Mike was behind a thick, old oak as the words floated through the air, forcing him to peek around it, shocked to see Caleb two trees away, clearly hearing the same pieces of conversation. The women were walking toward them, so their words became clearer. Judging by their direction, they'd cross right in front of both men, but if they hid just right, Lydia and Krysta couldn't see them.
Caleb held his finger up over his lips in a shhhhh gesture.
Mike nodded.
“Maybe Zach is how you get over Caleb,” Lydia said, the words clear and bright.
Caleb's eyes damn near popped out of his head.
“Maybe,” Krysta said, sounding unconvinced. “I've dated other guys. None of them made me forget Caleb.”
“My stupid brother. Why won't he make a move?”
“Because he's not interested, Lydia. How many times have I told you this over the years?”
Years? Caleb mouthed, looking increasingly horrified.
Mike shot him a smug look that screamed, I told you so.
Caleb flipped him the bird in response, or at least that was Mike's guess. Hard to tell when you wore winter gloves as thick as a catcher's mitt.
“He's interested. I know my brother. Apparently, though, he lacks the balls to try with you.”
Caleb looked down at his crotch and frowned.
“I think I'm just too deep in friend territory.” Krysta sighed. “I spent all these years trying to be friendly. Helpful. Be in places where he was, drop in at Jeddy's and pitch in, all that. I thought he'd see me. Really see me. Guess I was wrong.”
Pain filled Caleb's face as he closed his eyes, body radiating regret and longing.
Poor guy, Mike thought to himself, though he didn't understand Caleb at all. Not even a tiny bit. When Mike wanted something, he went for it.
And when he wanted someone, he went for Lydia. And he damn well got her.
All of her.
And now, maybe more.
Eyes drifting to her belly, Mike half-listened, half-dreamed. A son? A daughter? What would life be like if they had kids together? Sandy and Pete would be thrilled to have a grandchild who lived at the campground. Already designed for families, in the summer and fall the place bustled with children's activities, crawling with kids nonstop, the energy positive and infectious.
Lydia slipped her arm into Krysta's elbow, and they went quiet, their bodies turning to the left and out of sight. He knew they were headed for their cabin.
Once they were out of earshot, Caleb walked over to Mike, looked him straight in the eye, and said, “You're right.”
“Of course I am.”
“Modest, too.”
“What's with all the modest comments?”
“Just because you're right doesn't mean you need to shove my face in it. Also, what're you doing out here?” Caleb looked down at Mike's feet, the cross-country skis strapped on.
“Running some tracks. You?”
“Took that bag of kindling to your cabin Jeremy asked for.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Hey!”
Speak of the devil. Jeremy loped on over to them, long legs easily moving through the snow, hands stuffed in his parka pockets.
“Thanks for the kindling,” he called out to Caleb, who waved him over.
“What's up?” Jeremy asked, pinging between the two of them, clearly picking up on a subtext.
“Talking about how we overheard Krysta saying how she has a thing for Caleb but he lacks the balls to do anything about it.”
“HEY!” Caleb protested.
Jeremy just nodded and said, “Why don't you offer her a ride back to Boston? Ask her to help you with the tree at Jeddy's? Set it up, get some tips from her on arranging it. Maybe offer to do some holiday promo to benefit the autism foundation your sister helps with.”
Caleb grunted. “You think that could work?”
“I think you could toss the woman a piece of chocolate and call that a date and she'd jump at the chance. Are you really that clueless?” Mike ground out.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Ever since the first time I saw you and Krysta together, it was blazingly obvious she likes you. What are you two – twelve? Go for it. Sleep with her.”
“She's dating someone else!”
“Only because you spent years not dating her. A woman's got needs. She found someone else to fill them.”
“I heard her asking Lydia for threesome advice.”
Mike and Jeremy stopped cold.
“She... what?”
“Lydia said to her, and I quote, 'If you're curious about how threesomes work, just go watch some porn.'”
Jeremy pondered that for a second, then said, “She not wrong...”
Mike hit him, hard. “Nothing we do together is anything like those low-production-value films you insist on using as your personal spank bank.”
“HEY!” Caleb barked. “You're talking about my sister! Cut it out.”
“Sorry,” Jeremy muttered.
“You can interpret that threesome comment from Krysta in plenty of ways,” Mike scoffed, though his interest was certainly piqued. Changing the subject away from Lydia was critical, though. Caleb wasn't the only overprotective brother Lydia had.
“Has Krysta ever given any indication that she's a threesome kind of person?” Mike inquired, knowing damn well from Lydia that she wasn't.
“No,” Caleb admitted.
“Then go for it. Ask her out.”
“Worst case, you end up in a threesome,” Jeremy muttered, earning a glare from Mike and Caleb.
“No offense, guys,” Caleb shot back, palms in the air. “Not my thing.”
“No offense taken,” Mike replied. “And you still should ask Krysta out.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“Because it is, Caleb. You think you blew your shot. Maybe you did. But maybe you still have time. Don't be one of those guys who always wonders. Be the guy who knows.”
“What if all I know is that she rejects me?”
“Then you know. Then the uncertainty is gone. Then you move on.”
“I hate this.”
“Really?”
“Don't you?”
“Don't I what?”
“Hate rejection?”
“Why do you assume she'll reject you? And for the record, no. I don't hate rejection. Rejection is clarity. What I hate is confusion.”
“I'm nothing but confused.”
“And that's why you need to act.”
Shoulders dropping with a long sigh, Caleb stared out into the woods, blinking slowly. “You're right,” he said again.
“Of course I am.”
“Modest, too.”
“I see you and Lydia have been talking.”
Caleb's deep laughter left Mike on edge. “When I'm in the kitchen, I'm a rock. I know what I need to do and I do it. Women, though... they're nothing like the kitchen.”
“Sure they are. Touch the grill in the wrong place and you get burned. Mix the wrong ingredients and the meal is ruined. Time the courses wrong and the dinner's a fail.”
“Are we talking about food or sex?”