Vanessa gaped at him in surprise.“He wanted me to cancel my wedding based on his vague suspicions, with zero evidence.It was the most hypocritical accusation I’d ever heard, from the biggest liar I’ve ever met!”
Paul massaged his left arm in silence.The motion dislodged the T-shirt he’d draped over his shoulder, revealing a square bandage on his back.It was a pain-relief patch, she realized.She recognized the faint medicinal smell she’d noticed last night.Wet from the lake, it had lost some adhesion, and was peeling away at the corner.
“What happened to your shoulder?”
He dropped his hand abruptly.Although he rearranged the fabric of his T-shirt to cover it, she caught a glimpse of a fresh scar beneath his collarbone.“I had surgery.”
“How long ago?”
“Six weeks.”
“Are you getting physical therapy?”
Instead of answering, Paul lumbered to his feet and shoved his bare feet into dock shoes.He held his cowboy hat in one hand.His wet shorts dripped water down his shins, plastering dark leg hair against tanned skin.She noted that his chest was smooth, other than a few whorls of hair around his nipples.He was lean and hard-muscled, without an ounce of extra flesh.“I already told you I’m not interested in your services, whatever they are.You’re wasting your time with your sad stories and suggestive hot dog eating.”
Vanessa sputtered with indignation.“Suggestive hot dog eating?”
“Your daddy issues are not my problem,” he said, and walked away.
She watched him stroll down the dock.If looks could kill, his retreating form would have burst into flames.When he’d disappeared from sight, she collected what was left of her pride and returned to the picnic table.Jackson was getting ready to roast marshmallows.He’d found two long sticks, and stoked the coals back to life.
“How did it go?”he asked, his mouth quirking.
“Shut up,” she said.
Jackson burst into laughter, but didn’t ask any more questions.She didn’t tell him about Paul’s mysterious wound or his insulting comments.Suggestive hot dog eating, her ass.She couldn’t believe he’d said that.Seething with irritation, she poked a stick through a marshmallow with more force than necessary.
“You’ll be happier at the campground,” Jackson said.
Vanessa watched her marshmallow catch fire.She let it burn, imagining Paul’s face.“I’m ready when you are.”
After they finished the s’mores, Vanessa packed up their things for the short journey to the campground.She drove away from the cabins in defeat.When they arrived, she cruised through the campground slowly.There were spaces for tent camping spread out in a wide half-circle around the recreation center.About a third of the campsites were occupied, which left plenty to choose from.
“I like this one,” Emily said.“It has good trees.”
Vanessa pulled over to inspect the site, which had a nice picnic table and several trees offering shade and privacy.The restroom was nearby, along with a small playground.Someone had abandoned a stack of wood by the fire pit, so that was a bonus.The space appeared clean, quiet, and rustic.
Was it her dream cabin?No, but they could make do.
“Perfect,” Vanessa said brightly.
Jackson, who’d parked next to her, brought out the tent and bedding.Vanessa helped him set it up while Emily played on her tablet.At least they had Wi-Fi.They would sleep in relative comfort tonight.Emily went inside the tent with her tablet.It had been a long day, but it was still early evening.They had hours left before bedtime.
Vanessa sat down at the picnic table with Jackson.He’d brought a bug lamp.They watched insects get zapped in companionable silence.
“What kind of trouble are you in?”Jackson asked quietly.
She gave him a sharp glance.“I’m not in trouble.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
She sighed, shaking her head.Jackson had a nose for deception.“Bennett is under investigation.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes.“How do you know?”
“I was contacted by law enforcement.”
“Which agency?”
