He reaches down for a stack of cones and looks up at me with a grin. “Were you attacked by any werewolves?” I pick up a ball and lob it at him in response. He ducks, and widens his grin. There goes my stomach again.
Jeffrey meets us at the court, and Vaughn introduces him to the campers, tossing in a few of Jeffrey’s more impressive stats, including playing in all four grand slam tournaments back in his day, including a match in the quarterfinals of Wimbledon that went to a tiebreaker between him and Andre Agassi. But the campers seem unimpressed. Jeffrey slices a hand across his throat with a stern look, and Vaughn nods concession. I doubt these kids even know grand slam has a significant meaning outside of baseball.
“Whatever,” Vaughn says. “Everyone grab a racquet.”
We work and play until lunchtime, Vaughn continuing to impress me with how good he is with these kids. He’s tough but encouraging. They respond to his instruction and seem to want to please him—most of them.
I want to disappear into the woods for just a moment of alone time, but I know I need to be present for these girls. I enjoy being around them, but the constant interaction has served as overstimulation for my brain. I’m an only child, so I’m used to being alone. Nancy sits at the table to eat with us, so I decide to indulge in ten minutes for myself while another caretaker is here for them. I excuse myself with promises that I’ll be right back, and when I think no one is looking, I detour through the tree line to a stump in the woods that I spotted yesterday.
I close my eyes, letting the stimulation from the morning exit out my fingertips and toes with deep cleansing breaths of fresh, woodsy air. A bird chirps somewhere close by, and I make out a pattern to its call. I repeat the pattern back, and the bird starts it again. I spot the bird…a bluebird perched on a low limb, and I swear it’s watching me. It turns its little head in jerky movements, but then it stops for a few seconds, its gaze set on me, if that’s possible. A warm sensation fills me, like a ray of sunshine illuminating my chest, and I look up at the sky to see a cloud making way for the sun. The crunch of leaves behind me breaks the moment, and I turn to find Vaughn approaching.
I look back at the limb where the bird was, but it’s gone.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m coming back. I just needed a minute.”
“It’s fine. Fred and Nancy are sitting with the campers.” He goes to walk away, then turns back. “Did I do something or…”
I stand. “No, not at all. I’m just not used to this much interaction. I’m an only child. I’ve spent most of my life by myself or with just my dad. This is a lot to get used to, and there’s not really much opportunity to get away.”
He nods understanding, and I realize he might be the same way. He huffs a laugh. “I guess I’m usually around people all day, lots of them. Talking, schmoozing.” He narrows his gaze. “It’s exhausting actually.”
I giggle. “Yeah.”
He looks around and sits on the stump. “I guess I never really thought about just stepping away from it all and taking a breath.”
“You can totally do that, you know.”
“I can do that,” he says, like it’s the most exciting thing he’s heard in a while…well, for him and his cool guy attitude.
“You’re good,” I say. He turns back toward me with a wonky eyebrow. “With the kids. You’re really good with them. You’ve never worked with kids before?”
He shrugs. “No, not really. I don’t know, I just think about how I’d want to be treated…with respect, but I wouldn’t want anyone going easy on me. That’s sort of how Jeffrey’s always been with me.” He meets my gaze. “You’re the one who’s good.”
I snort. “Yeah, so good I had to run off into the woods to be alone.” He stands off the stump, and I hold out a hand. “Not that I mind you being here.” I cover my eyes from embarrassment over what I just said. “I mean, I don’t want you to be here, not like that, so you can tighten your little chastity belt there, Vaughn Yarborough. Your virtue is safe with me.” I end with a smile in hopes that he sees how this is all one big joke and that I absolutely am not falling for him in any way, shape, or form.
He moves closer, his eyes intent on me, and he takes my hand. Is that allowed? My heart flutters in a frenzy at his touch, the two of us in the woods, alone.
