“Hey,” I croak. I clear my throat. “Sorry to bother you. I just need something to drink.”
“No bother at all,” he says. “This is your house.”
I make my way to the fridge, careful to avoid the drop cloths lining the perimeter. Grabbing a bottle of water from inside, I take a long sip.There, that’s better.
I glance back at Jesse. Nope, not better. I’ll need a gallon to quench this thirst.
“So, how’s it going?” I ask, expanding the question out to the team at large. “Do you guys need anything? Snacks? Drinks?”
Shelby retracts her tape measure and studies me with a sympathetic tilt of her head.
“We’re fine,” she says. “How areyoudoing? It sucks, right? Being separated from your kids?”
Damn, this woman is blunt. It’s sort of refreshing, though. People never say what they’re thinking in front of celebrities. The problem with being surrounded with yes-men is that very few people are willing to speak openly. I appreciate her honesty. Because she’s right: This does suck.
Toby elbows her in the side, clearly less confident in his wife’s candor. She wrinkles her nose at him. “What? She’s a mom, too. You know how we get when we spend more than one night away from Charlotte.”
Toby pauses, his paintbrush dangling in midair. “You’re right. Parenting is not for the weak, that’s for sure.”
I lean back against the fridge. “I’ve tried telling myself it’s no big deal. But two weeks? We’ve never been apart that long. How am I supposed to cope? Like, I’m expected to walk past their empty bedroom every night and somehow be okay with that?”
“I hear you,” Shelby says. “If you ask me, it sounds like you need a good distraction. Let us take you out somewhere, get your mind off this.”
I shrug, but it’s impossible to admit that the idea isn’t tempting. I need to get it together before I wander into their bedroom to “tidy up” and inevitably start smelling their pillowcases. Shelby might be right—getting out of the house might be exactly what I need.
“All right, I’m in. What do you have in mind?”
I’ve never been paintballing before, so I can hardly claim to be an expert. But based on knowledge accrued from watching movies, I wasn’t expecting to be standing in front of a stone castle nestled among a field of trees.
I tilt my head to the side. “Can you explain the fortress thing again? Because my ensemble feels inappropriate given the regal setting.”
It’s probably fair to say my ensemble would be inappropriate in most settings. I’m dressed in a moisture-wicking long-sleeved tee and the padded shorts I normally reserve for my Peloton. After I refused to don pants in this heat, Shelby insisted I borrow a pair of her construction kneepads, which has only made the get-up more awkward. I look like a child about to go Rollerblading for the first time.
Unable to bend my knees, I take a bowlegged step forward and Jesse masks a smile behind his fist.
“It’s my favorite course!” Shelby says enthusiastically. Her eyes turn dreamy. “I like to pretend that I am Princess Peach and Toby is Bowser, coming to steal me away from my castle and—”
Jesse cuts her off with a laugh. “All right, all right. For our collective sake, you two will be on the same team. I don’t need to be cast as an extra in your warped sexual fantasies.”
He swings his gaze in my direction. “Looks like you’re with me, Malibu Barbie. You ready?”
An hour and a half later, I’m soaked in sweat and mud, and down to less than a dozen paintballs. I press my back into a stone barricade and then turn to Jesse, who’s standing behind an identical one a few feet away.
“How are they so good at this?” I gasp. “Do they have access to some sort of secret battlefield maps?”
Jesse lifts his goggles and wipes the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m trying not to think about how many times they’ve played that Peach and Bowser scene on this course.” As I catch my breath, I drink in the sight of him, surreptitiously studying the damp curl clinging to his forehead, the curve of his bicep as he checks his remaining ammunition. His cargo pants are slung deliciously low on his hips. The whole thing is criminal. No one has ever looked this sexy playing paintball.
Jesse lowers his protective eyewear back into place and I force myself to stop ogling. He sneaks a furtive glimpse around the corner, then he tips his chin toward the castle.
“There. I see them at the top of the battlement.” He pins me with a serious look. “Do you think you can get to that barricade just across the field? It will give you a straight shot into the castle.”
I nod in the affirmative. “I’m on it.”
Crouching as low as my protective vulvic pads will allow, I dart across the open field, breathing out a sigh of relief when I reach the hiding spot. Peering over the top of the stone wall, I spy a glimpse of camo print. I leap out from behind the barricade, giving myself a clear shot at Toby. But before I can pull the trigger, Shelby’s blond head pokes through one of the castle’s windows. She lifts her goggles and fixes me with a smug grin. Then she aims her cannon at me.
“It’s Peach Time,” she says. “Let’s go.”
The next sequence of events happens quickly. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, but before I can fully process the sight of the body hurtling toward me, I’m knocked over by the impact.
