Chapter Nine
Vanessa woke at dawn, startled by an unfamiliar presence.
She hadn’t enjoyed her second night outdoors.
After she’d returned to her campsite, carrying Emily the whole way, she’d tossed and turned for hours.
Now something else had disturbed her, but she couldn’t identify the source.
She listened to the cacophony of birdsong ringing from the trees above.
Beneath that raucous noise, almost indiscernible, was the soft rustling of leaves.
Twigs snapped under the weight of an approaching foot.
She bolted upright and unzipped the tent flap.
She didn’t see anyone. More leaves crunched, so she scrambled into the open, where she could stand tall and defend herself.
There was no one around, however. Not Paul, creeping up on her at sunrise.
Not one of Bennett’s criminal cohorts, ready to collect on his debts.
Only quiet campers in the distance, and loud birds of various sizes nearby.
Who knew birds could cause such a ruckus?
They screeched, twittered and stomped around in the bushes like nobody’s business.
Vanessa climbed back into the tent and checked on Emily, who was fast asleep.
She tried to drift off again but her mind wouldn’t settle.
The evening with Paul had been … interesting.
When he let down his guard, he was fun to be around.
Unfortunately, he showed no signs of budging on the cabin.
He’d accepted her help last night, which must have been difficult for him.
They’d played a rousing, semi-profane game of Scrabble.
Then he’d sent her away without a second thought.
He was a tough customer, but he wasn’t made of stone.
She sensed a decency in him, a desire to do the right thing.
She knew he liked women, too. She’d noticed him checking her out in a way that communicated interest, though he wasn’t obvious about it.
He kept his gaze on her face, for the most part.
His rudeness didn’t extend to treating her like a sex object.
Still, she felt the chemistry between them.
When she’d found out about Bennett’s affair—affairs, actually, because he’d cheated on her with several women—she’d been devastated.
She’d considered sleeping with one of his friends to get back at him.
In the end, she’d poured her energy into more productive avenues.
She’d finished the requirements for her physical therapy degree and filed for divorce.
The satisfaction of vengeance had eluded her.
She imagined pursuing a fling now that her fury had cooled.
Paul was a viable candidate. He might be good in bed.
His body was on point. He had strong hands and a quick wit.
There was also something tortured about him, as if he didn’t allow himself pleasure often.
He needed medical treatment, though he was too stubborn to admit it.
She liked the thought of releasing him from pain.
She embraced this idea, letting it take shape in her fantasies. She didn’t intend to seduce him in reality. She wasn’t that desperate. But she enjoyed the fantasy of it. She’d finally seen his smile last night, and it had been a lady-killer.
She slept again, and woke a short time later, when Emily started climbing over her in search of Penelope.
Vanessa found the doll tangled up in the star-spangled blanket.
They ventured outside and visited the restrooms. She felt like a bus had run over her as they trudged toward the convenience store to get breakfast.
Emily wanted to play with other kids, so Vanessa signed her up for something called mini-camp. It ran from nine to eleven every weekday. Vanessa sat at a table inside the small recreation center, watching about a dozen children finger paint as she sipped her weak, lukewarm coffee.
On the plus side, the recreation center had A/C and charging stations.
Vanessa could bring her laptop to the center tomorrow and study.
She scrolled through messages on her phone.
There was no response from Frank Wilson, the owner of the cabins.
The most recent text from Bennett’s mother inspired a stab of guilt.
Vanessa hadn’t told Bennett’s parents about her plan to leave Colorado.
She doubted Bennett had broken the news, either. He avoided all responsibilities.
When the art class was over, Vanessa was still in desperate need of caffeine.
“Let’s go to Dilley’s,” she said, naming Emily’s favorite fast food restaurant.
“I want to see Uncle Jack,” Emily said.
“He’s working today. We’ll see him later.”
Emily agreed to the short trip in the car. They had an early lunch in Lost Lake and visited a lovely little park. When they returned to the campsite, the sun was high overhead.
“How about a swim?” Vanessa said.
“Okay,” Emily said. “But Penelope wants to jump like we did yesterday.”
Vanessa doubted Paul would object to them swimming off his dock.
He owed her one. They donned swimsuits in the interior of the tent, which had reached about one hundred degrees.