“Thanks for coming here,” he says. “I know you didn’t have to.” He runs his thumb over the top of my hand, and I drown in the sensation of the intensity of the moment, so much so, that I almost miss the fact that I think his face is coming closer to mine…his mouth is getting nearer…
As much as I want to, we can’t. Not here, not now. What am I talking about? Not ever.
I pull my hand away and take two steps backward. “Sure. It’s great money, and I love working with the kids. And Jeffrey, he’s an incredible coach.” I stumble over a broken branch as I take another couple of steps backward. “You’re really lucky to have him, you know? Was that thing about the tiebreaker with Andre Agassi true or did you make that up?” I point to the mess hall through the tree line. “We should probably get back, don’t you think?”
He grins as he drops his head, and then nods. “Sure.” He holds out his hand. “After you.”
I nod as I turn my back on him and hightail it out of there.
…
By Wednesday, our routine has fallen into a comfortable groove, and I feel like I’ve known these kids forever. We’re wrapping up our morning court work with them when Jeffrey approaches me. “You got a half hour in you for sprints before lunch? Nancy said she’d watch the girls.” He nods in Nancy’s direction, who waves at me with a nod.
“Oh, sure,” I say. I look around for Fred. “Is Fred going to take the boys?”
“This will be without Vaughn. I just want a half hour to focus on your forehand.”
“Great,” I say, thrilled to get any solo time with him on the court.
The kids clear out and Jeffrey starts in with me, feeding balls to me hard, shouting tips as well as encouragement when I finally do something right…which isn’t as often as I’d like. The half hour goes by quicker than expected, and I’m tempted to ask him if he can stay longer, but I can’t take advantage of Nancy. We both head to the benches, and I take a drink of water.
Jeffrey slides his racquet into the cover. “You remind me a little of a kid I coached back in the mid-2000s. Have you ever seen Amber Reilly play?”
I swallow the water, hard, grinning on the inside, but staying cool on the outside. “Um, yes, a few times.”
“You could be like that. You have an incredible amount of power behind your strokes. You just need the control.”
I scratch my forehead, my hand quivering. “Okay. Thanks, I’ll work on it.”
“You and Vaughn getting along okay?”
“Yes, of course. He’s really patient with the kids, and with me.”
“Good.” He studies me. “The two of you have more in common than you probably realize.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, a little curious with where he’s going with this.
“He could use a friend like you…a good influence.”
“Oh. Sure,” I say.
“You’re smart and you care about people. He doesn’t have anyone like you in his life. I predict that you’re going to have a positive effect on him, and by the end of the summer, he’ll probably value your opinion.”
“Mm-hmm,” I say, studying him.
He glances at the tree line and then sets his gaze back on me. “I’d like to ask you to help me with something.”
Now, I’m super wary. “Okay.”
“Help me convince him that he needs to go pro rather than going to Avery.”
“Oh,” I say, dumbly. But I guess Jeffrey would want him to go pro. I suppose he won’t make any money if Vaughn goes to college. “He seems pretty adamant that he doesn’t want to go pro.”
“Well, he might seem that way, but I’m telling you, college isn’t the road for him…especi
ally not a college like Avery. Vaughn hasn’t had to do a day of schoolwork since he was fourteen years old. He will evaporate at college.”
“But he graduated Cedar Prep, right?”
“On paper. He’s done everything online through his tutors. They’ve done it all for him. Hell, they didn’t even tell him when he had a test half the time. If he goes to Avery, he won’t make it past the first semester. He needs to take this short break this summer, and then jump right back in, or all this momentum we’ve worked for all these years will be for nothing.”
I bite on my fingernail, thinking about Vaughn failing out of school and losing his tennis career all at once. What would he do? It’s not like he has supportive parents helping him with this.
“Just get to know him. See what you think. Make your own determination. If you think it’s in his best interest, too, then help me convince him, okay?”
I stare at him for a good, long while, processing all this. I can see where Jeffrey Lyons thinks it’s for Vaughn’s own good, but I’ll need to make my own determination.
