by Kait Nolan
Audrey giggled.
He continued to talk about all the different activities, ranking the stuff she really needed to try while she was here. And it was fun, sitting here with him, talking about camp, and flirting. She was pretty sure this was flirting. He told more stories about his summers at Camp Firefly Falls, entertaining her with various hijinks. He seemed to relax a little more with each story, until she could almost forget the grief she’d seen in his eyes earlier. She wanted to ask if he’d show her some of these places and activities, because she wanted to spend some more time with him, but that was still a little too far outside her comfort zone. Right now, it was enough to sit here with him as their toes turned pruney.
Behind them the dance was breaking up. People began to stream out of the boathouse, headed back to their cabins or to the nightly campfire.
Hudson looked over his shoulder. “Maybe we ought to call it a night.”
Audrey hoped her disappointment didn’t show. “Guess it is getting kinda late.”
“Can I walk you back to your cabin?”
“That’d be nice.”
He boosted himself up in a fluid motion that had her wishing it was daylight and he was in nothing but board shorts so she could see the easy flex of muscle that enabled him to do that. That was definitely on her wish list of camp memories. Maybe later in the week.
Shifting, Audrey tried to lift her legs out of the water and realized she couldn’t get up. After all the sitting on the bus and the sitting on the hard pier for however long they’d been out here, her legs simply refused to work.
Damn it.
For the last hour or so, she’d managed to forget she was damaged. He’d made her feel normal. Just a woman, chatting and flirting with an interesting, sexy guy. The last thing she wanted was to remind him that she was anything but.
~*~
Hudson slipped his sandals back on.
From where she still sat, Audrey burst out, “You know what? I think I’ll sit out here a while longer. You go ahead.”
She wouldn’t look at him, but he could still see the flags of color in her cheeks, the hunch of her shoulders. Had he said something wrong? Mentally reviewing their conversation, he couldn’t pinpoint anything, but hell, he was so out of practice having a normal conversation these days, how would he know?
Never one to push a woman, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Okay, I’ll see you around.”
“Night, Hudson.” There was something odd in her tone.
Not your business, he told himself.
He made it to the end of the dock before he looked back. She was dragging herself backward with her hands, maneuvering herself out of the water entirely with her upper body. Hudson cursed long and low for not realizing she was having trouble with her legs. She’d needed him for balance to sit down. Why wouldn’t she need a hand up?
He jogged back to her. “Are you in pain?”
Audrey dropped her face into her hands, the flush creeping up the back of her neck. “God.” She still wouldn’t look at him. “No. Not really, they’re just...asleep.” Her voice was strangled as if she couldn’t bear for him to see her weakness. “They’ll wake up in a minute.”
Not so long as she was sitting on the hard pier. Hudson scooped her up.
Audrey gave a surprised squeak. “What are you doing?”
“Which cabin are you in?”
“Seven. You can’t just carry me all the way back to my cabin.”
“Watch me. Here, grab your shoes.” He bent so she could reach them, then simply curled her close against his chest and started walking. She weighed more than she looked, but he was willing to bet there was a fair amount of metal in her legs now. Not that he’d ask. Either way, she was nothing compared to the hoses and firefighting gear he lugged around on a daily basis.
“People are staring,” she hissed.
He’d noticed that and didn’t much care, but at the distress in her tone, he skirted the remainder of the crowd, most of which was headed for the nightly campfire.
“They’ll probably assume we’re headed off to find somewhere private to make out. That’s another common element of the classic camp experience. Everybody’s nosy about who’s having a fling with who.”
Why the hell had he said that? Now he was thinking about one of those camp flings and taking it quite a bit further than he ever had as a teenager. Audrey was a beautiful woman, all soft and vulnerable in his arms, and she smelled amazing.
Knock it off, asshole. You’ve got no business looking at her like that. No business looking at anybody like that.
Audrey had no ready comeback.
“Do you have a lot of trouble with your legs?” Not the greatest segue, but he had to do something to get his mind off the mental images that were making his shorts tighter.
“Only when I’ve been sitting too long or when I overdo it. Hudson, you really don’t have to carry me all the way. Please set me down.”
He had a feeling she was minimizing, but he detoured to one of the trail benches and put her down. Because he could still feel her embarrassment, Hudson turned his back, while she wrestled on her socks and shoes.
“Hope you brought some more practical shoes for the rest of the week.”
“It was a dance,” she argued.
One she’d spent all of with him. Not dancing. But he didn’t point that out.
He offered a hand and pulled her to her feet, not asking before he slipped an arm around her. She wobbled a bit but stayed on her feet as they began to walk. Hudson kept his strides short and easy, moving at a pace quicker than the crawl he wanted, to avoid making her feel like an invalid.
“You don’t like to take help, do you?”
“If I’d taken all the help people thrust on me after the accident, I’d never have walked again.”
“Admitting your limitations doesn’t make you weak, Audrey.”
She made a little growling noise that was probably meant to convey annoyance but came across as adorable instead. “Screw limitations. I’m here to push past them. I won’t know what I can truly do unless I try.”
