“I worry about you.”
The front door opens, letting in the sounds of birds singing in the trees and a diesel engine idling somewhere in the campground. Paige waves, mouthing a goodbye as she heads out the door, letting me tend to the couple who lingers near the entrance.
“Come on in,” I say, smiling as I pull up our check-in screen on the computer. “Are you the Hendricks?”
The forty-something woman pushes her designer sunglasses back, wearing them like a headband in her lush, short brown hair. She has on a loose, lightweight sweater that looks like it cost a fortune, paired with leggings that also look like they cost a fortune. It’s an easy, light, I’m-on-vacation kind of outfit—worthless if you’re planning on doing anything other than meandering the paved trails and snapping pictures on your phone (which is now a glorified camera because you likely don’t have enough service to post said pictures to any of your social media accounts).
I almost sigh, wishing I made enough to buy an outfit like that—wishing I had somewhere towearan outfit like that.
“Actually, we’re the Tillmans,” the man next to Designer Woman says. He has a five o’clock shadow and the kindof prized genes that must have been passed down from gladiators. Together, they look like they could model for those advertisements you see when you walk into a sporting goods store. You know the ones—where the couple stands in front of a tent, smiling at each other over steaming mugs of coffee?—
Hold up. TheTillmans?As in four kids and a mobile animal farm?
“Oh,” I stammer, shocked.
After talking to Sarah Tillman on the phone, I had an image of a rounded, matronly woman in my head. One who wears baggy jean shorts, stark-white sneakers, and massive, floppy sun hats.
“The Tillmans—of course.” I smile wider to hide my surprise. “I have the perfect spot all picked out for you. It’s a little tricky to back into because of the landscaping, but it’s the largest space, and you’ll have lots of privacy.”
“That’s fine,” Mr. Tillman says like he navigates his thirty-six-foot camper into tight spaces all the time. Which, since they’re full-timers, I suppose he does.
He smiles like he’s genuinely pleased to be in the middle of nowhere for the summer and scans the local attraction brochures on the counter.
Mrs. Tillman zeroes in on one of my mother’s sculptures—an abstract piece that’s calledWind. “This is beautiful,” she says.
“Thanks.” I tap away at my computer, completing the short and simple check-in process. “It’s my mom’s.”
“She has good taste.”
“She does,” I agree, my smile becoming more genuine, “but that’s one ofherpieces. She’s a sculptor.”
Mrs. Tillman’s eyes widen with surprise. She’s just about to answer when the door opens, and six-foot-two-inches of teenage male perfection leans into the office. “Apparently McKenna fedCandy half a bag of rainbow candies on the drive, and she just threw up in the back seat.”
I gape at the sandy-haired boy, my fingers frozen on the keyboard.
“McKenna or Candy?” Mrs. Tillman asks, less concerned than I would be if that statement were directed at me.
“Candy. Now Caleb says he’s going to be sick if I don’t let him out.”
Mrs. Tillman sighs. “Please get Candy out of the car before she has another accident.” She turns back to me. “What spot are we in?”
As soon as she says it, the boy turns his gaze on me and finally notices me sitting here staring at him. My mouth goes dry, and no words come out.
Even though I don’t want a summer boy, I’m not immune to them. It’s the whole look-but-don’t-touch philosophy.
What did Mrs. Tillman just ask me?
Mr. Tillman clears his throat, amused. My cheeks flame as my brain jolts back to life. “Twenty-nine.”
Mrs. Tillman turns back to the boy in the door. “Walk Candy to the site. Take Caleb with you—donotlet him talk you intogetting his bike from the rack. We’ll take them down when we’re settled in.”
A smile toys at the boy’s lips, his eyes still on me. “Do you have a map of the campground?”
My gaze strays to the empty stand on the counter, and my cheeks get hotter. Unable to look at him, I say, “I just ran out. Let me print you one real quick.”
“No worries.” A lazy smile finally stretches across his face. “Why don’t you show me the way?”
CHAPTER TWO
