Page 12 of It Started at the Lake

“I’ll take a rain check.”

“Why?” Wasn’t she the one who said she wanted a tour?

CHAPTER 8

Camille

No, I do not want a tour. That means spending more time in Bennett’s company where I have made an absolute fool out of myself all because he mentioned his chiseled chest. A chest with muscles so defined, I might be able to name the different muscle groups. A chest I snuck way too many glances at in the hot tub.

“I’m feeling pretty beat from today.” I slowly inch my way to the door I came in through, ready to be free of Bennett and his gorgeous smile that makes my heart soar like a kite. “Have a nice night.” Waving awkwardly, I spin, ready to bolt.

“Let me at least show you the best place in the backyard. I like to go there for some peace and quiet. I have a feeling you might need that after a few days of being around the family.”

For someone who got offended when I offered to stay with him, he’s not acting like he’s in a hurry to get rid of me now. Though my bed and journal are calling my name, I say, “Sure.”

Bennett’s eyes widen in surprise before a quick flash of what I think is relief takes over before morphing into a polite, friendly smile. “You might want to grab a jacket. Do you remember how to get to your room? Or would you prefer to borrow a sweater from the coat closet?”

Do I remember how I got here? I walked along the ridiculously long hallway, down the stairs, and then turned right, but did I take a left when I passed the library, ballroom, and formal dining room to get to the kitchen, or was the library to the right? My brow furrows as I concentrate on the maze that got me here, but I’m stuck at that turn. “A jacket from down here would be nice.”

Getting back to my room after the backyard might be a disaster, but I won’t ask Bennett for help. I’ll just sleep in whatever corner of the house I find myself in. Or send Evie a text and tell her where to find me so she can escort me when she gets home. It’ll be a grownup version of Marco Polo.

Bennett leads me out of the kitchen, down a hallway to the right, before turning to the left where another short hallway empties into the grand foyer. The one that took my breath away when Evie and I brought our bags in. The crystal chandelier must have cost a fortune. A round table with fresh flowers sits in the middle of the entryway. Sweeping staircases go up both sides.

Rainbows sparkle through the crystal chandelier onto the walls. A massive painting of the ocean hangs to my left. I’m so caught up in the enormous waves that make me feel like I’m about to drown, I don’t notice Bennett asking me a question.

“Millie?”

I turn, facing Bennett who holds a large black zip-up hoodie in one hand and a red windbreaker in the other. “Which do you want?”

I point to the hoodie. “Whose jacket am I stealing, and will they mind?” Questions I should have asked already.

He shrugs. “These have been here for a few years. They won’t mind.”

Great, so I get a moth-eaten, ratty old hoodie? I step closer to make sure I’m not about to wear something that might have spiders nesting in it. Upon closer inspection, the sweater looks new. There’s no wretched smell radiating from it. No rips or tears. Of course, they wouldn’t keep a nasty jacket around like my family would. What am I thinking?

Sliding my hands through the armholes, I pull on the hoodie and zip it up to my chest. The hem hangs mid-thigh and the sleeves completely cover my hands. I’m sure I look ridiculous, but I’m cozy and it’s best I’m reminded that Bennett is supposed to be like a brother to me, and feeling frumpy is a good way to accomplish that.

I tug up the jacket, freeing my fingers. A hint of evergreen, sea salt, and sandalwood engulfs me. When Bennett turns his back, I lift the sweater up to my nose and inhale. Ooooh, that’s intoxicating in the best way possible.

Bennett snags a different jacket and a flashlight from the top shelf of the closet, then opens the front door.

I point behind me. “Aren’t we going to the backyard?”

“We are. We’ll go around the side of the house.”

I slide on my sandals I left by the front door. Bennett gestures for me to step onto the porch ahead of him. Stuffing my hands in my front hoodie pockets, I wait for Bennett to close the door and lead the way. For most houses, going around isn’t a big deal. I’m in for a marathon with how massive this place is.

Bennett keeps his pace slow, allowing me to keep up and stay within the illuminated path shining on the grass from the flashlight he’s holding in his hand. A slight breeze tickles my cheeks. I pull my zipper up as far as it will go. Damp earth and brine take over the scent of the hoodie I’m wearing the closer we get to the lakeshore.

“Dog or cats?” I blurt, not liking the silence.

“Dogs. You?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. We didn’t have pets growing up. I haven’t been around either animal enough to form an opinion.”

Bennett eyes me, but in the dark I can’t read his expression. “Huh.”

I continue the game. “Sweet or salty?”

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