“Which is admirable. But be smart about it. You’ve got two weeks to ease into things. Don’t push yourself so hard you end up benching yourself.”
Her gait began to loosen as they went. “You sound like Chad.”
Hudson felt a twinge of something. That wasn’t jealousy. “Who’s Chad? Boyfriend?”
“My physical therapist.”
The twinge eased. No, definitely not jealousy. Because that would mean he was interested. Which he definitely was not. He had no business being interested in Audrey Graham, or anyone else for that matter. He was a wreck right now. But he found himself reluctant to let her go once she was able to walk on her own. It felt strangely good to have his arm around her and hers around him.
Where was this desire to look after her coming from? Because he’d rescued her once? He wasn’t responsible for her, and he’d more than proved he couldn’t look after anybody properly.
He followed her up the cabin steps, watching her feet like a hawk the whole way. But though she moved slowly, her feet didn’t hesitate.
She turned on the little porch, tucking a chunk of hair behind one ear. “Thanks for the escort, Hudson. And the conversation.”
“No problem.” He liked the sound of his name on her lips. Too much.
The moment stretched out between them, feeling strangely date-like, which was absurd. But he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d do if he slid a hand into that silky hair and laid his lips over hers. Would they be as soft as they looked? Would her body go pliant against his?
Audrey stepped back, opening the door, and reaching inside to flip on the porch light. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hudson blinked, shaking himself out of the fantasy. “Tomorrow,” he repeated, though he had no idea why. “Good night, Audrey.”
“Night.”
He waited until she was safely back in her cabin before heading back toward h
is own. Charlie would undoubtedly be at the campfire, so now was his chance for some quiet time. And maybe he’d manage to fall asleep before his cabinmate got back. Or at least pretend to sleep. Tugging out his phone, he typed a text to his cousin, Rachel. It took ten minutes of hiking before he found enough signal to get it out.
What’s the update?
Then he waited.
Three little dots appeared almost immediately. No change. Get some sleep, Hud.
Sleep. Right.
Not that he’d done any of that consistently the past few months. Even if he managed to push himself to physical exhaustion, sleep was no reprieve. The moment he closed his eyes, he was back in that goddamned apartment fire. And that was fine. He didn’t deserve a reprieve. Didn’t deserve to forget, even for a moment. Because that minimized what happened. He’d survived, and he hadn’t figured out how to live with that.
As the familiar heaviness set in again, he realized that talking with Audrey was the first time in months he’d felt like himself.
Chapter 4
Audrey woke to birdsong.
Bird song?
She rolled over, instantly regretting it as her legs screamed. Cracking one eye, she scanned the wooden walls and screen covered windows. Windows that were open to the cool, early morning air. It was a cabin, and she was at camp.
Sam sat up on the bed across the way, a book propped on her knees, reading glasses sliding down her nose as she looked over at Audrey. “Who is he?”
“Who’s who?” Dear God, she wanted coffee like she wanted her next breath. But coffee was at the lodge, which required walking, which required she do her morning PT so that she could actually use her legs. Damn it.
“The mystery guy who carried you off last night.”
Hudson.
Sam set the book aside. “I mean, way to go for getting right on out there. But who is he?”
“It’s not like that.” Not in real life anyway. But the snatches of dreams she remembered said otherwise. “I spent too long sitting yesterday, and I was having trouble walking.”
Sam’s amusement instantly faded. “You okay?”
Audrey covered her eyes with her forearm. “Just embarrassed. Hudson overreacted.”
“I saw him carrying you when I was on my way to the campfire—we have to go tonight. You’re gonna love the s’mores. I thought you were going off to have a romantic tryst.”
Audrey flipped the covers back and began to push through the stiffness and pain to stretch and loosen up her muscles.
He’d said people would make that assumption. But more in a matter-of-fact sort of way than in an I’d-be-into-that tone. Not that her dreams had gotten the message. In that version, he’d kissed her goodnight, taking her mouth with the same unhesitating confidence with which he’d scooped her up to carry her back. Even the memory of that dream kiss had heat crawling up her cheeks.
“Sadly, no.”
“It’s early in camp yet. There’s time. I mean, there’s obviously interest there since you two sat outside and talked for two hours.”
If the party hadn’t broken up, would they have talked more? Audrey felt like she could’ve talked with him all night. When was the last time she’d met anyone interesting enough for that?
She pulled one leg into her chest, straightening her knee and pointing her toe toward the ceiling. “It’s not that simple. We have a sort of history.”
“Oh really?” Sam drew the word out to four syllables. “How does one have a ‘sort of history’?”
Audrey readjusted and held the stretch, breathing through the pain until the cramp in her calf released. “He’s the firefighter who cut me out of my car.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” Her own, personal hero.
“How does that even come up in conversation? I thought you didn’t remember much from the accident.”
“I don’t. But I remembered his voice. It’s a great voice. Sort of deep and rumbly, like the purr of a giant cat.”
Sam pursed her lips.
Audrey felt her cheeks heat. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like it’s a weird thing to fixate on.”
“I didn’t say a thing.”
