Chapter 1
With one last glide of the paddle, the kayak crashed onto the pebbled shore.
Hazel took a deep breath, stretching her arms over her head, and added a satisfied exhale before tossing the double-bladed oar to the ground.
Another perfect morning on the water. Nothing was more soothing than the rhythmic lull of floating, surrounded by near crystal bluish-green ripples and an earthy scent to start your day.
Some people practiced yoga, some meditated or journaled for their solace. Hazel Jones paddled.
After stepping out of the kayak, she pulled it further up the rocks to ensure it wouldn’t drift away before walking toward the main cabin.
She was practically raised on the water of Lake Tamoa, a hidden gem outside of Tenton, Florida.
For as long as she could remember, she stayed from June through the end of July until completing her undergrad.
After being accepted into med school, she’d moved to the city, only to realize six years later that her love for animals and nature exceeded her love for people. So, she quit her job and moved back.
Despite all the trouble, everything worked out.
Hazel got to live where she wanted for free.
Well, almost free. She owned the cabin in exchange for helping her aunt run her business as lead facilities manager, overseeing supply inventory and upkeep of the grounds.
Examining the campsite, Hazel made a mental note to fix the lopsided Complete Minds Complete Bodies sign by the entrance, after breakfast. There were two days left before all hell broke loose—the next wave of people arriving for summer camp.
Walking through the cabin door, she tossed her life jacket on a hook and followed her nose to the kitchen.
Pausing at the flour shoe prints across the floor, she leaned against the door frame, arms folded.
Hazel cracked a smile as her best friend, Riley Davis, made a mess of her cabin.
She had arrived yesterday and was already taking over her space.
Riley was the assistant director and she led camp orientations.
The entire cabin smelled delicious with the perfect mixture of savory and sweet, and her favorite: bacon and waffles. Unfortunately, Riley’s efforts in the cooking department were almost always better than the results, but that never stopped her from trying.
“At least nothing is burning this time.” Hazel said, giggling as Riley jolted into the air.
Wide-eyed, Riley whipped around to face her, tongs pointed like a dagger.
“Jesus, Hazel, you scared me.” Flashing a playful glare at her comment, she handed her the plate of bacon, knowing well where she was headed.
“Don’t worry; I found the perfect ingredient to launch my waffle recipe to the next level. ”
“Chocolate chips? Honey?” Hazel asked as she set a plate on the counter. From behind, she draped her arms over Riley’s shoulders. A shorter woman, Riley was the perfect height for hugs, amongst other things.
Hazel’s mouth found her ear and whispered, “You know, if you wanted something sweet to taste, all you had to do was ask.” She kissed her cheek, exaggerating an audible smack.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Hazel,” she said, moving her voluminous, coily hair, tempting her by tilting her head and giving access to her neck. “If I recall, your to-do list is full. Isn’t that what you were complaining about last night?”
“I could use the distraction. Would you like to be added to the top?”
She held a hand up, halting the air. “We both have a busy day. Besides, I thought I called the shots around here?”
Without responding, Hazel swiped a finger along the rim of the cookie butter jar and pretended to feed her. Falling for the trick, Riley opened her mouth wide, only for her to dot her nose instead.
She huffed, removing the dollop with a finger and licking it clean. Wearing her cute ‘thinking’ face, Riley touched her chin. “Although hazelnut-spread waffles topped with whipped cream and strawberries sounds pretty amazing. I think we have the ingredients if you want to help.”
“Are we talking about food or something else?” Hazel asked, amused at the way Riley squinted with pursed lips.
“Hazel plus spread, plus whipped cream, equals a fantastic time.”
“Too bad I’m allergic to nuts,” Riley quipped.
“Perfect. Me too.”
She shot Hazel a look. “Are we still talking about food or something else?”
They burst out laughing as Riley slapped her arm and wiggled out of her embrace.
Grabbing the mixing bowl and remote, Riley turned the volume up on the TV.
Best friends, they had a fairly unorthodox relationship.
Harmonious and entertaining, coated with a hint of sexual tension.
They’d tried to date a couple of years back, but Riley taught her that loving someone and being compatible with their lifestyle choices are two entirely different things.
Not to mention, Hazel was a tad bit of a control freak.
After less than six months of dating, they realized they made better friends than lovers.
Friends that, every once in a while, shared an intimate night together.
Nothing official, only a mutual understanding to do what felt natural during her impromptu visits.
