Chapter 5 #2
“Got to go to work, kids,” Buck said to Estelle and Beth.
Draining his water, he set the empty glass down on the hatch that led through to the kitchen.
“You two had best skedaddle. If this is anything like hotshot crew prep, the next few hours are going to be butt-numbing. Can’t imagine you want to sit through a health and safety briefing. ”
Beth looked like she wanted nothing more than to sit through a health and safety briefing—and take copious notes—but Estelle didn’t give her the chance. Seizing Beth’s arm, she dragged her away.
“I know working as a counselor can be a challenge,” Leonie was saying as Buck joined the crowd gathered around her.
“But I promise, there’s nothing more rewarding than helping your campers grow and thrive.
And it’s not only the kids who discover their true selves and find new friends here at camp.
Many of you may be strangers to each other now, but by the end of the summer, I guarantee you’ll have forged deep, unshakeable connections that will last a lifetime. ”
“I damn well hope not,” Buck muttered.
He’d forgotten shifter senses. Half the room turned to look at him with varying degrees of disapproval or amusement, though Honey didn’t. She didn’t so much as twitch, apparently totally engrossed in Leonie’s lecture.
Buck glared at the gawkers until they collectively decided to mind their own business.
This did not take long. He tried to return his attention to Leonie, which was damn near impossible with the back of Honey’s head only fifteen feet away.
She must have been able to feel his stare lancing through her skull.
How long was the infuriating woman going to ignore him?
“And your closest bond,” Leonie continued, “will be with your co-counselor. Throughout the whole summer, the two of you will support and encourage each other as much as the kids. So let’s start as we mean to go on. If you aren’t already, please stand next to your co-counselor now.”
Oh, shit.
The crowd broke apart into scattered pairs, leaving him alone and exposed at the back of the hall. Honey turned, eyes locking on to him at last. The impact nailed his feet to the floor. She headed his way like a wrecking ball, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to get out of the way.
Honey planted herself right in front of him, so they were practically toe to toe. She was so close to his own height, she only had to lift her chin a little to look him straight in the eye. She gave him a bright, gleaming smile, like unsheathing a sword.
“I have decided that we will start again,” she announced. She thrust out a hand. “Hello, I’m Honey Bunch. It seems we’ll be working together as co-counselors. And I intend to make sure our campers have a great summer.”
It was definitely not a peace offering. More of a challenge. And damn it all, he had never backed down from a challenge in his entire cursed life.
“Buck Frazer.” He was acutely aware of Honey’s fragrance; not perfume, but the warm, sweet scent of her skin. The scar on his arm felt like a fresh brand. “Likewise.”
Bracing himself, he folded his fingers around hers. It was like grabbing hold of a live power line. Electricity surged through his whole body, paralyzing every muscle. He couldn’t have let go if she’d been about to drag him over a cliff.
Honey obviously had no such problem. She gave him a single firm, brisk handshake before releasing him again. And just like that, she returned her attention to the front of the room, as if she hadn’t just rattled every cell in his body.
How could you not feel that? he wanted to ask, but Leonie was speaking again.
“Everyone found their partner?” she asked, scanning the room. Apparently satisfied, she nodded. “Good. Then it’s time to dive straight into training.”
A few counselors let out loud, dramatic groans. Leonie fixed them with a mock-glare, though one corner of her mouth quirked in wry acknowledgement.
“Yes, yes, I know. You all thought you were coming to camp, not school.” She tapped her clipboard.
“But we have a lot of essential material to cover before the kids arrive. Later, we’re going to get into specifics about our activities and the unique challenges that you might face here, but this morning, we’re going to focus on something more fundamental.
I need you all to give this your full attention.
Without a doubt, it’s the most important part of your training. ”
Right. Health and safety. By this point, Buck was almost looking forward to it. Surely even Honey’s proximity couldn’t make basic first aid sexy. Several hours of dull PowerPoints sounded like just what he needed.
“So in this session, we’ll be doing…” Leonie paused, and Buck could have sworn she looked directly at him, tawny eyes gleaming with mischief. “ Trust-building exercises .”
* * *
Several hours later, Buck was in his own personal hell.
“A square,” he said, staring straight ahead. “A box. A Christmas present.”
