Betting on Love

by Mary Beesley

  “Those walls are thin.” Zena’s voice cut through the air.

  The kissing stopped.

  Tempest buried her nose and mouth in her sweatshirt and giggled.

  Zena snorted, her shoulders seeming to relax for the first time in hours. She poked at the dying fire with a stick, cracking open the charred wood. “Should I put another log on?”

  Tempest glanced at Leo, her eyes glittery through the clear smoke. “Nothing else to do.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Zena said.

  Leo got another two pieces from the pile they’d bought on their way into camp. Felt a little ridiculous buying firewood for five bucks a bundle when they were now sitting in a forest. He set the logs on the crackling embers.

  A few yards away, Jo and baby Harrison left the tent. She had a blanket over her shoulder and her lips pinched tight. She didn’t say a word as she climbed into their car and closed the door.

  At least he didn’t have a baby to take care of tonight.

  Leo watched flame devour wood, listened to crickets and rustling leaves, and felt the contrasting kiss of hot smoke and cool breeze on his skin.

  After long minutes, Zena broke the spell. “It is mesmerizing.” Her pale eyes reflected orange and gold.

  “Hours of entertainment,” Leo said. “Caveman style.”

  Zena coughed when the wind shifted, sending a plume of gray into her face. She waved at the offensive cloud. “I wonder how often they got high from burning different stuff.” She leaned back in her chair and stuck her hands in her hoodie pockets. “Probably discovered all sorts of drugs by accident.”

  “Maybe that’s why they worshiped the Earth as their god,” he said.

  Zena grinned. Tempest watched the flames dance.

  “Ancient man did discover an impressive number of medicinal herbs.” Leo picked up a round stone and rolled it in his palm.

  “Exactly what I’m talking about. Low tech geniuses.”

  He laughed. “They also were into human sacrifice.”

  “Can we really knock it until we’ve tried it?” Zena coughed as another round of fumes punched into her face.

  “I think it’s time for you to stop smoking and go to bed.” He shifted on the fallen log. He’d been sitting too long, and his lower back hurt. A knot in the wood was digging into his butt.

  Zena looked up at the stars. “I know you hear this all the time, but I am not sleeping with you.”

  “It’s just sleep.”

  “Is that what you tell all the ladies?”

  He rolled his eyes, careful not to look at Tempest.

  “You’re a fully grown man, even if you are my brother. What if you forget who I am and try to cuddle? Or get morning wood?”

  He glanced sidelong at Tempest as she looked up from the embers. Their gazes locked, but he couldn’t read her expression. Her eyes were like melted stars in the darkness. At least she couldn’t see the heat rising to his cheeks. She was coming in that tent with them too. This was so weird. “We’re camping. How can I not pitch a tent?”

  Zena shook her head and put a hand between her brows. “I cannot take another stupid camping joke.”

  “Too in tents for you?”

  She hissed at him.

  “I’ll sleep in the car to give you guys more room,” Tempest said.

  Zena stood. “That’s kind of you to offer, but I’ve already claimed it.”

  “You can’t do that.” Leo’s pulse doubled.

  “Watch me.” Zena turned to Tempest. “Good night, sis.”

  Tempest blinked glittering eyes at Zena. Her mouth made an O shape, but nothing came out.

  What just happened? He wanted to sleep with Tempest. Oh, did he ever, but not like this, with no bathroom, no space and comfy mattress, and nothing but thin nylon and twenty feet separating them from their “parents.” And it wasn’t sleeping he had in mind in this fantasy.

  Zena marched to the car. He leapt to his feet and followed, fear pounding through his blood. Zena pulled open the back door of the Ford. The car light flooded the jumble of bags and blankets. He wedged his body in close to hers as she shifted his duffel off the seat.

  “You expect me to sleep in that tent with just Tempest?” he whispered.

  She tugged her purse over. “You said brother and sister sleeping together is no big deal.”

  “She’s not my sister.”

