Just a Summer Fling

by Cate Cameron

  She drove too fast on the way home. She eventually slowed down a little after she saw the eyes of some animal glowing at her from the forest and remembered that her bad night could get a hell of a lot worse if she murdered some wildlife just because she was upset.

  By the time she got back to the cottage she was more or less under control, but she still had to keep herself from groaning when she saw Kevin and Charlotte sitting on the porch. They’d been spending every possible moment locked away in Charlotte’s bedroom, and now they were peacefully enjoying a nightcap in a shared space?

  Because they’d expected her to be away all night, she realized as she parked and headed for the house. If there was anything worse than the walk of shame in the morning, surely this was it—the walk of someone who couldn’t even manage to do something shameful.

  Charlotte’s mouth was gaping open as Ashley approached. “He did not shoot you down!” she said, clearly waiting for an explanation.

  But Ashley wasn’t ready for that conversation. Instead, she turned to Kevin. “Josh and Jasmine McArthur. They have a thing?”

  His expression made it clear he knew something, but wasn’t sure how much he was supposed to share. He looked guiltily in Charlotte’s direction, and seeing her glare, made a face, then nodded reluctantly. “They did. That’s what I heard, at least. But it was a while ago. I didn’t know it had started up again. But Josh is always pretty quiet about that stuff.”

  “‘That stuff,’” Ashley echoed. She supposed she was included in that generic term. Whatever nonsense she’d come up with, it was all just “stuff” that some summer woman had done.

  “Sit down,” Charlotte said gently. “I’ll get you a drink. Wine? Or a cooler?”

  Ashley looked at the amber liquid Kevin was restlessly sloshing around his glass. “Scotch,” she decided. It wasn’t quite right to drown your sorrows in a berry-flavored cooler.

  Kevin stood up then. “I’ll get a glass,” he said.

  “And ice,” Charlotte added. She and Kevin were drinking theirs straight, but apparently that would be too much for a Scotch neophyte.

  Ashley was left with the vaguely comforting notion that the other two were combining efforts to take care of her. She should have been too proud to accept their pity and too strong to need it, but it felt nice to be babied a little.

  “I like Kevin,” she said when he was safely out of earshot.

  “Yeah,” Charlotte agreed. “He’s a good guy. And pretty good in bed, too. I mean, not a lot of sophistication, but excellent enthusiasm and stamina.”

  Ashley wondered what Josh would think about his cousin being described that way. Was Charlotte being dismissive? Treating Kevin as a sex object and nothing more? “Are you thinking it might be something long-term?” Ashley asked hopefully. After all, there was nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex. Nothing wrong with starting a relationship with a little—

  “Uh, no,” Charlotte said firmly. “How the hell would that work? We’re too different. Noncompatible, long-term.” She peered curiously at Ashley, obviously realizing her words weren’t what her friend had hoped for. “What’s going on with you? Are you getting prudish in your old age?”

  “No.” Ashley shook her head impatiently, trying to make her ideas make sense. “I’m just . . . When I was talking to Josh, I thought I was starting to understand what he meant. But now I’m talking to you, and everything you’re saying makes total sense. I just can’t quite figure out how to mix the two together.”

  The screen door opened and Kevin stepped outside. He’d obviously heard at least the last bit of their conversation, but he didn’t say anything until he’d poured Ashley a drink from the bottle stashed behind his chair and delivered it to her. Then he sank into his own seat and said, “Josh does the same thing.” He grinned at her. “He thinks there should be one set of rules for everyone, and the rules should be based on what’s best for him.” He took a sip of his drink, then shook his head a little. “No, not rules. He’s not a big fan of rules. Just . . . he thinks everyone’s the same, I guess. If it’s a bad idea for him to spend time with a gorgeous movie star, knowing it’s a short-term thing, then it must be a bad idea for everyone else, too.” He smiled at Charlotte, his expression open and affectionate with no hint of angst or worry. “He’s wrong.”

