Page 89 of Ten Hammers

“We are here,” he announces. “But do not take the blindfold off.”

Diesel helps me out, and he keeps a steady arm around me as leads me away from the truck. The air is heavy with the rich scent of earth and pine. The gravel gives way to leaves crunching beneath my feet as I’m guided into what I’m sure is a forest, or at least a heavily wooded area.

“We’re camping,” I say, glad the blindfold covers up my tears as memories of my childhood camping trips with the Hammer family flood my mind.

The aroma of wood smoke and roasted marshmallows, the crackling sound of the campfire, and the laughter echoing through the trees, were all core memories for me. Not to mention Anna’s makeshift kitchen, with the stunning view of a babbling brook, and the array of culinary delights prepared by the brothers as they scrambled to impress me with their cooking prowess. The taste of charred hot dogs and extra-gooey s’mores still lingers on my tongue.

And after our campfire dinner always came the games. They changed over the years as we grew from kids into teenagers, the raucous rounds of hide-and-seek giving way to intense poker games and Truth or Dare. Their playful competitiveness never failed to make me laugh.

Cuddled up under the stars together, watching the campfire snap and flicker until we were falling asleep in our blankets…

I used to live for camping weekends with the Hammers.

Sure, Gram had said the first time I asked her permission to go camping with them. With you gone at suppertime, I might actually get a bite.

After that, I rarely ate in front of Gram or my dad if I could avoid it, but it was like they competed to see who could tell the meanest weight-related joke sometimes.

I push thoughts of Gram and my father away. Thankfully, they haunt me less frequently, and when they do, their embarrassing criticisms grow easier to ignore.

Axel’s voice brings me back to the present. “Ready, Win?”

His fingers are where the blindfold is tied at the back of my head. I nod.

As Axel unveils the campsite, my eyes widen in awe. Inside a wide ring of trees, edged with glowing golden orbs and flickering lanterns, is a billowing white tent. It’s more Taj Mahal than traditional camping gear, and it sparkles inside and out with fairy lights.

Plush rugs lead to a circle of benches around the fire pit.

“What is this place?” I wonder aloud as curiosity pulls me toward the tent’s entrance. As I peek inside, my breath catches. The interior is a haven—a vast mattress, adorned with luxurious blankets and plush pillows. Soft, ambient lighting from star-shaped lanterns wash the space in a warm romantic aura. The thought of this intimate bedroom under the stars fills me with a warmth that spreads through my entire body. I’m ready to strip off my clothes and dive in, it looks so cozy.

And I might. There’s not a single other person, or camera in sight. My boys turned camping into a secret romantic fairy tale, and I feel more cherished than ever before.

I practically skip back toward them, and they all watch me with identical grins.

“Is this okay?” Axel asks.

“It’s better than okay,” I reply, my voice catching with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

“We just have to be back by noon tomorrow,” he tells me. “But we’ve got all night to do whatever you want.”

I glance at the tent entrance again, and shiver thinking about doing whatever I want inside it with three of my boys.

“Who’s up for a little skinny-dipping in the lake?” Cruz asks, starting to take off this shirt.

I catch a flash of abs. My mouth instantly waters.

Diesel, who is already unpacking things, tosses a bag of marshmallows at Cruz. “And I thought you were hungry.”

“Before we do anything else, we build a campfire,” Axel says.,

The triplets all seem to go caveman at that plan – the invention of fire still excites them – and not twenty minutes later, we’re sitting around the firepit, all of us gazing into the dancing flames.

Cruz and Diesel are manning the weenie-roasting skewers and I have my head on Axel’s shoulder. We’re holding hands.

“This is perfect,” I whisper to Axel and when he drops a kiss on my temple I marvel over the fact that I’ve managed to find perfect, when I didn’t even believe perfect existed.

“This one is yours, Peach,” Diesel says, handing the skewer to Cruz who passes it to me.

It looks delicious, smells even better… and I don’t know why but I’m suddenly shy about eating such a phallic shaped object in front of them.

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