  She looked over her shoulder at the woman sitting like a statue by the cold fire. She pulled a face. “What’s your deal? It’s just a few hours’ sleep. She’s not ugly or gross. It’s not like you haven’t had boy-girl sleepovers before.” She winked. “Stop being dramatic.”

  “I’ll sleep in the car. You should be the one to sleep in the tent with Tempest.”

  “You’re being sexist.”

  “I am not.”

  “They why should I be the one to sleep with her if it’s not because I’m a girl too?” She stopped looking through her purse and turned her intense gaze, red from the smoke, on him.

  Dammit. She was going into Zena-debate mode. He didn’t stand a chance to win this argument now.

  “I don’t want to sleep with some random woman out on the dirt,” she said. “I hate camping. And since this whole trip is your idea—”

  He flinched.

  “You get to share the tent with the stepsister.” She turned back to her purse, her shoulders set. Conversation over.

  Leo exhaled in defeat. His heart beat erratically as he found his toiletries, a flashlight, and a bottle of water. He stomped off into the woods. His nerves were still on fire when he returned. Tempest was spitting out toothpaste by the car, and Zena already lay rolled up across the backseat with her eye mask and noise-canceling headphones on. Tempest put her stuff away. She shivered in her sweatshirt. Without sun or fire, the temperature was dropping quickly. Tempest shut the trunk. The lights went out. She was a silhouette in the moonlight. Like they were in a dreamscape, they walked side by side to the tent. For something so small it seemed to loom like a mountain. He unzipped the opening and held back the flap for her. She smelled of woodsmoke as she crouched next to him.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered as she crawled inside.

  He couldn’t either. He exhaled. Once. Twice. This was not real. He just hadn’t decided if he was living in a dream or a nightmare.

  Chapter Ten

  The Two-Man Tent

  Tempest lay on the thin air-filled pad, hugging her ribs and blinking at darkness. Silvia had been thoughtful enough to provide small pillows. That was something nice. Leo zipped the tent closed. Sealing them in together. She was in the middle of nowhere in a tent with Leonard Allred. He crawled forward.

  “Sorry,” he muttered as his hand fumbled over her leg, feeling for his space.

  Desire awakened at his touch, at the darkness they shared like a secret. She pressed into the tent side to give him more room, but she had no space to give. He slumped to the ground next to her, the smell of campfire gusting up. His shoulder rested against hers. After lying on his delightful bed, she hadn’t imagined her first night sleeping with him to be on rocky ground. She wasn’t supposed to be dreaming of any nights with him. Especially not when he was right there, sharing these intimate shadows with her. The night chill had sunk through to her bones, and she wanted to curl into his warmth.

  “We stink,” she said.

  “That’s you.”

  “You stink too.” Her voice rose slightly.

  “Nah. It’s roses over here.” He shifted, his knuckles brushing across her thigh as he unfolded the fleece and spread it over the two of them.

  “One blanket.” Her voice came out a little hoarse.

  “Zena took the other one.”

  “Who do you think your mom forgot about when she was counting?”

  He didn’t answer. Which was answer enough, not that it wasn’t obvious from the moment Silvia stuck Tempest on the jump seat in the plane as an afterthought.

  “I shoul
d have just not come. She wouldn’t have noticed.” She didn’t mean for the hurt to come through in her tone, but it did hurt. Christopher didn’t have a whole bunch of children for Silvia to remember. Only two daughters. One. Two. She thought of her mom at that moment, and a pang of grief slashed through.

  “Shh.” Leo rolled on his side, facing her. “That’s not true.”

  His hand came up and touched her jaw. He gently coaxed her to face him. Her body readily obeyed, curling toward him. She couldn’t see his expression, but she could feel his closeness. His fingers slipped into her hair. His breath smelled of mint.

  “Forgive an old lady’s mistake.”

  She wanted him to kiss it better, but Silvia’s insult still melted away under his touch.

  “You would have been missed.” His voice was low. His hand had shifted to cup the base of her neck.