Vanessa packed her beach bag and grabbed Emily’s hand.
They walked from the campground to the cabin, skirted around Paul’s truck, and approached the shore of the lake.
It really was a beautiful spot. Endless sunshine, sparking blue water, and peaceful quiet. Vanessa walked to the end of the dock and dove off it with relish. Emily practiced jumping from the edge into Vanessa’s arms.
After their swim, they lazed on a blanket in the shade. Emily got cranky and demanded a list of things Vanessa couldn’t deliver.
“I want my bedroom,” Emily said.
“It’s twenty hours away.”
“I want to watch Peppa Pig.”
“We don’t have Wi-Fi here. We have it at the campground.”
“I want Uncle Jack.”
“He’s coming later.”
The little girl’s face crumpled suddenly. “I want my daddy!”
Vanessa’s heart went out to her. She didn’t ask for Bennett often, and seemed to forget him completely some days.
He’d been an absentee father even before the separation.
Vanessa promised ice cream in an attempt to appease her, but Emily was beyond reason.
She threw Penelope into the lake and screamed that the doll was drowning.
Vanessa rescued her and set her out to dry.
Then Emily flopped around on the ground like a fish.
A full-scale tantrum ensued, one that simply had to be endured.
Twenty minutes later, Emily had fallen asleep on the blanket.
Vanessa lounged next to her, listless. This summer vacation wasn’t turning out the way she’d hoped.
She was tired and irritable. The heat she’d longed for all winter felt heavy and oppressive now that she couldn’t escape it.
Sweat trickled between her breasts. She lifted the hair off her neck and glanced toward the air-conditioned cabin.
Paul appeared at the edge of the trees like a sexy mirage.
He wore a pair of swimming trunks with canvas shoes and no socks.
His short-sleeved shirt hung open, unbuttoned.
He seemed surprised to see her, as if he hadn’t noticed their presence.
She imagined he wanted to go for a swim, or maybe take the boat out.
It was his summer vacation, too. She wondered why he’d chosen to work on a remodel project with an injured shoulder.
Did he need the money? Was he a frivolous spender, like Bennett?
While Vanessa pondered the issue, Paul approached their shady spot.
She rose to her feet with a finger to her lips.
She didn’t want him to wake Emily. He paused midway to accommodate her request. She ventured forward, aware that her cover-up didn’t cover much of her body.
He kept his gaze on the shoreline instead of her legs.
“How are you feeling?” she asked with a smile.
“Better.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did not.”
That made two of them. Vanessa studied the strip of bare chest between the open edges of his shirt and narrow line of hair beneath his navel. Despite his shoulder injury, there was nothing weak or soft about his physique. She returned her attention to his face, noting that it looked flushed.
“Thank you again for your help,” he said stiffly. “Do I owe you anything?”
“Yeah. You owe me a Scrabble rematch.”
His cool blue eyes met hers. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Afraid I’ll beat the pants off you again?”
“I don’t think we should see each other.”
Vanessa’s mouth dropped open at his flat rejection. She’d invited him to a nerdy board game session, not on a hot date. Still, the refusal stung. It was proof that he didn’t appreciate her help or care about her situation.
“Enjoy your day,” he said with a mock salute. Then he walked away.
She gaped at his back as he strode down the dock. What a jerk! He’d left her speechless, unable to sputter a response. Whirling around, she returned to the shade with Emily. Her daughter was still sleeping like a little angel.
In the distance, Paul had shrugged out of his shirt.
His shoulders were broad and tanned, his biceps well developed.
She told herself she was making a professional assessment of his condition rather than shooting daggers at his hot body.
She couldn’t see any pain-relief patches from this vantage point.
If she were his physical therapist, she’d recommend rest, and maybe low-impact exercises.
He was going to reinjure himself by doing heavy labor.
She muttered her opinion of him under her breath, but she didn’t look away. He kicked off his shoes and dove into the water for a leisurely swim. Suddenly parched, she grabbed a sports drink from her beach bag, twisted off the cap, and lifted it to her lips.
Out in the lake, Paul yelped as if he’d been bitten.
Vanessa frowned and shielded her eyes with one hand. He wasn’t swimming anymore. He was sort of flailing with one arm.