by Helen Brenna
For the first day or two that wasn’t all that difficult. She and the kids stayed busy. But as the week wore on, Jamis and his kiss seemed to be all she could think about. The unexpected softness of his beard, the strength of his arms, the solid breadth of his chest—he’d taken her completely by surprise and kissed her as if he wasn’t sure the sun would rise in the morning. The fact that he’d stated very succinctly that he still didn’t want her on his side of the trees confused and confounded her. Maybe it was the way he called her Sunshine. She wasn’t silly enough to think the nickname was meant in a kind way, but when he said the word there was a distinctly endearing quality to his voice.
Somehow, someway, she was determined to break through to that man. But how?
Already, it was Friday night and after dinner Galen whipped through his chores as if Arlo Duffy, the town carriage driver, was cracking a horsewhip on the boy’s behind. Natalie chuckled to herself as he came speeding downstairs, smelling heavily of cologne.
“Can I go now?”
“Just a minute.” Natalie took a box out of the pantry, wanting to catch all the kids before they all wandered away. “I have something for everyone!”
The kids all glanced at her expectantly as she set the box on the table. “What is it?” someone asked.
“Candy?”
“Ice cream.”
“Journals!” She beamed, pulling out various shapes and sizes of decorated books filled with nothing except blank pages. She’d hoped this would help them with the dreams and wishes side of this camp. “You don’t have to write in them if you don’t want, but I’d like each of you to take one and think about it.”
“Diaries are for chicks,” Blake said.
“These aren’t diaries,” Sam said, picking up a red silk-covered book heavily decorated with beads. “They’re journals.”
“This—” Chase picked up a lavender book with tiny pink ribbons glued to the front and held it out “—is a diary.”
“Maybe, dude.” Galen held out a leather-bound book. “But this is a guy’s book. You could use this to draw comics.”
“Exactly!” Natalie said, smiling at Galen. Since their talk several weeks ago, he’d been making a marginally better effort to engage in activities and in helping with the kids and household responsibilities. Slowly, but surely, he’d been coming around. “I’d like you to write all your dreams and wishes in here, but they’re your journals, so you can use them for anything. Jokes, stories, pictures.”
Chase shrugged and took the book out of Galen’s hands. Blake grabbed one of the other leather-bound books while Ryan found one covered with sports pictures. Arianna and Ella each picked out books covered in bright, fuzzy fur, but chose different colors. Toni took the lavender book Chase had discarded. “I like this one,” she whispered.
“It’s yours,” Natalie said.
Each child thanked her as he or she wandered into the living room. Sam, though, hung back, glanced at Natalie and raised her eyebrows.
“I know. I know,” Natalie said, pulling out another box from the pantry that had been delivered that afternoon. “I have something else for you, Galen.”
“What is it?” he asked.
Sam grinned. “Open it up and find out.”
Natalie watched him tear back the cardboard flaps, feeling amazingly unsure for the first time around a kid. “If you don’t like it, it’s all returnable. I found what looked like a trendy online site and Sam helped me from there.”
Sam shrugged. “I tried, anyway.”
His face turned serious as he pulled out three sweatshirts and several T-shirts. He glanced up at Sam and a slight blush washed her cheeks.
“I’ll let you know how much you can spend and you can order some jeans or shoes, but…” Natalie trailed off. “Is this stuff okay?”
“Okay?” He glanced up at her, and his sullen and disgruntled demeanor disappeared. “Um. Yeah, this stuff is way okay. Thanks.”
He hugged Natalie, and by the time she pulled away Sam had disappeared into the living room. “Cool. I’m glad you like it, but Sam is the one who picked everything out.”
He got a funny smile on his face. “So she doesn’t really hate my guts?”
“No. I’m sure she doesn’t.”
He shrugged out of his old sweatshirt and into one of the new ones. “See you later.” He ran toward the door.
“Isn’t Sam going with you?”
“She didn’t want to tonight. Can I still go?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks again, Natalie. For everything.” He paused at the door. “And I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I’ll try to do better.” Then he rushed outside and disappeared.
Her work with Galen wasn’t finished, but they were making headway. She wandered into the living room to find out what was up with Sam. She’d gone into town with Galen every Friday since they’d arrived on the island and seemed to have a good time. The younger kids were lying on the floor or lounging on the couch. Sam was sitting off by herself in a corner chair, looking bored. “Hey.” Natalie nudged her on the shoulder. “You didn’t want to go into town with Galen?”
“No, those guys are tr—” She stopped and looked quickly away. “I don’t feel like going out. Kinda tired. In fact, I’m going upstairs to my room to read.” Taking her journal with her, she disappeared up the steps.
Natalie watched her and wondered what those islander teenagers were getting into, but she couldn’t ask Sam to snitch on Galen. Galen, let’s hope you have your head on straight. She did not want to have to send him home.
“Anyone for a game?” she asked.
“Yeah!” came the resounding response followed by every kid calling out his or her favorite board game.