“That voice kept me sane and grounded, when there was a very good chance I was dying. It stuck with me.”
Sam sobered. “Well, I think the fact that he’s here, now, is a thing. Sounds like fate to me.”
Now it was Audrey’s turn to give her the side eye. “There’s no such thing as fate.”
“You don’t think it’s weird that you’re both here?”
“He’s the one who told me about this place. He talked about it while he was cutting me out. I remembered. That’s it.”
“So, really, you came here because of him.”
Had he been somewhere in the back of her mind when she’d discovered Camp Firefly Falls was an option? Maybe. “I suppose, in a roundabout kind of way, yes. But that’s not fate. It’s just…logical consequence.”
“Logical consequence. God, you’re such a scientist.”
“We didn’t all get our PhDs by analyzing the literary ravings of dead white dudes.”
“Dead white women, thank you very much. So you, from your vaunted, rational science position, are saying you didn’t dig the hot firefighter?”
“I never said he was hot.”
“So, he’s not?”
“No, he’s smoking.” The words slipped out before Audrey could think better of them. But why not? Sam would see for herself it was true at some point.
“I rest my case. Look, you came here to make up for all those experiences you didn’t have before the accident. A time-honored tradition is the summer camp fling. He seems like an excellent candidate.”
Audrey had no desire to analyze the way her heart jumped at that idea. Sure, she was here to push outside her comfort zone, but deliberately pursuing a guy? She couldn’t imagine doing something like that. She was too awkward, too cerebral, too…something. Ignoring the faint whisper of Chicken in the back of her mind, she turned the conversation back on her friend. “Did you have a camp fling?”
“My first kiss was at camp.” Sam’s face took on a dreamy expression as she wrapped her arms around her pillow in a hug. “Jordan Marshall on the last night of camp, when I was thirteen. It was terribly romantic.”
First kiss at thirteen? Audrey had been a senior in college before she’d crossed that bridge. And when the other senior she’d gone out with had found out she was about to graduate at nineteen at the top of their class, he’d suddenly gotten very busy pretending she didn’t exist. She didn’t want to think about Cas the Ass.
“So, what happened to Jordan?”
“No idea. He never came back to camp. At least not while I was there. We just had the one kiss. Helluva kiss though.” She shifted her focus back to Audrey. “I want that for you. A helluva kiss. A superior make out session. Hell, a flaming hot affair. You deserve to live as much as you want while you’re here. Whether that’s with your firefighter or with somebody else.”
Her firefighter. Audrey shouldn’t like the sound of that so much. Hudson wasn’t her firefighter. Her hero, yes. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. But definitely not hers in any real sense of the word.
Did she want to change that? And if she did, did she have the guts to try?
Audrey didn’t know. Beyond their unusual circumstantial connection, he intrigued her. More, he’d treated her like a normal woman, not a freaktastic brainiac. Not as damaged. Even when accommodating her condition because of her injuries, she hadn’t felt like he thought she was broken. So, yeah. Fling-bait or not, she wanted to get to know him better. But that meant she had to find him first.
Physical therapy exercises complete, Audrey stood and reached for some jeans. “Right now, the only relationship I’m interested in is the one with my coffee cup. Let’s go get breakfast.”
~*~
Despite the hundred or so other pe
ople wandering the grounds, Hudson managed to spend the day completely alone out on the water. He’d kayaked the full length of the lake, well past the bounds of Camp Firefly Falls property. He’d seen others out on the water but hadn’t come close enough to speak to any of them. He’d even found a hidden cove to beach the kayak and string up his portable hammock for an afternoon nap. It had been nice not having any of his friends or family checking up on him, trying to poke without looking like they were poking, to see how he was. He’d forgotten how peaceful it was up here.
But he’d found himself thinking about Audrey off and on all day, wondering how she was getting on with her first day of camp. He hadn’t seen her. In the privacy of his own head, he could admit he’d been looking. He hoped she hadn’t suffered any lasting ill effects from whatever was going on with her legs, and that she could get out and enjoy herself the way she wanted. He told himself it was a craving for s’mores that drove him to the nightly campfire, not that he was seeking her out. The little bump of pleasure under his breastbone as he saw her sitting to one side of the fire made him a liar.
She was in animated conversation with some other campers. “It was awesome!”
He had no idea what was awesome, but the delight in her voice made his lips curve. Good. She deserved to have a good time and check some more stuff off the life list she’d told him about last night. He didn’t interrupt her conversation, instead heading for the s’mores supplies. She caught his eye as he dipped a hand into the bag of marshmallows, sending him a sunny wave before going back to her conversation. Sliding a couple of marshmallows onto his stick, he settled on the opposite side of the fire, where he could covertly watch her as she smoothly rotated her own marshmallows above the flames.
She was so… Bright was the word that kept coming to mind. Even with the hesitation he’d noticed last night, she was so thirsty for new experiences, showing a level of enthusiasm for totally basic things that most people took for granted. Who got that excited about paddle boating? It was something he’d always found dull, but listening to her talk about her afternoon on the lake, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Okay, marshmallow toasting perfection achieved. There is no way to top that.”
