I glare down at Polland. “I do.” No sense in denying it now. Especially not after last night.
Eyes widening almost comically, he takes the metal sheet from me and sets it on the ground beside him. “I’m sorry, what?”
“She’s different now.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “You two getting along better then?” he asks, and I grin.
“You could say that.”
“Shit, dude, did you really sleep with her?”
I climb down the ladder and lift the metal sheet, carrying it over to the pile leaning up against the side of the cabin. “I would say that information falls under none of your fucking business.”
“Son of a bitch! You are!”
“Are what?” Keith asks, coming to stand beside us.
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting the rest of the shutters down on cabin two?”
“Well, yeah, but this conversation looks much more interesting than overhearing Megan tell Amber what kind of white she’s going to wear for your wedding.” He fakes a shiver, and I roll my eyes.
“There is more than one kind of white?” Polland asks, brows scrunched together.
“Apparently, there are four hundred and ninety-four.”
“There’s no fucking way,” Polland says.
“Well, according to the ass-chewing I just got for daring to interject into something I don’t understand, there are. But be my guest if you want to argue with them about it.” He gestures to where his wife and Polland’s fiancée are standing.
That’s not where my gaze goes though. No, mine travels over to Kleo again. As if she can feel me watching her, she turns and smiles, and it’s no longer the sun lighting up my world. As corny as it sounds—and believe me, I know it sounds corny as hell—it’s Kleo.
“Looks like you two are getting along,” Keith comments.
“Oh, they’re more than getting along. They’re fucking.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl, whirling on him.
“Woah, woah, woah! You’re sleeping together? As in naked, same bed?”
“How else are you supposed to sleep with someone?” Polland asks. “Dude, if you aren’t naked, you’re doing it wrong.”
“We’re seeing each other.” I have no interest in divulging anything else, so, to prove my point and because I fucking want to do it, I walk away from them and straight over to Kleo. I can feel everyone watching me, and I just can’t bring myself to care.
She’s not a dirty little secret, and Judson already knows.
“Hey you,” she greets, turning to face me.
I don’t say anything, just cup the back of her neck and pull her against me. Lips together, our tongues tangle as I deepen the kiss, her fingers gripping my arms. She tastes so fucking good, and if it weren’t for the onlookers, I’d carry her inside for a repeat of last night.
Pulling away, I look into her dazed expression, a stupid smile on my face as catcalls and “Woohoos” erupt from behind us. She grins, a lopsided, amused smirk.
“Guess that’s out in the open.” She pulls me back down to her mouth, and I cradle her against me, letting the rest of the world fade away around us.
“Well, I’d have to say this is an interesting turn of events.”
Fuck me. I pull away from Kleo, straightening and wrapping an arm around her waist as we face off with her dad. Al stares at us, eyebrow raised, hands on his hips. “Hey, Mr. Turner,” I say, clearing my throat and looking past him at Polland and Keith, who look like they’re about to fall over from laughing so hard. Dickheads.
“Kleo?”
“Yes, Dad?”
“When did this happen?”
“Last night,” she answers easily as if she’s not the least bit bothered her dad just caught us making out.
I, on the other hand, feel like my nuts just crawled back up into my body.
“Haven’t had a chance to talk to you and Mom yet.”
“Well,” he says, crossing both arms and glaring at me. “I’d like to see you two at dinner tonight.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer quickly, and Kleo stifles a laugh.
“Great.” Al claps his hands together. “How’s the damage?”
“Not bad.” I jump at the opportunity to talk about something—anything—else, so for the next ten minutes, I walk him around the camp, telling him about the various issues that have popped up since the storm last night. Luckily, other than some chipped wood, garbage, and a few downed trees, it’s not much.
“Think you need more time before we open the camp back up?”
I shake my head. “We’ll be more than ready to go next week.”
“Good. See you tonight.” With that, he turns and heads back to his car, pausing by Kleo to give her a quick kiss on her forehead.
Mortified, I turn away and reach down to lift a plastic bottle from the ground near the wood line where we have a palm tree that didn’t quite make it through the storm. Never in my life have I been caught by my girlfriend’s father while I had my tongue down her throat. Wait, girlfriend? Is that what she is to me now?
I glance back at where she’s laughing with Amber and Megan. Yeah. I’d say that’s definitely a conversation we need to have because now that I’ve had her—there’s no way in hell I’m sharing her with anyone else.
Moving closer to the trees, I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye. Curious, I walk further inside. It’s not unusual to have lookie loos here at the camp. I’ve had to kick more than one teen off the property who tried to sneak on when they weren’t actually part of the group.
When I get just inside the trees, I turn in a slow circle. Sun shines down on the grove, casting spots of light that sneak through the canopies. There’s no one anywhere in sight, so I’m turning to head back in when light reflects off something, sending a beam glaring right into my damn eye.
Kneeling beside one of the trees bordering the main campgrounds, I brush some dirt away and lift a mirror shard about the size of my palm. “What the hell?” We’ve had plastic, paper, the occasional lawn chair blow in with the storm, but a piece of broken mirror? I’d say this is a first. Shaking my head, I palm the mirror and carry it over to the large dumpster behind the bleachers before joining Polland and Keith to finish removing the shutters from the cabins.
Kleo
“I thought you were going to pass out,” I joke as I slip into a yellow sundress with bright red blooms along the base.
“I might have,” Dean calls from his room down the hall.
We’ve been talking like this ever since we both got out of the shower ten minutes ago. And yes—I said both. Admittedly. It took a bit longer to get clean when neither of us wanted to keep our hands to ourselves.
How can I though? How could I keep to myself when Dean is a magnet, drawing me closer and closer?
The tenderness of his hands as he’s touching me.
The sensual kisses he trails along my skin.
Dean devours me—body and soul.
It’s a damned surprise we got out of bed at all today. He peeks his head into my room, eyes widening when he gets an eyeful of my dress. I turn in a slow circle, enjoying the way his hungry gaze watches me, eating up every single move I make.