Page 64 of Lady and the Camp
Bare arms held me to him. He’d ditched his shirt. Water droplets clung to his beard, dripping off slowly one by one. So close, so close. “Yes,” I said in a near whisper.
“Yes, what? A dunk?” His voice came low and deep, almost a growl. Not an angry or annoyed growl. This was something else.
My gaze fixated on him. Trails of water marked his smooth skin under the glow of stars and moonlight. “Not a dunk.”
He swung one arm to the edge of the boat where a ladder dipped into the water. With the other arm, he pulled me even closer until our legs entwined. Then he tipped his head and met his lips with mine.
I may have blacked out. Somehow, Lucas and I ended up back in the boat, on the bench seat, kissing. My mind flashed to when we’d been in the water, also kissing. Moments ago—seconds, minutes?
I wasn’t sure what was hotter: being cold in the lake kissing or freezing out of the water, kissing.
His hands were present, but not groping. His lips firm, deliberate, and intentional. Once he knew I was in, he didn’t hold back.
I slid a hand along his chest to his shoulder. Strong, lean muscle met my touch. I managed to pull apart from him. My heart, my breath, my head. So many sensations hit at once.
He looked me over with mild alarm. “Are you okay? Is this okay? You seemed into it and then—”
“I’m just cold.” And disoriented. I’d never experienced actual dizziness from a kiss. I could sense the fading impression of his lips against mine. I wanted that feeling again. I eased him toward me and kissed him. Gentle, but assuring.This is okay. I want this.
This was the most sure I’d felt about anything in weeks.
We separated again, looking at each other as if for the first time. He laughed. I laughed.
“You have avoidance issues,” he said.
I blinked water from my lashes. “What? You kiss me like that and you tell me I have issues?”
“You’d rather dunk yourself in cold lake water than talk about your life plans,” he murmured close to my cheek. “You’d rather kiss your temporary camp boss than deal with reality.”
Okay, I definitely didn’t like this conversation trajectory. “Yeah, so what?” A comeback for the ages. He released his grasp, but I didn’t move far. “I like kissing you.” Shoot, was I supposed to admit that? Out loud?
He grinned. “I like kissing you too.”
“Why do you think I’m treating this like a distraction? Just because I wasn’t planning on kissing you doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. I didn’t plan to become a skincare influencer. It happened because I was good at it so I kept going and that’s where I landed.”
Something about my own words struck me in a new way. This wasn’t a new revelation, but the concept, the shape of the words, felt new. I wanted to save a career I’d never purposefully intended. When my YouTube caught attention from thousands of followers, I took it as a sign of success. The next step was to monetize the account. Then look for brands to rep. Grow the brand. Add in a business Instagram account focused on beauty content, branded to fit in with the trends, and I had a thing. A real thing.
As I built my Beauty Butterfly brand, each step brought me closer to earning respect from my family. If millions of strangers could recognize my talent, surely my own parents and siblings could.
That drive had somehow morphed into L.A. celebrity obsessions and dating a larger-than-life figurehead like Kristoff. Now, that life seemed like old content. Like a social media profile I abandoned and no longer used.
That’s not what I want.
The thought grew louder, clearer.That’s not what I want. I don’t want that life.
I’d already told Lucas I didn’t want to live in Los Angeles. I wasn’t sure I even wanted another brand ambassadorship. After all, I never liked playing by other people’s rules.
But if that was true, I had a problem. It left me with one very big unanswered question, and dozens and hundreds of smaller questions to follow.
I blinked to the present. Lucas watched me. He had lovely brown eyes and jealousy-inducing lashes. It was a crime how long those lashes reached for a guy who’d presumably never once used a serum. “I’m a mess, huh?”
He grazed a hand across my cheek, sending a cool shiver down my spine. “Maybe a little. But so am I. You’re right, if I really cared about the camp, I’d be recruiting a full-time director to replace me to ensure its success. Not simply riding out my time.”
Now we were getting somewhere. And doing so sexily.
I could handle life planning if it involved slow kisses and cheek caresses from this mountain man. Never mind no mountains. I’d follow this guy into the woods.
“Stand up a sec,” he said.