  Her body awakened. Her breath hitched. Her lower back arched, betraying her desire. Kiss me like last time. Her bottom lip curled between her teeth. She clamped her legs together. He had gone very still, but his breathing was too fast. They had all night confined in here together. But what would happen if they did kiss? Where would it lead? They couldn’t make noise with only these cloth barriers between them and their “parents.” What if someone came over? Talk about risk! And what about the morning when they remembered they were supposed to be brother and sister now? Sweat and smoke slicked her skin. She would have to stay in here with him no matter what happened, good or bad. She’d peed twice now without toilet paper. Oh, gross. And she wouldn’t have a bathroom to visit later to wash up either. His hand slipped forward and down, his fingers trailing sparks over her neck. His thumb traced her jaw. Nope. She rolled away from him, and he lifted his hand. Her tender skin prickled, wanting him back. She pulled the blanket up to her face, rubbing the fleece over her cheek.

  “Did you go camping growing up?” she asked.

  He shifted onto his back with a resigned exhale. “My best friend’s dad took me once with their family.”

  “That’s cool of them. How old were you?”

  “Nine.”

  “You didn’t get invited back?” Her voice was teasing.

  “No.” The word dropped like a stone.

  She swallowed.

  “I got diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia shortly after the trip, and I wasn’t up for much for a while after that.”

  Horror struck. Was he sick now? She tried to think if she’d said anything in the past that might have been offensive. “Leukemia? Like cancer?”

  “Yes. It was horrible. It almost killed me, but it didn’t. Obviously. And it’s the kind that doesn’t come back. I’m fine now.”

  The tightness in her chest gave way. She shifted a tiny bit closer to him, embarrassed at how relieved she was. “Good.” The word was heavy with sincerity.

  He chuckled.

  She elbowed him, heat rising to her face.

  “I get a little weird about germs sometimes. I was a total loser in high school. Wouldn’t touch anyone. Always carried hand sanitizer and cleaning wipes. I wiped down every desk I sat in. Every class period.”

  “Whoa.” That explained why he was a thorough and consistent hand washer, and she could eat off the floors of his house.

  “I spent a lot of nights and weekends on my computer.”

  “Well, that paid off.”

  “Yes, it did. Not such a loser now.” He said it with such arrogance she elbowed him again. He grabbed her elbow and was slow to let it go. “I’ve gotten a lot better in the last decade with the germophobia too.”

  “How often does the cleaner come to your house?” She had really been wanting to know.

  He chuckled. “Will you judge me if I say five times a week?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, but it was dark, so she quickly added, “But why not? It makes you happy, and it gives that person a job, and your house is amazing.”

  “Thanks.” The word came out so quiet and grateful and sincere that she almost gave in to the desire to kiss him. With one half body roll, she’d be on top of him. And in another half second…

  She changed the subject. “You haven’t been camping since age nine?”

  “Not sleeping in a tent. I went hiking often when I lived in Northern California. And we took a trip out to Yosemite and up through the redwoods, but we stayed in hotels.”

  “That’s the way to do it.”

  “You’re not loving this setup?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she lied. She rubbed her cold feet together. She should have brought wool socks, and her one sweatshirt wasn’t enough. In her defense, she thought she’d have a sleeping bag.

  Heavy silence struck, and she struggled with what to say. Blair would have known what to say, how to blow over any awkwardness. Tempest’s lips curled up. “What do you want to bet I can guess what you like to eat for breakfast on workdays?”

  “All right. Weird bet. But okay.”

  “What’s the wager?” Blair usually came up with those.

  “I’ll share my body heat with you if you get it right. And if you’re wrong, you have to warm me up.”

  “Naked?”

  He choked, coughing and laughing all at once.

  She bristled, her face burning. “It was unclear. I didn’t know if you were imagining those survival shows or something.”

  “I am now.”

  “And it wasn’t even a real wager.”

  “I’m really cold. And you’re shaking.”

  “You’re not much of a gambler, are you?”

  “It depends on the risk. And I’m not about to risk hypothermia tonight because my mom thought a blanket would suffice on December thirtieth, in the northern hemisphere.”