  Charlotte raised her glass in a little toast to Kevin’s wisdom. Then she turned to Ashley. “But if he’s involved with Jasmine McArthur, you’re better off away from him. Messing around with him up here was one thing, but if you mess with her? If you piss her off? That’s something that could follow you down to L.A. That woman has a lot of influence.”

  Kevin nodded. “Even up here, she’s not someone to mess with. She’s put some pressure on Josh, I know that. Pissed that he dumped her, so trying to punish him through his job.”

  “So he dumped her? Why? How long ago? Does David know?” Ashley asked.

  Kevin licked his lips. Maybe he was savoring the last drops of Scotch, or maybe he was buying time. “You should ask Josh for details on that,” he finally said. “For all of this, really. I shouldn’t be gossiping. I don’t know any of this firsthand, or even secondhand, because he’s never mentioned it to me. I’m just repeating shit I heard around town. It could all be wrong.”

  Charlotte squinted at him and Kevin refused to meet her eye. Ashley knew her friend would do some digging and get whatever information she could out of the man. But probably he’d been right. If Ashley wanted to know about all this, she really should ask Josh. But she thought back to the scene on the porch, remembered how close Josh and Jasmine had been standing, and she wondered whether she’d ever get the chance to talk to him about it all. And she wondered just how much of his history she really wanted to know.

  * * *

  THE early morning light should have brought clarity, but it really didn’t. Josh had no idea what he was doing. Well, he knew exactly what he was doing, but he wasn’t sure why he was doing it. Or whether he was going to be able to do it right.

  He pulled the truck in beside Charlotte’s convertible and climbed out, then hesitated. Not too late to escape. He could take the events of the night before as a lucky break, a way to extricate himself from whatever was going on with Ashley. Everything could go back to normal, if he just let it.

  But instead he gently shut the door of the truck and headed up the stairs to the porch. He didn’t think he was too early, but there were no obvious signs of life. It was Saturday, a day he generally worked during the busy summer season, but a day off for others. Did people who were already on vacation sleep in extra late on weekends?

  He didn’t want to wake anyone up, but it seemed a bit creepy to just sit there on the porch and wait. So he headed down the wood-and-stone steps toward the lake.

  And that’s where he found her. No graceful pose, this time. She was just sitting there on the end of the dock, her feet in the water, her shoulders slumped as she stared down at her toes.

  “Getting any bites?” Josh asked quietly.

  Ashley twisted her upper body around and stared at him, obviously startled. Then her expression became calmer, and more remote. Less honest. “Fish, you mean? Nibbling my toes? Yeah, a few.”

  He nodded. That was about as far as he could go with that conversational topic. So he lifted the paper bag in his right hand. “I brought muffins. From the bakery. If you’re hungry.”

  She just stared at him. Apparently he wasn’t going to be able to bypass the conversation by offering a baked-goods bribe. There went Plan A.

  So he took a few more steps forward, then nodded at the other side of the end of the dock. “Can I sit?”

  She had to think it over, but finally, reluctantly, she nodded. He supposed he’d have to count that as a tiny victory.

  He was wearing cargo shorts and sports sandals. Maybe it had been arrogant for him to leave his work boots in the truck—it probably s
eemed like he was planning a day of relaxation rather than a quick apology before going to a job site. But Ashley wasn’t looking at his feet, or at any other part of him. She was staring out at the lake, clearly waiting for this human annoyance to go away and leave her in peace.

  Another easy escape. But again, Josh didn’t take it. Instead, he lowered himself to the dock and stuck his feet in the lake next to Ashley’s. “Sorry about last night. You and me were talking, and then . . . not a pleasant interruption, I guess. You and Jasmine aren’t still friendly?”

  Ashley shook her head. “But obviously you two are.”

  Josh snorted. “Not really. Just those little visits. She’ll see me on the street or at the bar or something. She doesn’t usually come out to the house.”

  “She didn’t seem to have any trouble finding it.”