Times when she craved more than what others were willing to give.
Hell, most times, they just enjoyed poking fun at each other.
Hazel stabbed the top waffle on the stack with her fork, halting when her nose scrunched from the lingering scent of egg. Thinking better of it, she stuck to the bacon, secretly tossing the offending food in the trash bin.
“I know it’s your last year as assistant director, but you really don’t have to go above and beyond by making a fancy breakfast for everyone. The kids love the make-your-own pancake bar. If it ain’t broke…” she said. Riley had amazing qualities. Cooking waffles wasn’t one of them.
Riley pointed at the TV. “I found a cooking show that doesn’t make me want to fall asleep. And, check this episode out. This chef only cooks breakfast. If I can’t learn how to make perfect waffles from her, I quit.”
“Found yourself a miracle worker, yeah?” Hazel teased, grabbing a third piece of bacon. Her eyes landed on the screen, and her heart stopped for a moment. “Holy shit.”
Riley squealed with excitement, throwing her arms in the air. “Smoking hot, right? I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Meet who? Her?”
“Didn’t you see the email? Your aunt sent it last week.”
“What email?”
“I swear, woman. If you didn’t have me, you’d never interact with another human again.” Riley pushed her phone in Hazel’s face. “Summer Bedingfield is staying here for three days. She volunteered to give free cooking lessons to the campers. Arrives tomorrow, I believe.”
This time, Hazel pointed at the TV. “That Summer Bedingfield?”
Riley nodded, eyes trailing the beautiful cherry-lipstick-wearing redhead pacing around the southern-style kitchen.
Even the host seemed to sneak a lingering glance when she turned to pull a hand towel from the drawer, stuffing it in her back pocket.
“What I’d give to be that towel right now.
” Riley sighed, then shook her head. “Wait, didn’t you go to school with her? I think I read that in the email.”
Hazel hesitated before responding. Some people just had worldly success written all over them.
Forgetting a woman like Summer Bedingfield was near impossible.
Hell, she’d tried. “No, not school. Summer camp, actually. She and I were my aunt’s interns for a season.
She said she’d return, but she moved back to Atlanta.
Her dad had a hotel franchise headquartered there. ”
“What was she like?”
“Honestly, I don’t remember much.” After telling a white lie, her eyes found the TV again.
Summer Bedingfield was as captivating as a rare creature in the wild, and from what she remembered, had quite the personality.
Returning to reality, she gave Riley a little more before being called out for staring.
“She’s obviously a head-turner. And about as southern sweet as ice tea without the sugar. ”
Riley snorted. “That bad?”
“Ironically, her name is Summer, but she is the biggest ice queen I have ever met. At least she was back then. She looks much friendlier on TV so, perhaps the camera softened her up.”
Riley danced her fingers up Hazel’s forearm. With a teasing tone, she asked, “Did she get under the famous Hazel Jones's skin?”
“Just about as much as your cooking skills.”
Jaw hanging, Riley flicked flour in her face. “All right, out of my kitchen. And don’t come crawling to me at lunchtime. Riley Eatery is closed.” Raising her eyebrow, she put her hands on her hips. “All of Riley Eatery.”
“Good thing I know just the thing to warm you back up to fire on all cylinders.” Hazel pinned her with a confident gaze, picked up the last piece of bacon, and placed it in front of her mouth.
“You’re lucky we’re best friends,” she said.
“We agree on one thing at least. I am extremely lucky.”
“Too late, tiger, don’t be a kiss ass. Now, out you go.
” Riley chomped on the bacon, thankfully missing Hazel’s finger, and pointed toward the exit.
Laughing to herself, she walked out the door, grabbing the hammer and box of two-inch nails out of the desk drawer.
Back to work. “That sign isn’t going to fix itself,” she grumbled, and made her way toward the entrance.
She glanced at her list for the next task.
Replace flood light bulb at cabin 10. Her head shifted to the cabin Summer Bedingfield and she had shared, along with the memories.
Memories that teased her thoughts more than once over the years.
She was certain that the famous woman had long forgotten her name and face, let alone what Summer had said. But not Hazel.
You never forget the first time your fingers explore a woman’s wetness. Or the first time she tastes yours. And certainly not her promises of more.
Next time, the memory of a sultry, whispering voice echoed in her mind. A portent—good or evil? The promise Summer Bedingfield made on the last night before she left almost ten years ago. Next time, you’re mine.
To Be Continued…