“Okay,” I say.
He smiles. “Good. I’m headed out for the rest of the week. I’ll be here Sunday morning, early. Maybe we can get in a solo hour.”
“Fantastic,” I say, but I can’t help but wonder if this extra time isn’t coming with a price.
Chapter Nine
Vaughn
An imposing flash opens up the sky, followed by a crack of lightning that makes us all jump a mile high.
“Get back to the cabins,” I shout. “Toss your racquets in a pile by the gate. I’ll get them.”
The campers obey and scurry like mice. I throw the tarp over the ball cart. Carlyn grabs the empty bags and runs to the pile of racquets.
“Go!” I yell. “I’ll get those.”
“I’ll help,” she shouts.
Mammoth raindrops start plopping down on us. I shove racquets into bags. “You’re gonna get soaked. Go.”
“I think it’s too late for that,” she says with a gargantuan grin.
I smile back, and our exchange is a little breakthrough for us. We’ve been…weird around each other since the other day in the woods when I almost kissed her. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t kiss her. Thank God she shut it down, because that can’t happen. One look from Fred is all I ever need if I begin to doubt that.
I’ve kept my distance since and worked with her, co-worker to co-worker, completely professional and stoic…and it’s been killing me.
“Hurry up,” I say. “We could get struck by lightning.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she says.
I stop and stare at her. “Really?”
She laughs. “No.”
I toss a bag with racquets over my shoulder. She gets the other, and we both haul ass toward the shed, me pushing the cart. She slings open the door and waits inside while I push the cart in.
She stands at the door of the shed, looking outside at the driving rain. “I’ve got to get down to the cabins so the kids aren’t alone.”
“Just wait a minute for the worst of the storm to pass.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says as another crash of lightning makes her jump back and close the shed door, leaving us in muggy darkness.
“Pull the chain to turn on the light,” she says.
I grab for it. “Where is it?”
“You’re standing right under it.”
I feel around everywhere. “I can’t find it.”
“It’s right there,” she says.
“Where?”
Her wet skirt brushes against my leg. “It’s right here.”
Light illuminates the shed, and Carlyn and I stand nose to chin. She’s tall for a girl, but I still have a few inches on her. If she were a little taller, or me shorter, we’d practically be kissing right now.
She tries to step backward, but a lawn tractor takes her down. “Ow.”
I reach for her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I may have just cut my leg. It’s probably fine.”
“Let me see,” I say.
“It’s fine.”
I use my authoritative voice. “Let me see.”
She thinks about it, and then grabs hold of my shoulder while she lifts her back leg. Our close proximity makes my heart pound, not to mention the soaking wet tank top that clings to her chest. I peer over her shoulder at the back of her calf. “You’re bleeding a little.” I nod toward the seat of the tractor. “Sit.”
I pull the first aid kit down from the shelf along with a roll of paper towels, unraveling a few to make sure not to get a dusty one. I take a knee and lift her leg, setting her ankle on my knee.
“I didn’t know you were a nurse in your spare time,” she says.
I blot the paper towel on her leg, trying my best not to look up her tennis skirt. “That’s doctor to you.”
I reach for the first aid box and find a hydrogen peroxide wipe. I rip open the square and ease the towelette over the cut. I look up at her, and she meets my gaze. “Does that hurt?” I ask.
“Uh-uh.”
I smile down at the wound. “You’re a tough girl.”
“You don’t have to placate me, Vaughn. I’m not one of the kids.”
My name rolling off her lips sends a shiver through my chest. I cup her leg at her ankle. “Trust me, I’m all too aware of that.” I stare into her eyes, forcing her to look away first, because I’m not going to do it. I blow on the cut to dry the peroxide, and she giggles. “What?” I ask, unable to keep my grin contained.
“Nothing.”
I peel the back off a Band-Aid and smooth it onto her skin. I give her leg a final squeeze. “All fixed up.”