  “Yeah. I guess she’s been there before.” He wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten himself in a situation where he felt like he needed to explain himself, but he added, “She left a couple minutes after you did. I could have asked you to stay, but I figured she’d take it better without an audience.”

  Ashley finally looked at him. “But you’ve been with her before. Kevin said so, and it was obvious anyway. She somehow managed to get past your ‘no summer people’ rule, huh?”

  Josh had known the conversation was going to go there. And now he was digging up history best forgotten, exposing aspects of himself best kept hidden, in order to repair a relationship that he knew was going to cause him pain in the long run. What the hell had happened to his sense of self-preservation? He looked at the woman sitting next to him and had his answer. Ashley Carlsen had happened to it. “She was the reason I made the rule,” he said reluctantly. “Or at least, she was the final straw.”

  “Does her husband know?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not sure. I think . . .” Shit, he hated talking about this. But Ashley deserved a bit of an explanation. “I think she wanted to get caught. I don’t know why. But she sure wasn’t sneaky about it, toward the end. But he never seemed to notice. . . . Maybe he just didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to have to deal with her, you know?” He kicked at the water a little and wished the conversation could end there. But if it did, there wouldn’t have been any point to starting it all. “I’d let myself believe in it all. In all the . . .” He tried to find words that would explain without offending. “This isn’t a ritzy resort area. The summer people who come here like to think they’re not snobs. They think they’re ‘getting back to basics’ and ‘exploring the wilderness.’ They’re building huge mansions for their ‘basics’ and ‘exploring’ from their luxury SUVs, but it’s what they want to think. And they think they want to hang with the locals. A lot of them even say they’re getting in touch with ‘real’ people.”

  Ashley was frowning at him now. He couldn’t tell whether she was concentrating or getting ready to object. He decided he’d better just keep going and get it all out before she said anything to confuse him. “I used to believe all that. I hung out with their kids when I was younger. Played with their toys. And then I got older and needed a job, and I was good with my hands and I could tell myself that it was . . . I was like a craftsman, or something. I wasn’t an employee, because I had my own business. I worked with them, not for them. When they invited me to their parties, I went, and I had fun. We were all friends.”

  Yeah, that was what he’d fooled himself into believing. It hadn’t been easy to maintain the illusion, but he’d worked hard at it, and he’d managed.

  “You dated some of them,” Ashley prompted quietly.

  “Sure, yeah. Why not? Just casual stuff, but that was fine. That was all I was looking for.”

  “And you didn’t care if they were married.”

  Now it was his turn to stare at the lake. “That was . . . It was at the end. I was starting to realize I wasn’t . . . I don’t know. I realized I was a toy, I guess. One more amenity offered by the Vermont hospitality commission. So I was kind of pissed at them all. And you know Jasmine. She’s pretty good at making things seem like a good idea, even when you know they aren’t.”

  “So, now you’re equating me making a stupid bet at a bar with you having a long-term affair with a married woman? A woman whose husband you work for?”

  Josh shot a quick glance at Ashley, then looked away. He didn’t want to see her with that mix of anger and disappointment on his face. “I messed up,” he said. “They had a party and Jasmine was flirting with me and David saw it and went out of his way to talk to me like the hired help. It pissed me off. So I left, and when Jasmine caught up to me on the driveway . . .” He shrugged defeatedly. “It all kind of started from there.”

  Ashley nodded slowly. Josh wasn’t sure if she’d already known the whole story; he was a little pissed at Kevin for having told her anything, but if the bastard had told her all this? That would be way over any line Josh had ever heard of, and final evidence, as if any was needed, that Kevin was getting his head turned around by the Hollywood crowd. But that was something to worry about later. For now, Josh had to wrap up whatever the hell he was doing with Ashley. “So that’s . . . I think that’s all of it. It’s why I don’t date summer people, and why I’ve been trying to avoid you. It’s why Jasmine came to my house last night, and why I sent her away.”

