“Nope. Not one.” I ventured a rueful grin. “Dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”
She laughed. “I’ll say!”
“What about you? You haven’t mentioned a boyfriend…”
“I don’t have one.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“I broke up with Brock back in April.”
“April?”
“Mmm hmm. And I’ve been single ever since. Not really looking for anyone either.”
“For real?”
“For real. Although…”
“Yes…?”
“Well, I came to camp in July. I was hoping to see a certain someone…”
“Me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goof. Who else?”
“You mean…?”
“Mmm hmm. But you missed your chance.”
“What’d you do instead?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know!”
“Just think,” I said. “Instead of spending time with you, I was digging up a septic tank. By hand.”
“Wow. You really got the better end of that deal.”
“No kidding!” I did my best Richard Dawson voice: “A hundred people surveyed, top five answers are on the board. Name something you’d rather do besides sex. Backbreaking manual labor? Ding, ding, ding!”
Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Who said anything about sex?”
“Oh, please!”
“So what about you?” she said. “Has Wren found you a girlfriend yet?”
“No. But not for lack of trying!”
“So… you and Leah?” Her tone carried more than a simple question.
“Leah and Mark,” I said firmly.
“There isn’t…?”
“Between Leah and me? Yeah, of course there is. But it’s hard to describe. She’s…” Like you and I used to be. I couldn’t say that aloud, so I stared at my half-eaten dinner instead.
“You really care about her.”
“Of course I do. She…” I’d started to say that she reminded me of Gina, but that wasn’t true. I never thought of Gina when I was with Leah. Oh, sure, they had a lot in common, from looks to attitude to personality, but they were different people.
“I think I understand.”
But she didn’t, and I didn’t correct her.
“So,” she said at last, “what do you do? In Knoxville, I mean. If you aren’t dating anyone, and you and Leah aren’t serious…” Her dark eyes danced with mischief.
“What do you think?”
“You must go through a lot of Kleenex.”
“Boxes!”
“I knew it!” she laughed.
“I should buy stock in the company.”
“You should. You’d make a fortune.”
“Yeah, but I’d blow it all buying more Kleenex.”
“Mmm.”
“What?”
“I was just thinking about you ‘blowing.’”
I rolled my eyes. “What about you? What do you do?”
She feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if you don’t have a boyfriend…”
“It’s the eighties. I’m a modern girl.”
“Which means…?”
“Let’s just say I should buy stock in Duracell.”
“Mmm hmm. That’s what I thought.”
“You can’t blame a girl for having an electronic friend.” She grinned. “Or two. And maybe a couple of non-electronic friends.”
“What about Regan? Do you…?”
“We do,” she admitted. “But it isn’t the same.”
“What isn’t?”
“You know,” she said after a moment.
“Know what?”
“What I like.”
“I do.”
Kara loomed over us and cleared her throat.
Gina and I pulled apart like we’d been caught behind the bleachers by the principal.
Seriously? Now?
“We’re headed home,” Kara said. Tessa and Victor stood behind her.
I looked around the restaurant. Almost everyone else had left.
“Don’t stay out too late.”
My hard-on had plans to do just that.
Too bad, I told it. You aren’t running the show.
It thought otherwise.
“We’ll be right behind you,” I told Kara.
She nodded a bit dubiously, but left with the others.
I glanced at Gina. “Big day tomorrow. You need a good night’s sleep.
Remember?”
“I…”
“Come on,” I said. “I’ll drive you home.”
The evening had turned chilly, and Gina shivered as the restaurant door swung closed behind us. I took off my coat and put it around her shoulders.
She thanked me with a smile and laced her fingers through mine.
We walked to the car in a silence filled with unasked questions.
I opened her door and helped her into the seat, but then lingered a moment.
She looked into my eyes.
“We don’t have to go straight home,” I said softly.
“No, we probably should.”
I leaned in.
Her lips parted, and she closed her eyes.
I kissed her.
“That was nice,” she said afterward.
“It was. But… are you sure you don’t want to…?”
She hesitated. “I’m sure.”
“Want me to change your mind?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry. I promised—”
It was her turn to kiss me, with a lot more heat than the first time.
I pressed the bulge of my erection into her leg. Then I ran a hand along the silky skin of her inner thigh, until my fingers brushed damp panties.
“I’ll take them off,” she panted. “But not here.”
My brain threatened to desert my head and run things from my penis. I resisted with an almost physical effort.
Gina felt it. She made a sound of frustration and reached for my belt.
I easily fended her off.
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course I do. Can’t you feel how much?”
“Then why…?”
I looked around at the nearly empty parking lot. “Here? Seriously? Our first time in… what? A year? More?” I shook my head.
“We could go somewhere.”
“Not tonight,” I said gently. “Tomorrow. In a real bed. With real sheets.”
She nodded.
“Maybe in a real hot tub, too.” I paused to imagine it. “Bent over a real desk. Up against a real door. On top of a real—”
She kissed me again. Her lips were full of hunger and desire.
I almost gave in.
A group of waiters saved me. They spilled out of the restaurant, talking and laughing.
“We can’t,” I said at last. “Not here.”
“You’re right.” She adjusted her dress. Then she grinned as I tried and failed to find a comfortable angle for my trapped hard-on.
“It’ll just have to suffer.”
She made a moue. “Poor thing.”
“Exactly. Now, let’s get you home before we change our minds.”
The woman from the Swan House gave orders like a drill instructor. Go here.
Stand there. Wait for this. Do that.
Not surprisingly, the wedding went exactly like it had in rehearsal.
Kara was radiant. Victor was nervous. Chris Coulter was unusually
dignified. (I found out later that Elizabeth had threatened him with “grievous bodily harm” if he cracked a joke when he presented the bride.) The minister was a refreshing mix of serious and lighthearted. The garden and fountains were the perfect backdrop. Even the weather cooperated with a beautiful fall day. Best of all, the whole ceremony took less than thirty minutes.
Victor and Kara walked up the aisle to cheers and applause, followed in a procession by the rest of the couples in the wedding party. I caught Gina’s eye and smiled, but was already headed around the left side of the seats.
Mark went around the right. Our job was to stand in the aisle and dismiss the guests by rows. We made it to our post before the coordinator had to threaten us with mess duty.
I went looking for Gina as soon as the last of the guests filed out. The reception was on the front lawn—the garden and fountains were actually the back of the house—so I edged along the stream of people climbing the terrace steps.