Chapter 4 #2
He mimes hat removal. We divide into teams. The Hobbits versus the Elves. I’m a Hobbit and Charlie is an Elf.
I quickly learn he wasn’t kidding about his innate abilities. He lands every ring he tosses.
“He’s a ringer,” someone shouts.
Still, his team loses when Angela tosses her ring past Mordor.
It rolls across the grass and lands in a firepit.
I expect sour grapes from Charlie, but he’s a surprisingly good sport and tells us “good game.” I wonder if it’s part of the ruse or if he genuinely doesn’t mind.
I hate that I can’t tell when a man is faking feelings. I ought to be an expert by now.
I consider the earlier suggestion to test the limits of Charlie’s commitment to LandStar. Suddenly it seems like the best idea I’ve ever heard.
“You know what, Charlie? You should sign up for Hero 101.”
“Why that one?”
“Because deep down all men long to be heroes. Here’s your big chance to act out the fantasy.”
Charlie seems to mull it over. “Okay. Count me in.”
“Wow. I didn’t think it would that easy to convince you.”
“I already have the hair,” he says, dragging a hand through dark blond locks. “Might as well go all in.”
“Already have the ego, too,” I mutter.
Charlie pulls out the schedule. “Where’s Hero 101? I don’t see it.”
I tap the paper. “The area between the lake and the arts and crafts cabin. I’ll walk with you.”
“You don’t have to babysit me. I’m sure I can find it.”
“And miss out on the pleasure of your company? What kind of hostess would I be?”
Although we smile at each other, the tension between us is palpable and it isn’t the good kind. It’s the kind that says, ‘I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me, but let’s pretend otherwise.’
“What’s up with the guy in the Darth Vader costume?” he asks, as we stride across the campground.
I hold up a finger. “While Adam may technically be dressed as a certain famous Sith Lord, he likes to refer to himself as the Original Shadow Daddy.”
Charlie shoots me a quizzical look. “Why?”
“Legal reasons.”
“I mean why Original Shadow Daddy? What does that even mean?”
I pat his arm. “Oh, you sweet summer child. It’s nice to know we have something to teach an educated man like you.”
The group is already assembled by the time we reach the area.
It’s many of the same campers from ring toss with the addition of Hunter and John.
Hunter is easy to identify because he wears a camouflage pattern every single day.
Different outfits. Always traditional camo.
John, on the other hand, is hard to identify unless you know him.
He has that kind of thin, pale appearance that makes you think he might have the ability to walk through walls.
“We need three judges,” I announce.
“We already have two of them,” Hunter replies, motioning between he and Bradley.
Angela raises her hand and wiggles her fingers. “Consider me the Russian judge. Anything less than absolute ten out of ten perfection and it’s a five from me.”
Charlie visibly shudders. “She and my father would get along famously.”
I clap my hands. “Participating heroes, take your places.”
Charlie shifts from foot to foot. “What’s the first test?”
My smile is sticky sweet. “Take your spot and find out, hero.” I point to a sturdy oak tree.
“Those broad shoulders would make Captain America weep,” Angela murmurs.
As much as I want to, I can’t argue with her.
His shoulders nearly span the breadth of the huge trunk.
He looks—dare I say it—hot. I immediately repent by mentally referring to him as Charles Xavier, except it occurs to me that I also find Charles Xavier dangerously attractive. Abort mental mission! Abort!
A few other campers line up as well, including Olivia. I toss a questioning glance at Ben, who simply nods.
“A key characteristic of a hero is the ability to withstand level-ten damage.” Stefan turns to Gloria. “Release the hounds.”
The ‘hounds’ are tennis balls. Gloria switches on the machine and balls start flying, mainly at Charlie. They pelt his limbs, and one narrowly misses his groin.
“Thank goodness,” Angela breathes.
Finally, he jumps aside and lets the remaining balls hit the tree. “Heroes have to demonstrate agility, too, right?”
Angela fans herself with a large leaf. “On a scale of Chris Hemsworth to Chris Pratt, that was a Chris Pine.”
“What about Chris Evans?” Charlie asks, seemingly ready to plead his case. The lawyer in him is stronger than the Force.
“Not even close, my dude,” Stefan says. “You don’t have America’s ass.”
“He is America’s ass,” I say under my breath.
Olivia waves her hands from her place in front of a tree. “Can we do it again? Nothing hit me.”
“You bruise too easily,” Ben tells her gently. “I can’t send you home looking like a plum.”
Her face crumples.
“You can do the next one,” I say. “It involves balance.”
She perks up. “Oh, I’m good at that. I did gymnastics until last year.”
“How about you, Charlie?” I ask. “Any gymnastics in your illustrious background?”