Several hours later, after a night of playing board games and having stuffed their stomachs with popcorn and soda, the kids all went to their respective rooms and promptly went to sleep. Natalie cracked open Sam’s door to see if she wanted to watch a movie and found her sound asleep, her new journal open in front of her. Natalie hadn’t planned on spying, but the one line Sam had written was as clear as a bell.
I wish I could stay here forever.
Oh, Sam. Natalie wanted to brush back the long strands of hair that had fallen over the girl’s face. I hope this summer is everything you need it to be.
Natalie switched off the bedroom light, snuck quietly downstairs, and wandered into the kitchen. She paced in front of the sink, feeling a bit like a caged animal. After debating all of thirty seconds, she scribbled out a note for any one of the kids who might come looking for her.
“Kiss or no kiss, it’s time we cleared the air.” She grabbed a bottle of wine from the top shelf in the pantry and two glasses and took off through the woods. On reaching Jamis’s yard, she noticed him on his deck, Snickers asleep near his chair.
Wearing a black fleece jacket, his feet propped up, his long, jeans-clad legs stretched out in front of him, he glanced up from the book he was reading the moment she came into the clearing. “You’re trespassing,” he said, frowning.
She held up the bottle. “But I come bearing a gift.” Snickers hopped up and ran to greet her and she patted his head.
Jamis snapped the book closed and folded his arms across his chest. “What is it going to take to get you to leave me alone?”
“Come on, Jamis. Our houses are the only ones on this end of the island. Can’t we be friends?”
CHAPTER NINE
“FRIENDS?” JAMIS SAID, a note of disbelief tingeing the sound of his voice. “Not possible.”
“Sure it is.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Nope.” Natalie opened the bottle, poured him a glass and held it out.
He glanced first at her, then the wine and then back again. As clear as the full moon glowing high in the sky, she could see the memory of their kiss skittering through his mind, but then he seemed to lock it up and put it away. He shook his head and reached for the glass. “All right, Sunshine, bu
t if we’re going to do this, I want some honesty. And none of this ‘the world is a perfect rainbow of happiness’ bullshit, either.”
“Okay.” She leaned against the deck rail. “Honesty. Why do you—”
“Oh, no. We’re going to talk about you.” He pulled his feet off the chair and stood. Holding the glass of wine, he studied her. “Starting with what do you want from me?”
She shrugged. “I told you. To be friends.”
“See, that’s not good enough.” Studying her, he slowly moved toward her. “I think this camp isn’t enough for you. I think you want to turn me into another one of your projects. I think you’d like nothing more than to be my savior.”
“I’m not trying to be anyone’s savior.”
“Sure you are. You’d save the entire world if you could manage it.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I’ll bet anything that you’ve spent your vacations building, painting or repairing houses, haven’t you?”
“A couple.”
“Ever work in a food bank?”
“Several times a year.”
“Give blood?”
“Just got my five gallon pin.”
“Women’s shelters?”
“I used to answer the phones once a week.”
“Figures.” Scoffing, he shook his head.
“What does?”
“Neck deep in one crusade after another.”
“When you put it that way, it sounds rather pathetic.” She set her wineglass on a nearby deck table. She didn’t mind standing up for her camp. She’d been doing that for months while getting approvals and licenses, but this personal attack was something altogether different. “You think all I am is a Goody Two-shoes, don’t you?”
He said nothing.
“Well, I got news for you, there’s more here than meets the eye.”
“That I’d like to see.” His gaze turned smoky and disconcerting.
“What’s so wrong about helping other people?”
“Nothing. As long as you’re not using all those activities to avoid your own issues.”
“Which are?” She straightened her shoulders.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I don’t have any issues.”
“Sunshine, we all have issues.”
“Maybe I’ve dealt with mine.”
“Right.” He looked her up and down. “Fresh out of college? I don’t think so.”
“As a matter of fact, I just turned thirty. Thank you very much.”
He looked surprised and possibly relieved. “Survived a big one, eh? So why aren’t you married?”
She took a fortifying gulp of wine. “Who says I’m not?”
“No man in his right mind would let you out of his sight for three months.” He paused and gazed at her. “Smart. Caring. Sexy.” His eyes were dark and getting darker. For a moment, she thought he might reach for her. “What’s the catch, Natalie?”
Cocking her head, she whispered, “Can’t cook.”
He chuckled, and it was one of the most fascinating sounds she’d ever heard, full of nuance and suggestion. She tilted her head upward and though she hadn’t moved, the distance between them seemed to close. “It so happens I haven’t met the right man.”
“I don’t believe you.” He was going to kiss her. Almost sure of it, she quickly turned away, breaking whatever spell had overtaken him. “So that gets us right back to where we started. What do you want from me?”
“I told you. I could use a friend.”
“You haven’t dated many men, have you?” he asked.
“Plenty. Trust me.”
“That many, huh? What’s the longest you’ve been with one guy?”
She didn’t like feeling cornered. “That’s not relevant.”
“Bet it wasn’t very long—”
“What is this, an inquisition?” She crossed her arms.
“You’re the one who wanted to be friends.”
“You going to take down the no-trespassing signs?”
