Chapter 13
M ac stood behind the counter at the lodge, sorting through a stack of winter weather predictions from different news sources. He averaged it out and made a note to Beckett when the door creaked open.
Jetter stepped in, cheeks flushed, knees dirty, and hair a mess, and Lauren followed close behind.
His gut tightened. Instead of a sexy sundress, she looked similar to his son.
Her knees were dirty, her hair was a mess, but she also had tight shorts that hugged her curves without hiding them and a short shirt on that barely touched the top of her shorts.
He wondered how her breasts stayed inside.
Yeah, sure, they were covered. But it would take nothing for him to slip his hands underneath the hem of her shirt and have access to—
"Hey, Dad?" Jetter dropped his pack by the door. "Can Lauren come to dinner?"
Mac looked up, eyes flicking between them. Warning bells went off. If Lauren thought she could go through his son to spend time with him, she was wrong. She needed to keep his son out of what happened between them.
He wasn't going to have a repeat of that night, even if it was the best sex he'd ever had.
"Your mom might give dinner parties, son. I don't."
Jetter groaned. "Come on, Dad. Just this once? Please?"
He could count on one hand how many times Jetter had begged for something. Usually, it was for a game console for his mom's house or a new motorcycle for the summer. It was never to invite someone to dinner.
Lauren raised a hand, already backing away. "It's okay. I'm not here for an invite. I just wanted to make sure Jetter arrived back at the campground okay."
She turned to the boy, crouching slightly to meet his eyes. Her voice softened. "Thank you again. I'll never forget what you did. You're very brave."
Jetter smiled, a little bashful, and hugged her without hesitation. Mac watched the moment unfold, something tight pulling in his chest. The kid missed his mom. That's all.
Lauren was a paying camper. She didn't belong here.
Mac cleared his throat. "You hike all the way up to the ridge?"
Lauren stood, running her hands down her hips. "I did. I took a day to explore. No cameras. No phone. Just me and a bear."
Mac's brows lifted. "A bear?"
"She handled it," Jetter said proudly. "Sort of."
Lauren smiled. "Your son's the real hero."
Mac looked at Jetter, then at her. She was dirty from a day in the wilderness, eyes bright from the excitement. He relaxed. Whatever had happened on the mountain, she'd experienced it with his son. They were both safe and alive. For that, he appreciated her bringing Jetter back to the lodge.
Lauren smiled. "I'll head back to my cabin. I hope you both have a wonderful evening."
She didn't linger. Didn't push.
Just smiled once more at Jetter, then slipped out the door, leaving behind the sweetest scent.
Mac watched her go, the silence settling heavy around him.
And for the first time in a long while, he wondered what it would feel like to let someone stay.
Mac glanced at his son. Jetter's shoulders were defeated. He'd tried to have her stay and share dinner with them. It meant something to him.
He looked at Lauren stepping outside the lodge. Her pleasant reaction to the awkward situation made him speak before he could second-guess himself.
"I was gonna throw some venison on the campfire," he said. "If you want to stay. Jetter would like that."
She paused, turned slightly, and gave a small smile. "I'd love to. If it's no trouble."
Mac shrugged. "It's meat and a flame. Not much trouble."
Outside, the sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the clearing in front of the lodge. Putting his work away, he lifted his chin at Avaline, who'd taken the conversation in without any comment.
"Have a good evening," he said.
"You, too, Mac." Avaline followed him to the door. "See you tomorrow, Jetter."
"See ya." Jetter bounced as he waved above his head, already anxious to head to the cabin.
His son and Lauren kept up a steady stream of conversation as they reached the cabin. Mac went to the sink, washed up, and got out enough venison steaks and potatoes for the three of them out of the freezer that ran on propane.
Lauren broke away from Jetter while he went to the bathroom. "How can I help?"
"No need. Visit with my son." He carried everything outside.
Lauren followed him, staying back as he lit the fire. Once it was going good, he put the foil-wrapped potatoes in the coals and the steaks on the wire rack above the flames.
Jetter ran out and sat on the log beside Lauren. He could feel her presence behind him, but she didn't speak to him. Not once.
Instead, she sat cross-legged beside Jetter, her attention entirely on the boy.
"What's it like living here?" she asked. "Do you ever get bored?"
Jetter laughed. "Never. There's always something happening. Last week, a raccoon stole someone's hiking boot. Just one."
Lauren grinned. "Did it wear it?"
"Dad says it probably used it as a snack bowl."
She peppered him with questions about the trails, the wildlife, the campers who came and went. Jetter lit up, talking about the time he saw a bobcat, the secret swimming hole, the way the stars looked from the ridge on clear nights.
Jetter scooted closer to her. "What did you do in the city when you were my age?"
"Hm." Lauren tapped her chin. "Rode my bike, begged to play with other kids, popped tar bubbles."
"What's that?" Jetter laughed. "I've never heard of that game."
"It's not really a game." She laughed. "Well, maybe it was.
When the road crews resurfaced the county road in front of our house, the workers placed black tar down and then dumped gravel on top.
But on the really hot summer days, the tar would get soft and bubble up between the rocks.
I'd pop them with my feet and black goo would flow out.
" She giggled louder. "My mom used to get so mad at me because the tar ruined the bottom of my sneakers. "
"But it's fun?"
"It wasn't that exciting." She sighed. "I was bored a lot as a kid. I guess I had to come up with ways to entertain myself."
"You didn't have any friends?" asked Jetter.
"Oh, sure. At school I did, but in the summertime, I had to stay home because my parents are both doctors. We didn't have neighbors close enough for me to play with."
Mac flipped the venison, listening quietly. The fire crackled, smoke curling into the dusk. He'd never seen Jetter talk so much. And he'd never seen someone listen to him the way Lauren did with genuine interest, not polite nods.
Dinner was simple. He served meat, bread, and roasted potatoes. Lauren ate slowly, still asking Jetter questions between bites. Mac barely spoke. He didn't need to. She hadn't come to have dinner with him.
When the plates were cleared and the fire burned low, she stood and brushed off her shorts. He took the time to ogle her thighs. Thick. Tight. Big enough to cradle his body.
"Thanks for dinner," she said, looking at Mac briefly. "I can now mark 'eat venison' off my to-do-list. It was excellent."
Then she turned to Jetter. "You're lucky, you know. This place is magical."
Jetter beamed. "I know."
Lauren gave him a quick hug, then walked off toward her cabin. After he sent Jetter in for a quick bath to wash the day's dirt off him, Mac stayed by the fire watching the last flicker of flame die. The night chill settled in his chest.
He hadn't expected her to stay.
And now, he wasn't sure what to do with the feeling of disappointment now that she was gone.