"Corsica camp?" Penn snorted.
I punched him on the shoulder. "I told you I grew up hunting, camping, and fishing."
"Then you won't mind hearing my idea for your wedding," Alice interrupted. "I can imagine you standing under a sea-swept cypress tree. The ocean's your backdrop, the waves are part of your vows."
"She's already had a little wine," Xavier interjected.
Alice swatted his hand from her arm. "It will be beautiful. Then, you'll leave the shore and hike into the oak groves. We'll make a campsite far up above the fog line, just for you two."
"And our honeymoon will be all hiking and camping," Penn said.
"Dream on," I snorted.
Alice frowned. "Don't you want to talk wedding plans? Isn't it exciting?"
It was, but it was also too close to the useless daydreaming my mother had taught me as a child. Penn and I were not engaged and we would never be married. So, it hurt to imagine how wonderful it would be.
I felt a stab of guilt. We were feeding Alice a pleasant fairytale and all of a sudden, it didn't feel fair. "It just doesn't feel real," I said.
I was on the verge of telling her, but Alice held up her hands. "I know. I understand."
I worried that she really did. Did Penn's mother know we were putting a good show to make her happy?
Before I could pull Penn aside and share my worry, he whirled me into a wild dance around the bonfire. The rest of the evening melted into the long streaks of a slow sunset. The solstice was full of warmth and when Penn finally led me to a quiet place on the hill, I felt a sudden chill.
He wrapped an arm around me, but I shrugged it off. "I feel like walking," I said.
Penn's lips curved. "Good because there's somewhere I'd like to show you."
He pointed high up the hill, but I was glad for the quiet hike. I carried the pack that Penn had tossed me and concentrated on making the weight seem inconsequential. Still, I was relieved when Penn stopped at an old oak and pointed out the quiet grove.
I dropped my pack and looked up. "The stars are so much brighter," I sighed.
"We're above the fog line." Penn cleared a place and laid out two sleeping bags. "Think you can handle sleeping under the stars?"
I shivered at how close it was to the wedding night Alice envisioned. "We won't be able to see them if we make a fire."
"Then we'll just have to keep each other warm," Penn suggested. He relented when I rolled my eyes. "I also brought a tent if that would make you more comfortable. Want me to start a fire?"
I surprised us both by laying down on one of the sleeping bags. "We won't be able to see the stars if you start a fire."
"So you like it?" His voice hitched. "This has always been my favorite campsite. I can't tell you how many nights I’ve spent here with just a sleeping bag."
I stretched out and smiled. "I'd rather see the stars than the inside of a tent."
Penn frowned. "Corsica, it's just us. You don't have to pretend."
I raked two hands through my hair. "God, you really do think I'm shallow, don't you? It can't possibly be true that I like to camp and that I too want to sleep outside under the night sky."
He squatted down beside me. "I just think I was unfair to mix you up in all this, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
"Then lay down. You're making me nervous."
Penn stretched out next to me and I instantly felt the heat of his body. "I'm sorry about your mother," he said.
"Why me?" I asked, sitting up. "Why did you invite me home with you? Why did you ask me to come along?"
Now it was his turn to study the constellations above us. "I don't know. I appreciated your empathy and now I know why."
"That's not why you invited me home with you."
Penn smiled. "I did that because you're sexy in a stuck-up sort of way." He caught my hand before I could swat him.
"You're a challenge. I can't figure you out. But I still feel like I know you. Not that perfect and poised image you work so hard on, but the real you."
"Penn?" I asked, leaning over him. "Are you pretending?"
"No." He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger and tugged. "Are you?"
"I'm not pretending." I gave in to the gravitational pull of him.
Penn lifted up to meet my lips, his hand tangling deeper into my hair. His other hand swept up the side of my hip and curved along the small of my back. I pressed my body down against his hard contours and felt that hand slip further down. He gripped the back of my thigh and drew me over him.
I heard his breathing hitch over my own ragged moan when our bodies brushed at the most sensitive spot. "No more pretending," I whispered against his lips.
Penn sat up, encircling me in his arms, his kiss now devouring me as his hands tugged at my sundress. I rode the rising waves of pleasure, straddling his lap as my dress slipped up and over my head. His shirt followed and it still wasn't enough.
"I can't pretend," Penn moaned. "I want you too much."
I pried my hands off the hard flex of his shoulders and unclipped my bra. The heat of our bare skin brushing together was almost more than I could bear. I rubbed and pressed against him, wanting more.
"Corsica, please," Penn breathed against my bare neck.
I answered by falling back onto the sleeping bags and reaching my arms up to him. He covered me, muscles quivering, and when he pressed deep inside, I saw more stars than were in the sky.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Penn - 14
The whole night flashed through my mind again as I woke up. No wonder I thought it was a dream. But Corsica's smooth skin was still pressed against mine, her soft hair spilling over my shoulder. We were tucked in together, the two sleeping bags zippered together into one. I could feel the sunlight starting to filter through the oak branches, but I didn't want to believe it.
Why did last night have to be the shortest night of the year? I asked myself.
The summer solstice had been a blur of feasting and fire, dancing and celebrating. The only things I could really focus on were the memories of Corsica's delicious lips and her body opening beneath me.
I groaned and pried open one eye. It hadn't been a dream. She was still tucked against me, her face buried against my neck.
I stopped breathing. I wanted to curse the sun for rising and the soft breeze for blowing because I didn't want to wake her. Corsica sighed in her sleep and her fingers curled on my chest. Underneath her light hand, my heart hammered and I couldn't believe the drumming didn't wake her up. I knew once she woke up, she would snap out of her solstice trance and demand to be taken back to civilization.
Corsica wouldn't be content with the savory smells of campfire breakfast that wafted up the hill. She'd be embarrassed by her tousled appearance and ready to get back to modern conveniences. I could already imagine her griping about the tangles in her hair.
I lightly plucked a few blades of grass out of her blonde strands and smiled to myself. I wasn't in any hurry to see her wake up.
Instead, I laid back and thought over the night. There was a tight pull in my chest as I remembered the psychic. Some perceptions old Tabitha had, I scoffed. She didn't even notice that our whole engagement was an act.