conflicted, which didn’t make much sense. He had no connection to Camp Woolwich. If anyone were to go down for this little masquerade, it would be her.
She stared up at him. “Are you ready?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yes.”
They passed through the glass doors, and Jake loaded their bags into the back of the van.
So far, so good.
She poked her head into the vehicle to find all three bench seats occupied. “Les, why aren’t you sitting next to Leo?”
Marcus and Lara sat together on one bench while Leslie and Leo each sat on their own.
“I think it best if you sit by me, Natalie. I should examine your feet after your prolonged high heel exposure,” Leo said as if it were totally normal to examine somebody’s feet in the back of a van.
Jake joined her, then pinned Leo with his gaze. “I suggest you sit next to your lovely wife, Dr. Dix. You don’t need to worry about Natalie’s feet anymore.”
The man puffed up. “Why is that?”
“Because anyone who even tries to touch her baby toe will have to deal with me,” Jake answered, lowering his voice.
“But wearing high heels could worsen bunions or aggravate knee or hip pain,” Leo sputtered.
Jake turned to her. “Do you have any of those issues, Heels?”
“Heels?” Leo snapped.
“Yeah, that’s what I call her because she looks so damn good in high heels,” Jake answered with a sly twist of his lips.
Leo gasped. “But the implications are devastating.”
“Well, Heels, are your feet falling apart?” Jake asked, tossing her a little wink.
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Look at that, Dr. Dix, she’s fine. Now, kindly take the spot next to your wife so I can sit next to my—”
“Girlfriend,” she supplied. “I’ve been your girlfriend for five months and six days since we met at that happy hour in Denver, Colorado,” she added, trying to pack as much information as possible to get Jake number seven up to speed.
Everyone stared at her, except Leslie, who was focused on her phone.
Natalie patted her fake boyfriend’s arm. “But, of course, you already know all that.”
“Of course,” he parroted back, his eyes telling her to take it down a notch.
But she could hardly believe this was happening. This random man, who happened to be smoking hot and dressed to the nines, agreed to this…this…con.
That’s what it was. With his help, she’d con her family into thinking she was a normal functioning adult.
Leo took his spot on the bench next to Leslie, who continued hammering out an email, oblivious to the whole foot faceoff as Jake helped her into the van.
Her cousin shoved her phone into her purse, and her expression softened. “How’s Grandpa doing, Fish?”
The man glanced over his shoulder nervously, which was quite unlike him. “Good, all good,” he answered.
Natalie glanced between her cousin and the man she’d known her entire life. “Is there something—”
“And we’re off!” Fish called from the driver’s seat, cutting off her question as he maneuvered the grumbly old vehicle into traffic.
“Speaking of being off, Natalie. Were you laid off or completely sacked this time?” Leslie remarked with her sour expression back in place.
“How do you know about that?” Nat asked, then the answer hit her.
The old Woolwich family grapevine.
Leslie pulled out her phone. “Your mom texted Aunt Tish, who talked to her daughter-in-law, you know, Pete’s wife, Patty, and she texted my mom who texted me.”
Lit only by the light of her cell phone, Natalie could see the smug curve of Leslie’s lips.
“Another lost job, Natalie. That sucks for you,” Lara added.
“It was actually perfect timing. Natalie’s going to start freelancing,” Jake said without missing a beat.
“I am?” she asked.
“You are. Remember, you’d mentioned that,” he said with a conspiratorial lilt.
“Freelancing? Do you even know what your girlfriend does for a living?” Leslie parried.
The breath caught in Nat’s throat. She couldn’t be outed as a liar and a fraud already. They hadn’t even made it to camp yet.
“She’s an art teacher. She can run classes out of community centers, teach during the summer at camps, or cater to homeschoolers. There’s a world of possibilities for someone with her skills,” he answered as smooth as silk.
Natalie resumed her normal breathing. Jake remembered what she did, and his on-the-fly response wasn’t a bad idea at all.
She stared at her fake boyfriend. She’d never considered branching out on her own. But why should she limit herself to only working in schools? Art could be taught anywhere. She’d uncovered her love of drawing and painting at Camp Woolwich. She’d run the arts and crafts program with her grandmother every summer that she was a counselor at camp.
“Is this true, Nat?” Leslie barked.
“Yeah, thanks to Jake, a lot of things that seemed out of reach, now, don’t seem so far off.”
“Well, I could never live with that kind of instability,” Leslie huffed.
Natalie lifted her chin and schooled her features. “Well, I could never live with smelling feet all day long. So, I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree when it comes to the life I choose to live.”