  She didn’t want to argue that. “You have a Protein Lover’s smoothie.”

  He chuckled. “Wrong.”

  “Ugh! I mean a Love Your Grains bowl.”

  “Right, but too late.”

  “I should have known Dean would pick the smoothie, not you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, come here.” He lifted his arm. “Warm me up and tell me how you turned into such a stalker.”

  She rolled under his wing. “He was in front of me in line at the juice shop once.”

  “Creepy good memory.”

  “It was a weird moment.” And she only remembered because she’d thought Dean was Leo, the man on whose chest she now rested her head. She really didn’t want to talk about that false start right now. She recoiled at how stalkerish she had acted. What would have happened if she met Leo for the first time at the meet-the-stepfamily Thanksgiving dinner? His hand stroked down her back. Would she still feel this same spark at his touch? Oh, sweet mama. “This feels so good.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered.

  She coughed on a laugh. Her body flushed with embarrassment and boldness. Had she said that out loud? And he’d agreed?

  “I’ll probably be missing this setup when I’m sleeping alone in a plush bed tomorrow,” he said.

  “Liar.” But pleasure tingled down her spine. She slipped her arm across his trim waist. His free hand found hers, and he held her hand over his pounding heart.

  She snuggled closer. She could enjoy this tonight. Just this one time.

  ****

  Leo woke to the sound of a baby crying and a dead arm. He and Tempest were spooning, and he’d augmented her small pillow with his bicep. He reluctantly lifted his other hand off the curve of her hip. Sunlight through the tent cast a creamy filter over her sleeping form. He could get used to waking up to this vision. They’d stayed awake most of the night, talking and cuddling. He’d been hoping more time with her would make these feelings pass. That’s what usually happened with women—at least so far that’s what had always happened. But now that he knew her better, he liked her—wanted her even more. Her body pressed against his had been sweet torture. And she’d kept moving to “get comfortable and warm,” she’d said. So many positions. She felt good from every
angle.

  He gently moved his arm from under her head and sat up. He closed his eyes on the sudden headache. Maybe they’d slept all of two hours? Maybe. This was the worst part of camping—the morning—when all he wanted was a shower, a toilet, and a hot breakfast. And he wouldn’t get any of those.

  Sneaky as a raccoon, he crawled out of the tent and put on the boots he’d left by the door. The sun hung low to the east and had done nothing to expel the cold. Benji and Jo and their kids were over by their car, looking destroyed. Zena was a lumpy log across the back seat of the Ford, and he saw no sign of Christopher or Mom. He trudged over to the Preston family.

  “Who wants to come with me to find breakfast?” His tongue felt like a cotton ball.

  “Yes.” Jo bounced the fussing baby.

  “Maybe we can find a McDonald’s with a play place,” Benji said, already herding his children toward the Honda CRV they’d rented.

  “I want a kid’s meal.” Hannah gave her father a commanding look before getting into the backseat.

  “I want seventeen coffees,” Jo said.

  Leo retrieved his toiletries and wallet from the other car. Zena remained as lifeless as a rock even when he shut the door next to her head. He joined the Prestons.

  “You sit up front.” Jo held up Harrison. “I want to be in the back with him.”

  Another day Leo might have put up a fight. This morning, he got in the front seat. He needed a toilet. How far were they from civilization?

  “How was your night?” Jo asked.

  He thought of Tempest’s body curled into his, the softness of her breast when she’d leaned on his arm. The heat of her thighs against him. “You had three kids with you. I feel like I can’t complain.”

  Jo laughed without mirth. “I like your mom, and I’m on board with this wedding, but I’m never doing that again.”

  “Fair enough,” Leo said.

  “It helped when the baby and I moved to the car.”

  Benji hit a rock, and the car bounced.

  Leo should have peed before he got on this ride.

  “I saw Zena had the same idea as I,” Jo said. “But I thought you would have slept in the car. Leave the two-man tent to the women. That was hilarious, by the way. Silvia forgot about Tempest.” Her laugh was full of pity and amusement—the sound of a big sister poking fun at a little sister.