“Buck, I haven’t even drawn two lines yet,” Honey said, exasperated, right behind him. “I’ll tell you when I’m done. Now pay attention.”
Like he needed to be told. Once again, she set the tip of one finger against his shoulder blade. His whole awareness focused down to that single hot point.
“It’s a truck,” he guessed wildly. “A car. A very square cow.”
“Buck.”
“It’s a beer bottle. Or a chainsaw.” Her finger traced a line of fire toward his lower back, and his breath hissed through his teeth. “A 1978 Ford Mustang. For the love of dog, woman, can’t you go any faster?”
Her finger stopped again, just above his last rib. “If you want to finish this exercise faster, maybe you should try actually drawing. Or have you forgotten you’re holding that clipboard?”
Buck had not forgotten. He was, in fact, extraordinarily grateful for the clipboard. It was his new best friend, unlike his pants, which were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The clipboard was doing a sterling job at stopping Honey from seeing how very thoroughly she’d grabbed his attention.
“For heaven’s sake, you’re not even trying.” Honey pressed her finger harder into his lower back. This should not have been erotic, yet damn near made him snap his pencil in half. “All you have to do is copy what I’m drawing on your back. It’s not hard.”
“Believe me, it is,” he said under his breath. Before she could complain at him again, he scrawled three lines on the paper. “There. That’s what you’ve done so far. Satisfied?”
Honey leaned forward to peer at his drawing, which meant that her breasts almost, but not quite, brushed against his shoulder. Buck could have estimated that almost to the eighth of an inch. He tilted the clipboard a little higher.
“Huh,” Honey said, sounding surprised. “That’s spot on. You were paying attention after all.”
“You have no idea.” He would probably be able to draw those damn three lines on his deathbed, which was going to come a whole lot sooner through total loss of blood flow to his brain if she didn’t stop breathing in his ear like that.
In desperation, he squinted at his cryptic sketch, trying to make sense of what she was trying to draw. “It’s a… table?”
“I said I wasn’t finished yet.” Honey straightened, which was a relief, and continued drawing on his back, which wasn’t. “Keep going.”
Gritting his teeth so hard that his jaw ached, Buck kept going.
He dragged the pencil across the paper, echoing the slow, tortuous progress of Honey’s fingertip across his skin.
Completing a neat, perfect square, she took her hand off his back, and for a glorious moment he thought his torment was at an end.
Then her finger came down again, like the vengeance of a thousand devils. He let out a guttural, involuntary noise.
“Ha!” Honey crowed as she traced a straight, careful line diagonally up from the top left corner of the square to the nape of his neck. “I knew it. You’re ticklish!”
“Really not,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.
“Oh, don’t you give me that tough guy nonsense.” Honey’s finger turned a corner, heading south-east. “I can feel you twitching.”
“Be grateful that’s all.” With a surge of relief, he recognized what she had to be drawing. His pencil raced ahead, completing the simple shape ahead of her maddeningly slow touch. “A house. It’s a house. At motherloving last.”
Honey pressed her free hand firmly down onto his shoulder as he tried to rise. “I said I’d tell you when I finished. I’m not done yet.”
“Woman, I already know it’s a house.”
“Yes, but this exercise is supposed to help us practice sensitivity and communication.” Honey ruthlessly sketched a door at the base of his spine, adding a little dot for the handle that sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin. “And it’s clear you need a lot of practice.”
Buck bit back a groan. With hard, stabbing strokes, he added details to his sketch, copying her touch. “Fine. Here. House, door, two windows. Happy now?”
Humming a little tune, Honey started drawing a chimney.
She was trying to kill him. The woman was actually trying to kill him.
At long last, Honey completed her ruthlessly detailed architectural schematic. By that point, Buck had gone into a kind of stoic, upright coma, hand mechanically copying her movements, mind utterly blank. It took him a second to realize that she’d finally stopped tormenting him.
“There,” she said, admiring the result of her handiwork—at least, the result above the clipboard rather than the one hidden below. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now you do me.”
Thankfully, Leonie saved Buck from having to come up with a response to this suggestion that wouldn’t get him thrown out for workplace harassment. The head counselor blew a whistle at the front of the room, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Okay, time’s up!” she announced. “I hope you all enjoyed practicing non-verbal communication and awareness. Let’s move on to the next activity.”