Leslie stared at her, wide-eyed, and Natalie froze. Holy hell! Had she shoveled Leslie’s shit right back at her? Had she actually stood up for herself? She should be bracing for impact. Leslie was sure to sling another criticism her way, but the thrill of not allowing her witch cousin to bulldoze over her made her giddy over this tiny triumph.
“Whatever,” Leslie said and turned her attention back to her phone, like a sullen teenager.
She met Jake’s gaze, and in the dim light of an on-coming car, he tucked her hair behind her ear then leaned in. “Nice one, Heels.”
Her pulse kicked up, but this time, it wasn’t from standing up to her raging bitch of a cousin. Jake’s scent and the warmth of his breath were what made the butterflies in her belly erupt into flight. She pul
led back and met his gaze in the shadowy light as he rested his hand on her shoulder, and just like in the airport, his thumb brushed past her collarbone.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tilting her head as if some tractor beam were pulling them together when his phone pinged an incoming text, and they stilled.
“I should check that,” he said as that muted quality took hold of his features.
Jake angled his body away from her to respond to the message, and she sat back in the seat with a sinking feeling. He had a life—a life she wasn’t a part of. In her mad dash to school him on pertinent Woolwich family details, she hadn’t asked him one thing about himself, besides the part-time serial killer stuff. They could get their stories straight tonight. She sighed and stared out the window. The number of on-coming headlights diminished as Fish exited the highway and set off down the dark country road toward Woolwich Cove.
Day or night, she’d know this drive. The tires hit the gravel road leading up to the Woolwich property, and she couldn’t help but smile as the memories flooded back.
S’mores by the fire. Cannonballing off the dock as the crisp bite of the cold water shocked her system. Purple stained fingertips from gorging on wild blackberries. And…a kiss. A kiss that was both a curse and a blessing.
Fish parked the van next to the old shed, and Jake craned his head to look out the window.
“I can’t believe I’m here. It’s…” he trailed off.
She patted his hand. “Everyone feels this way the first time they see it.”
The lights from the dock and boathouse lit the darkened sloping acres of the coastal property in an ethereal glow. Dotted by clusters of trees, cabins, and the main house where her grandparents lived, the shadowy body of water surrounding the camp ebbed and flowed in hypnotizing waves.
“You kids head down to your grandparents’ place. Hal and Bev saved you some supper. I’ll bring your things to your cabins,” Fish said, busying himself with the bags.
“Please tell me that Leo and I are in one of the renovated cabins,” Leslie barked.
Fish nodded. “Oh, yes! You three happy couples each have one of the honeymoon cottages.”
“Thank God!” Leslie huffed.
The Dixtown quartet headed down the path to the main house, but she and Jake stayed behind.
His head swung back and forth, taking it all in.
“It’ll be easier to figure out the lay of the land tomorrow,” she said, but he didn’t respond.
“This place,” he murmured.
“What about it?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
The door to the main house opened, and her grandparents waved to them from the porch.
“Come on! Come on! You kids must be starving,” her grandma Bev called, waving Lara and Leslie and their husbands inside with a hug and a kiss.
This was it. The moment of truth. She brushed her pinky finger against Jake’s hand, and as if they’d been doing this for five months and six days, he laced his fingers with hers.
Morality check. While this wasn’t the original Jake she’d told everyone she was bringing, it was a Jake. Hopefully, a non-serial killer Jake who could stand-in for a few family events. She wasn’t that full of herself to think that anyone besides her cousins cared all that much about her lackluster life, but she needed this. She needed a good, solid Jake. And by some miracle, the universe seemed to have served him up on a platter.
She gave Jake’s hand a gentle squeeze as they ascended the steps to the porch. His jaw set in a hard line, he seemed nervous—which would be totally normal for anyone in his situation—but he was so at ease putting Leo in his place. Maybe it was the whole meeting the grandparents song and dance that had him on edge. Unfortunately, or perhaps, fortunately, there was no time to hem and haw. It was fake relationship go time.
She released a shaky breath. “Grandma and Grandpa, this is Jake.”
Her grandmother pulled a pair of glasses from her pocket, slid them on, and eyed her fake boyfriend. The Woolwich matriarch shared a look with her husband then pursed her lips.
“Jake, have we met before?”
5
Jake
His gaze bounced between Bev and Hal Woolwich. He was really here, and he needed to pull it together—and he needed to do it, lickity-damn-split.
It was as if a winning lottery ticket had landed in his lap, and he could not blow it. Not before he’d even gotten past the front door.
Luckily, he had a plan.