  Ashley didn’t say anything for a while. Finally, she turned to look at him, and she waited until he made himself look back at her. “So why are you here now?” she asked quietly. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just stay away? You had to know I’d be gone for good after that scene last night.”

  “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “I guess I figured you would be. And I guess . . . when it came right down to it, I guess I decided that wasn’t what I wanted.”

  She nodded, and then turned back to the lake. “I’ve got to tell you, Josh, I’m getting pretty damn tired of spending all my time worrying about what you want. Especially when you’re so totally undecided yourself. You know?”

  He did know. He understood. But before he could admit to that, she added, “You know what I’m starting to wonder? I’m wondering whether maybe you just get off on rejecting me. Maybe you’re the one into revenge, but you’re too chicken to go after the people who actually hurt you so you’re focusing on me instead. It was fun for you to turn me down, and then it seemed like I was going to walk away, so now you’re here, saying whatever you think it’s going to take to get me wanting you again, so you can have the fun of shooting me down one more time.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He was on his feet before he’d realized he was going to start moving. He’d opened his soul to her, told her things he’d never told anybody, confessed to his arrogance and stupidity and shameful behavior. On one level, he’d known she’d be mad, but somehow he’d fooled himself into thinking that maybe she’d understand a little, too. One more mistake to add to his long list. “Okay,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

  He turned and headed off the dock, refusing to let himself run or even walk fast. This wasn’t a big deal. It was a good thing, really. His heart was pounding faster than it should be and his stomach was tense and roiling; if he reacted that way to this tiny disappointment, how much worse would it have been if he’d let himself really care about her and then been dumped?

  Kevin and Charlotte were on the deck when he walked by, sharing one chair and watching him like two bobcat kittens wondering if the passing wolf was going to notice them. Josh resisted the urge to growl. Or, at least, he made his growl sound like words. “You working today?” he asked his cousin.

  “Do you need me?”

  “No.” He didn’t need anybody. “But there’s work if you want it.”

  Kevin hesitated, clearly torn between enjoying himself with his movie star and actually making a living. “Will you have hours for me next week?”

  Josh want
ed to punish the bastard for squealing to Ashley, but Kevin was Aunt Carol’s kid, and that bought him some serious forgiveness for being a loudmouth. The whole thing was too tiring; Josh just didn’t have the energy to hold a grudge. “Yeah, probably. I’ll see you at The Splash on the weekend, let you know then.”

  And that was all. He gave Charlotte a courteous nod and got the hell out of there. He’d been planning to work on the Fullers’ gazebo, but that would be fidgety precision work. He wanted something that would use his whole body and let him burn off some frustration. The Claymore bush clearing would burn some energy, so he’d do that.

  He headed out along the cottage road, trying to find a plan for the day, trying to think about other jobs he needed to get done. Trying to think about anything but the angry, disappointed woman he’d left behind him.

  Thirteen

  ASHLEY’S COPY OF the script was already dog-eared and ragged, but it deteriorated even more when she threw it across the room. She watched it hit the wall and then flutter into a twisted heap on the hardwood floor. The little tantrum didn’t do the script any good, and it didn’t really help Ashley, either. She was still as frustrated and confused as she’d been all day.

  Kevin was in the kitchen working on dinner, but Charlotte was sitting at the far end of the same sofa Ashley was on, and she wasn’t the sort to ignore someone else’s display of emotion. “You ready to talk about it now?”

  Ashley wished she had something left to throw. Instead she flopped her body restlessly to the side. “There’s still nothing to say. It’s all just too . . . It’s supposed to be simple, isn’t it? You and Kevin are simple. You like spending time together, so you’re spending time together. That’s how these things are supposed to go!”

  “Do you think it makes sense to compare you and Josh to me and Kevin?” Charlotte’s tone was carefully neutral, but the question was pretty clearly rhetorical.

  “Because Kevin isn’t a brooding, grudge-holding psycho, you mean?”