“I don’t know,” she said, before she could confuse herself to the point she couldn’t get any words out. “Why do you ask?”
“I think they’d be a perfect couple,” Rosie said.
Mary nodded. “I agree.”
“Well,” Liz said, “they’re pretty well doomed.”
They all laughed, but Emma knew Liz wasn’t kidding. Laney and Ben being attracted to each other plus Rosie and Mary deciding they belonged together would only equal one of two things—a happily-ever-after, or some kind of moment so awkward Ben would probably never return to the lodge again.
* * *
Laney had seen the guys return from their big ride, and she was dreading what the bathhouse would look like. The machines had been caked with mud, and the men themselves were so dirty, she had a hard time telling them apart.
Even though they’d taken turns at the wash station, spraying each other and their ATVs with the hose, she had a feeling a whole lot of that dirt was going to be on the bathroom floors. And when steam from the showers and water splashed around mixed with it, she’d learned that muddy bathrooms were actually a thing that existed in campgrounds.
She’d taken the time the women were relaxing around the pool to do a thorough cleaning of the lodge and restock the bathrooms. Then after the men rolled back in, she’d taken her break and retreated to her camper. She made herself a grilled cheese sandwich because she’d loved them as a child but never eaten them again once she met Patrick. But she’d seen Beth making some for the kids on a griddle attachment for the grill, and fallen in love with them all over. That and a couple chapters from the book she was reading should have cleared her mind.
But even a good book couldn’t distract her from the fact Ben had ridden in with the rest of the guys. He must have run into them out on the trail system and, since they all looked happy and relaxed—if really filthy—she assumed they hadn’t dragged him out there for a 911 call.
The knowledge Ben was in the campground was like a low electrical humming she couldn’t ignore. She could eat her dinner and even read the words on the page, but part of her was always tuned in to that hum.
But she was determined to stick to her plan to give the Kowalski family some space and give herself some alone time. Once everybody seemed to have cleaned up and the grills were being lit, she would go clean the bathhouse and make sure they had everything they needed, and then retreat back to her camper. A good movie turned up enough to drown out the sound of his laughter should it drift all the way to her camper was just the thing.
Maybe a movie without kissing, though. Or sex. Or romance. A thriller, maybe, though thrillers without a love interest weren’t easy to find. A horror flick was probably safe, but the last time she’d watched a horror movie and then done a late lap through the campground to make sure everything was good for the night, a guest stepping out from behind the tree he’d been peeing on had almost given her a heart attack. The feeling had apparently been mutual and as she walked away, she’d heard him trying to explain to his wife why he’d screamed.
No, probably not a horror movie.
But before she scrolled through the streaming options, looking for something devoid of anything that might make her think about the fact Ben wasn’t that far away, she wanted to get the bathhouse clean.
It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, maybe because the men had all been raised by two women with high expectations they demanded be met. And partly because she knew from a conversation she’d overheard that the guys would strip to their boxer briefs outside the bathroom door if they were really muddy and Lily and Brianna weren’t around.
She went through each bathroom, sweeping up the dirt. Then she sprayed down the showers and gave each toilet and sink a quick scrubbing. The toilet paper dispensers were fine, but all the bathrooms needed the paper towel dispensers filled and the trash cans emptied, probably because they’d all tried to clean up after themselves. Because the guests were all family and were staying so long, they were leaving shampoos and soaps in the bathroom, along with some other toiletries, so she left them alone.
It took her about an hour, since she wasn’t hurrying. Once she’d put the cleaning supplies back in the storage closet, she washed her hands and called it good.
It looked like the family was cleaning up after dinner, which meant her timing had been perfect. She could hear a four-wheeler running, though, which seemed odd. When she walked around the back of the bathhouse, she could see it, driving around out in the field. It was Sean, she realized, with Johnny sitting in front of him on the seat. The helmet looked huge on the little boy, and he had his hands on the handlebars, as if he was steering. Sean had control of the grips and the throttle, though, and she knew he was safe.
She wondered how old Johnny would have to be before he got to ride his own, smaller ATV. She knew they made little ones because she’d seen Lily and Brianna taking turns riding a little pink one in the field, with adult supervision.
Too late, she realized the guy leaning against a pickup truck parked at the edge of the field wasn’t one of Sean’s brothers or cousins. It was Ben and, when he saw her, he smiled.
He was dirty. Even from a distance she could see that he hadn’t cleaned up yet. There were even smudges on his face, and she wondered what it would be like to be riding behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist, while he splashed through mud.
Then he raised his hand and made acome over heregesture. She shook her head, but he only laughed. She could barely hear it, but she could see it, and then he waved her over.
And because she couldn’t—or didn’t want to—say no to Ben when he grinned like that, she went.
* * *
Ben had waved Laney over without thinking about it, but as she walked toward him, he didn’t regret it. She was beautiful and nothing short of a real emergency could have torn his attention from her as she walked.
She’d been spending so much time outside, her skin had taken on a sun-kissed glow. Her hair had even lightened a little, and it was hanging loose past her shoulders. And she was wearing denim cutoff shorts and a Northern Star ATV Club T-shirt, which amused him considering what he was going to try to get her to do.
“You have some dirt on your face, right there,” she said when she was close enough, pointing to his cheek. Then she opened her hand and made a big gesture like washing a window. “And pretty much all over...there.”
Laughing, he pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and wiped at his face, knowing it wouldn’t do much good. There was a smear of trail dust left behind on the fabric, but nothing short of a shower was going to get him clean.
But when he looked at her over the T-shirt still bunched in his hands, intending to ask her if that was better, she was staring at his bared stomach. He might not be twenty years old anymore and she couldn’t count his ab muscles, but good genes and physical activity meant he didn’t reflexively suck in his gut as she looked.