He’d play the part of Natalie’s devoted boyfriend. He’d run defense and make damn sure that the Dix cousins didn’t give her any shit and that the Dix husbands didn’t get anywhere near her feet. He’d be attentive and caring—the type of guy any grandparent would want for their beloved granddaughter. Then, once he was in their good graces, he’d subtly test the waters on the possibility of them parting ways with their land. Without them even knowing it, he’d sell them on the lucrative benefits of cashing out. He’d convinced dozens of sellers that it wasn’t the property that mattered, but how their quality of life improved once they had millions in the bank—and he’d never struck out. He’d never had a deal go south, and he wasn’t about to start now.
Nope, too much was riding on this, and these were the facts: she needed one last Jake, and he needed a way into Camp Woolwich.
It was a transaction.
A trade.
An arrangement.
Just business.
And, when this deal went through, the Woolwich family would come into some serious money.
He was doing them a favor. He was setting them up for life. He’d worked it out like a game of chess, except in his version, nobody should come out feeling like a loser. That was his magic.
He was the closer. The dealmaker.
He should be walking on cloud nine.
But what he didn’t expect was the emotional hurricane that hit him the moment he set foot in Camp Woolwich, and the memories came rushing back.
And then there was Natalie.
What would happen if she found out that he’d been tasked with obtaining the deed to Camp Woolwich even before they’d met? How would she react when she learned that he wasn’t helping her out for the sake of being a good guy but was instead taking advantage of her position in the Woolwich family?
He swallowed hard and stared at the couple in front of him. He needed to say something.
Fifteen years had passed, but he would have recognized the Woolwich’s anywhere. With piercing blue eyes and still sporting a beard, Hal looked thinner than he’d remembered, but Bev looked nearly the same. When he was a camper, she’d worn her hair in a long dark braid that snaked past her shoulder. With only the addition of a silvery streak woven through, she looked nearly identical as to how he’d remembered her.
But she couldn’t have recognized him. He was just a boy back then. He started to tell her she must be mistaken when Natalie piped up.
“This is Jake’s first visit to Woolwich Cove,” she offered, answering for him with a bright smile.
Bev Woolwich squinted and adjusted her glasses. “I’m sorry, Jake. After hosting thousands of campers over the last fifty years, every face seems to look familiar to me, dear.”
“Is this the sunrise and sunset boyfriend?” Hal asked with the hint of a smirk, then released a muffled cough.
Natalie pushed up onto her tiptoes and gave the man a kiss on the cheek. “Oh, Grandpa, don’t be like that,” she said, then frowned and surveyed the man’s face. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Right as rain,” the man answered.
“I think that it’s quite romantic,” Bev said, shifting the attention away from her husband, then surprised him by wrapping her arms around him.
Jake returned the embrace and met his fake girlfriend’s eye.
“That’s my Jake. Always the romantic,” she said with a just-go-with-it smile.
Natalie’s grandfather took in the trench and heels. “That’s an inter
esting outfit. Let me hang your jacket in the closet.”
Oh, shit!
“It’s a dress,” he and his fake girlfriend blurted out in unison.
The man frowned. “That’s a dress?”
Natalie pasted on an amped-up grin. “Boy, I’m hungry!”
Note to self. His fake girlfriend was pretty terrible at the art of deception.
“Of course, you must be starving. Come on in and join your cousins! We’ve got pizza and beer in the kitchen,” Bev said, hooking her arm with Natalie’s and leading her into the main house while he hung back and walked next to Hal.
Rustic furniture and the scent of pizza woven in with a fire burning in the fireplace made for a cozy setting. Oil paintings and framed photographs blanketed the walls. He stared at image after image of groups of campers, arms slung around each other until one picture caught his eye, and he froze.
It was…him.
There he was, in black and white, standing with a group of campers. He recalled that day, lining up for the all-camp picture as Hal climbed a ladder to take the photograph.
“You found Nat,” the man said, stifling a cough then coming to stand next to him.
“I did?” he asked.
Hal tapped the photo, pointing out a young girl with dark hair. “She’s right there. That was her first year as a teen camper. The year our little Nat moved up to be with the big kids.”
Jake nodded, unable to speak. He hadn’t put it together until this moment.
Of course, she would have attended camp here, and that meant they’d been campers at the same time.
But he couldn’t recall meeting her.
He’d kept to himself that summer. Thirteen had been an intense age. He’d grown nearly six inches in one year and woke up bright and early every damn day with morning wood. He didn’t hang out with the other teen boys doing arts and crafts or playing pickup basketball. Instead, he’d hiked over to an abandoned lighthouse. Supposedly, the home of the Kiss Keeper legend, but for him, it was a place to think and daydream back when he’d wanted to be a marine biologist or a park ranger. He’d even contemplated opening a camp of his own.
Back when he could afford to have silly, childish dreams before the hard punch of reality hit him square in the gut.
The Kiss Keeper Page 7