“Maybe.”
She considered him for a moment and realized she had nothing to hide. “I’ve had a streak of bad luck with men. That’s all.”
“Bad luck. Right.” He stared her down.
“All right. Fine. The longest I’ve ever dated a guy was three months.”
“That’s not very long. Who was he and why did you break up?”
“He was a coworker’s brother,” she said, picking up her wine and turning away. “Owned an excavating company. Came from a family of ten kids, but didn’t want any of his own.”
“And it took you that long to figure that out?”
“He claimed he’d made that clear right up front, but I don’t remember him divulging that key piece of information.” She felt herself getting slightly miffed at Jamis for bringing it all back up. When she’d broken up with Chad, he’d literally fallen apart and blamed it all on her. “How could anyone not want children, anyway?”
“Fatal flaw, huh?” He stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at him. “The one before that?”
“Teacher. Liked kids so much, he wanted—”
“Let me guess. Six.”
“Eight.” And was so convinced she was destined to be the mother of his big brood that he wouldn’t accept the breakup. He’d turned stalkerlike within a week.
“I’ll bet you even dated one who was too much like a child himself.”
Carl. Now she was getting angry, angrier than she’d been in a very long time.
“I’m sure there were more. Keep going.”
“No.”
“So now you’re pouting.”
She glared at him. “There was a personal trainer who couldn’t stop looking in the mirror. The perpetual student who never wanted to get a full-time job. The DJ who so much liked the sound of his own voice—”
“—he couldn’t stop talking long enough to listen to you.” He shook his head. “Why are you always picking men with these glaring flaws?”
“Well, I certainly don’t know they have them right away.”
“Sure you do. I’m guessing you’ve known instantly about every flaw of every man you’ve ever dated.”
“That’s just…” She stopped.
“Not bad luck, that’s for sure. You knew nothing would come of any of those relationships. They were all doomed before they’d even begun.”
She backed away from him. “And you’re such an expert on relationships?”
“Not even close. But I was married for four years, and filing for a divorce wasn’t my idea. At least that tells you I’m not afraid of commitment.”
What an infuriating ass of a man. “I’m not afraid of commitment!”
“No. You’re afraid of being abandoned. That’s why you always pick men with no possible future with you.”
Furious now, she didn’t—couldn’t—say anything.
“You like to fix things, don’t you?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” she threw back at him.
“Because all the men you choose are fixer-uppers.” He studied her, as if he was working something out. “It gives you an easy out.”
She felt tilted off center. Leave them before they could leave her. Dammit, but he could be right.
“What about me?” he whispered. “Am I just another man you want to fix?”
“No. It’s not that, it’s—”
“What do you want from me, Natalie?”
“Nothing, I—”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. It seemed an innocent enough gesture, except for the fact that his hand lingered near her neck. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“What?” she whispered.
“I don’t want you here.”
“I think you’ve made that perfectly clear.” He’d been nothing short of attacking her. Maybe it was time to return fire. “Why don’t you give me a little honesty? Tell me why you don’t want me here and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Because you
came over here tonight thinking if you share a glass of wine, some conversation, then wave your magic wand over me all would be well. You want to fix me just like you’ve tried to fix all those other men.”
“No, I—”
“Only I don’t need fixing, Natalie.”
“You’re wrong. You do. You lost your wife, your children—”
His gaze swung toward her. “Be very careful what you say.”
“I wanted to understand why you were here, so I looked up some old online articles. But it doesn’t make any sense. It was an accident.”
He clenched his jaw and looked away.
“Why do you hate yourself so much?” She put her hand softly on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”
He glanced down at her hand and his mouth parted. “I haven’t been with a woman in five years, Natalie. The next time you touch me, you’d better be ready to be touched back.”
Five years. That was a long, long time for a man. For some crazy reason his admission felt more to her like a challenge than a warning. She trailed her hand up his arm, over his shoulder and through the locks of soft, curly hair on his neck. His face was only inches from hers.
“I’m warning you,” he whispered. “Unlike the rest of your fatally flawed men, I happen to like myself the way I am.”
“No, you don’t. You just think you do.”
Like a wild animal sniffing out its territory, he leaned closer, smelling her neck, then her hair. “You willing to take that risk?”
She closed her eyes and kissed him.
He stood still, ramrod straight as she peppered his mouth with the lightest of touches. But when she lingered a moment, her lips opened and felt his tongue with the tip of her own, his breath left his body. “Okay, Sunshine. You want it, you got it.” He dragged her close and held her against him.
As his tongue brushed against hers, something fired to life inside her. This. This is what she wanted from him. To feel him. She ran her hands up and along his side. To touch him. His back muscles were tight and tense. She’d never kissed a man built so perfectly. He was so strong and demanding.
As if to prove it, his hands dipped under her shirt, traveled up her bare back and flicked the clasp on her bra. He cupped her breast and she shivered. He pulsed his hips toward her and his erection pressed against her, feeling at once wrong and right, startling and bone melting. She wanted her clothes off. She wanted to feel his naked skin next to hers. She wanted—