“No, but I dated a gymnast. Does that count?”
Angela pins him with a come-hither stare. “But could she suck her own toes?”
“Gross,” Olivia says. “Who would want to do that?”
“No one,” Ben answers quickly. “Absolutely no one.”
Over the next half hour, the heroes perform feats of balance and strength.
At one point, I realize I’m ogling Charlie’s biceps as they strain under the weight of the tree branch.
Those muscles deserve a little hero worship, no doubt about it, but I’m not the one willing to play acolyte.
Olivia then complains she’s being treated like a child until she’s given the chance to lift the same branch as Charlie.
After that, she’s more than happy to partake in the kid version.
I notice Angela inching closer to the dock. The next thing I know, she flips over a kayak and pushes it into the water. “Hurry! There’s a kitten on top of an overturned kayak in the water. What do you do?”
“Why would a kitten be on a kayak?” he asks.
“It’s roleplaying. That means roll with it!” Angela shoos him forward. “This Russian judge wants to see him shirtless.”
But Charlie doesn’t do her the favor of ripping off his shirt. The only articles he’s willing to remove are his socks and shoes, which he sets carefully on the grass away from the water’s edge.
“What are you doing?” Hunter yells. “That kitten is drowning, man.”
Charlie turns to address him. “My shoes are Gucci. I can’t get them wet. They’ll be ruined.”
A collective groan follows his declaration.
“Give him an F!” John shouts. I swear it’s the loudest declaration he’s ever made.
“Touch grass,” Olivia adds with disdain.
“We don’t really assign grades for performance, you know that,” I say.
“Sex with you must be very lackluster,” Angela replies. “If you don’t give feedback, how will they ever improve?”
My cheeks burn and I pray Charlie didn’t hear her comment.
“What’s that about lackluster sex?” he asks.
Terrific. Now I want to melt into a puddle and evaporate into the earth. “Just rescue the kitten on the kayak, hero.”
Charlie wiggles his toes as he wades into the water. “I can’t remember the last time I walked outside in bare feet. This actually feels good.”
“What about the beach?” I ask.
“I have water shoes.”
“Well, at least you know he wears condoms,” Angela murmurs.
Heat flames my face. I swear the woman is trying to set me on fire.
Charlie retrieves the kayak and pulls it to shore, although now his clothes are soaking wet, offering another glimpse of his enviable physique. I try to focus on his bare feet. There’s nothing sexy about those, except?—
Dammit. Even his feet look good. On what bizarre planet do a man’s feet trigger such a positive physiological response? I must be ovulating. That’s the only explanation.
My phone pings and I’m grateful to realize it’s dinnertime. Time flies when you’re practicing saving the world.
Olivia objects. “We haven’t done the hero pose yet,” she insists.
Charlie’s face is completely blank. “What’s the hero pose?”
“Like you jumped from a helicopter and landed in the middle of a group of bad guys.” She drops to a crouched position, one hand on the ground, one leg splayed and the other knee bent.
Slowly, her head tilts up so that she’s gazing menacingly at the bad guys as she blows a loose strand of hair out of her eye.
Charlie elbows me. “She’s looking at me. Am I the baddie?” he whispers.
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
Olivia remains fixed in her position. “Quick! I need a snappy one-liner. I’m still perfecting mine.”
Angela shakes her wrists in excitement. “Ooh, how about ‘look what the cat dragged in?’”
Olivia’s head droops. “That only works if the bad guy is saying it.”
“I’ve got one,” Stefan interjects. “Looks like I got the drop on you, boys.”
“Good enough,” Olivia says. “Looks like I got the drop on you.” She pulls herself to a standing position and bows with a flourish. “Your turn, Charlie.”
He jogs in place for a second, then closes his eyes and blows out a breath.
“I’ve never seen Spider-Man do that,” I say.
“Leave him alone,” Olivia says. “Can’t you see he’s getting in the zone?”
Charlie shoots me a triumphant smile that makes me want to drop kick him into the lake. He pretends to jump from a great height, then copies Olivia’s landing.
“I need a quick line too,” he says. “I was so determined to stick the landing, I forgot to think of one.”
“Sorry,” Stefan replies. “I gave Olivia my best one.”
Charlie looks up at us. “Can you hurry? I’m getting a leg cramp.”
“We deduct points for cramps,” I tell him. “Heroes don’t get those. They ingest the requisite amount of potassium.”
He glares at me, then says in his best hero voice, “Thought I’d drop in for a chat, fellas.”
“Why are the bad guys always guys ?” Olivia asks, bristling with irritation. “Girls can be bad, too. We’re equal opportunity evildoers.”