Page 69 of Mr. B

“And if I still had my own cabin?”

“I’d walk you to the door and say goodnight.”

“Because we’re at camp with forty seniors?”

“That, and the fact that we haven’t gone on a date in seventeen years.”

“So we’re going to start at the beginning.”

“Yes. Are you okay with that?”

She smiled. “Of course. I’m just glad we’re starting someplace.”

He moved closer to her and took both her hands. “One day at a time. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He looked at her for a moment, then started to kiss her. He stopped himself, let go of her hands, and took a step back. “Yeah. That can’t happen. I know how that will go.”

Cassandra laughed. “Old habits?”

“Old memories.” He moved further away. “I’m going to take a nice long shower. Do you need to get in the bathroom first?”

“Yes, please.”

Wes paced around the room for a moment while she was in the bathroom, then gathered his pajamas and a T-shirt. She came out wearing her pajamas, her face shiny and her hair damp around the edges, and the hitch in his chest surprised him.

“All done?”

“It’s all yours.”

She smelled like lavender as he walked by her, and he hesitated a moment as he passed. When he got into the bathroom, he leaned against the counter and muttered, “One day at a time. You can do that.” He turned around and looked in the mirror. “You so can’t do that.” He blew out a breath, then turned on the shower and undressed.

He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. Before he opened the door, he gripped the doorknob and took a breath to steady himself. Cassandra was lying in bed, propped against the headboard. She looked up from the book she was reading.

“That was a long one, all right.”

“I should’ve gotten out a little sooner. The water got cold, and now I’m chilled.” He took a blanket from the end of the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. Then he sat in the chair.

“Weston?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

He smiled. “I’m not sure I can make that same promise.”

Chapter seventeen

“What’s going on here, Weston?”

Wes played his guitar quietly until Cassandra set her book aside and said goodnight. He waited another fifteen minutes before getting up and moving to the bed. He sat on the edge for a moment, then lay down, facing away from her. How had things changed so much in one day?

It took him a while to fall asleep, but once he did, he slept soundly. When he woke, Cassandra was still asleep. He got up without waking her, then dressed in jogging pants and a hoodie before going outside to stretch. After a few minutes, he stepped off the porch and jogged to the lake. He turned onto the path along the shoreline and breathed in the fresh, moist air. A hawk soared by, looking for breakfast, and a family of ducks splashed into the water as he ran by, disturbing their sleep.

The temperature was low enough to make his exhaled breath visible as he came to a fork in the path and veered away from the lake. The new path led him into the foothills, rising gradually as he progressed. When his watch showed he’d gone two miles, he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He could see the lake below him and the green clearing where the camp lay. It was still early, and no one else had ventured out of their cabins.

He changed direction and headed back down the hill. When he reached camp, the mess hall lights were on, and Lester sat in a camp chair in front of his tent. Wes walked over to him.