She drops her foot to the floor. “Thanks, Nurse Yarborough.”
I stand. “I prefer Medical Miracle Worker.”
The rain beats down on the roof of the shed, and I lean against a shelf, trying not to let my gaze drop below her chin. Of all days for her to be in white. Maybe there is a God after all.
She settles back on the lawn mower seat. I don’t like the look she’s giving me. I think she’s getting ready to call me out on my shit. Problem is, there’s an array of it. Who knows which thing her focus will be on today. I decide the best defense is a good offense.
“So, you’ve been ignoring me these past few days.” I give her a little grin to keep it light between us.
“I’ve been ignoring you?”
“Yeah,” I say. She looks heavenward, and then shakes her head. She sets her gaze on me, trying to figure out my game. Good luck with that. I’m making it up as I go. I toss her a tennis ball. “What was all that talk earlier to Josh about Rafael Nadal’s swing? Is he your very most favorite tennis player ever because he’s so cute?” I’m sure to emphasize the last two words. I’m so sick of girls swooning over that guy.
“As a matter of fact, yes, he’s one of my favorites, but that has nothing to do with his adorable smile.”
I roll the ball around in my hand. “Please.”
Shaking her head at me, she hikes a leg over to straddle the lawn tractor. She holds the wheel, moving it back and forth like she’s steering a racecar, and then stops suddenly. “Do you think the girls all went into the girls’ cabin and the boys to the boys’?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on if they thought quickly enough to do something shady.”
She hikes her leg back over to the other side of tractor, and I have to will myself not to take a peek where I shouldn’t be looking. “I’ve got to get down there before—” An explosion of lightning stops her in her tracks.
“Before what?” I ask. “Before they all jump each other?”
She purses her lips. “They’re our responsibility. I don’t want some angry parents blaming me for letting one of your boys take their baby’s…”
“Their baby’s what? Socks? Teddy bear?”
She grins, turning her head to scratch the back of her neck. “Quit it.”
“Take what?�
��
She stands and walks the two steps it takes to be as far away from me as possible in this cramped, humid space. “You’re not going to get me to say it.”
She won’t look at me, and it’s so damn cute that I can hardly stay put in my spot. My body begs me to go to the other side of this shed, and I remember now why I’ve been ignoring her all week.
I pick up a gadget off the shelf and inspect it. “They’re not going to have sex with each other right now, knowing we’ll be back any minute and with all of them there in the cabin. Worse thing that can happen is some of them might get their first kiss.”
Her face fills with color, and as cool as I try to be, mine heats as well. She turns to the side, leaning on a shelf. “Ugh. Better them than me. First kisses suck.”
This gets my attention. Not that she didn’t already have it. “You don’t like first kisses?”
She meets my gaze. “Well, I mean, your very first kiss usually sucks.”
I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t want to think of her kissing some other guy, even if it did suck. But I’ve got to know this story. “Your first kiss sucked, huh?”
“God, yes. Phil Carpenter. I met him at the beach. He’s from Kansas.”
Phil Carpenter. Sounds like an asshole. “Mm-hmm,” I grunt.
She scrunches up her face, putting her fingertips to her mouth. “He went straight in with his tongue, like, before his lips even touched mine. It was gross.” She shivers for effect. “He got my face all wet.”
“Sounds like a man with the moves,” I say with superiority, because if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s kiss a girl without grossing her out.
She gives me an accusatory glare. “What about you? I suppose all your kisses have been grandiose.”
I shrug. “I guess it’s different for guys. We’re usually the ones leading the way. We do it our way, so of course we’re going to like it.”
Her playful glare turns ominous, her golden-brown eyes narrowed. “Your way, huh? How do you know all the girls you’ve kissed have liked it? How do you know there aren’t ten girls out there stuck in ten different sheds with ten different guys right now telling the story of their worst first kiss, courtesy of Vaughn Yarborough?”
Courting Carlyn Page 7
