The Date Deal, page 6
Not that I expected anything any different, but Tate's directions are awesome. They’re easy to follow and it doesn’t take long until I’m pulling up the driveway at the camp. The first thing I notice is how empty and deserted everything looks. In fact, as I pull into the parking lot, I’m shocked to find it empty. Of course, parking lot is a loose term for the gravel spot where cars are instructed to park according to the signs posted around the area.
Once I park my car, I don’t get out right away. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best idea in the world to pack up everything and drive almost three hours without first checking to make sure someone would be here when I arrived.
But in my defense it is a freaking camp and everything I’ve ever read about it mentions that it's open year round. Heck, didn’t Tate say a new group would start soon? Maybe everyone's off on a field trip. Did camps do that? I don’t have a clue. The last time I was at a camp, I was ten and I hated it because it rained almost the entire time. After the first two days, they ran out of things for us to do and I got sent home early because a group of us broke into the kitchen on the third night to make s’mores in the oven and ended up setting off a few smoke detectors.
It’s probably for the best Tate didn’t ask about any previous camp experience I might have.
It’s not raining here and while it’s nippy out, it’s not that God awful cold that makes you so miserable you have to give yourself a pep talk before going outside. I decide an empty camp is perfect. I’ll walk around and orient myself with where everything is. The papers Tate gave me included a map, so I grab it from the pile I have sitting on the passenger seat, and step outside.
It’s colder here in the mountains than it was in Atlanta. I tug my coat on tighter and decide I’ll make the walk shorter than I’d planned. Without the keys to the guest house I’ll be staying in, I’ll be screwed if no one comes back tonight.
Damn it all. Why didn’t I tell Tate I was coming this weekend?
Right, because I’m an idiot, and I thought it’d be fun to surprise him. What I should have done is kept my ass in Atlanta and arrive this weekend like I was told.
Oh, well. I’m already here, there’s no use in turning around right this minute. I keep walking. It’s not far until I come up upon what must be the camp’s main campus. As I approach, I can’t shake the uncanny feeling of walking into a ghost town. It’s so eerie. All the buildings look as if someone should be walking around them, but there’s no one outside. Absent also is the sound of laughter and excited chatter. I can’t explain how but I sense this is a happy place.
I’m thankful for the signs each building has hanging on its outside as I continue to explore. I quickly locate two dormitories for boys and two for girls. They’re set across from each other and at one end is a large building. The sign says it’s the cafeteria and kitchen. From what I read, Tate’s personal living quarters are upstairs. I wonder if the entire second floor is his, or if he uses part for storage? From what I can see, it’s a large space, and I can’t imagine a single man requiring that much room.
At the other end of the dormitories is a clearing for what I suppose is for campfires. It’s easy to imagine children gathered around, filling up all the empty spaces laughing, singing, and roasting marshmallows.
I keep walking. Not too far away is a large lake. It’s beautiful, but of course, it’s surrounded by a fence. Which is locked. I’d like to visit, I’ve always enjoyed the water. Unfortunately, it’s too cold for anything water related. Besides, there will be plenty of time to explore the lake later.
I turn around and run smack into Tate.
He isn’t smiling. “Carsen, it’s you. Somebody tripped the alarm, and I was coming to see who it was.”
It doesn’t escape my attention he’s armed with only a cell phone. If it had been anybody dangerous, I can’t help but wonder if he planned on beating them up with his bare hands or pummel them upside the head with his smartphone. Although, as I think about it, it’s probably for the best he doesn’t have a loaded gun around children. Still, I can’t help but wonder what he would do in a real emergency. If there was a deranged man on his property, how could he protect the children and his staff?
Hopefully, he’ll never have to face that issue.
“I have to admit,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting it to be you.”
In short he’s saying, “You aren’t supposed to be here, so why are you?”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you weren’t expecting me until next weekend, but I got so excited, I changed my mind and decided to come today, I didn’t think it’d be a big deal, and I hope you don’t mind.” Without waiting for him to respond, I add, “Where is everybody? I feel as if you and I are the only ones here.”
“That’s because we are,” he says, his gaze steady on me.
Even though I know he doesn’t mean it in any sort of way, just hearing him speak those four words, makes my heart pound. I’m not about to let him know that, however.
“Oh,” I say, trying not to notice how the sweater he’s wearing pulls just so around his bicep. “Where is everybody?”
Instead of answering, he motions me towards the big building at the end. The one with the cafeteria on the first floor and his personal space on the second. “Come inside where it’s warm and we’ll talk.”
We walk together and he opens the door for me. I’m amazed at how nice it is inside. Nothing at all the way I pictured a camp looking. Everything, of course, is framed with wooden beams and logs, and the floors are hardwood. But somehow when put all together it’s not too much. Instead, it’s warm and inviting. There’s an odd sense of safety and security as we walk down a hall.
It’s warm, too. As we turn a corner, it is easy to see why. The hall ends in a large room and along the back wall is a huge fireplace. The flames inside beckon me to come close and warm my hands. Inviting couches and chairs are placed around the fire in a semi-circle. Off to the side, is what looks like an antique desk.
“I have another office upstairs, just outside of my quarters.” Tate says. “But a lot of time, especially in the winter, I work down here.”
“I can certainly see why,” I say. “I can picture getting a book, and reading on that couch for hours at a time.”
He laughs. “That’s exactly what I imagined them being used for when I planned this area. Unfortunately, everyone is so busy, they never have time to read.”
“That might be the saddest thing I’ve heard in my entire life.”
“Maybe I can get some reading done this week,” he says. “But I doubt it.”
He takes a seat on one of the couches and motions for me to join him.
As soon as I sit next to him, it’s almost as if he takes over my senses. I forgot how much of him there is. He always seems so slight when you see him far away but up close, he’s just there. You can’t get away from him, but you really don’t care.
Not only that, I forgot how he smells. I inhale, knowing I’ll never grow tired of it. It’s a masculine scent. Spicy. And is made up of all those secretive things he’ll whisper to you in the darkness of night.
“As I’m sure you can imagine,” he says and I realize, as much as I’ve been smelling him and thinking about how nice it is to sit next to him, he’s all business. I can’t let my thoughts get with me like that. “Most of my staff works nearly around the clock. In order to make sure no one gets burnt out, once every quarter, I close the camp and give them a week off.”
“That’s four weeks a year,” I say.
He raises his eyebrow as if he’s saying he knows how math works.
“Yes,” he says. “They work hard, and I feel they deserve it.”
“Wow.” That’s all I’m able to get out. I’ve never had a boss offer that much paid time off before. Tate’s looking at me as if expecting me to say something else. I only nod.
He continues, “Most of the staff will return starting Saturday. The rest will come on Sunday. We expect new campers to arrive on Monday morning, along with my day staff.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you on vacation?”
He laughs, and it is not the reaction I expected. The look on my face must convey this because it makes him laugh harder. “Having this place to myself is a vacation. I’m able to do a lot of things I can’t if the place is filled with campers and staff members. I enjoy the quiet, and I’ve never been one who enjoys having a large number of people around me at all times.”
That makes sense, after all, he does basically live in the middle of nowhere. I can somehow sense he’s the type of person who flourishes surrounded by nature and not the company of other people. But he also has that side of him that wants to help people, to make their lives better. It’s probably why he gave up baseball. The crowds. The noise. Never being alone.
“From what I can see,” I say. “You’ve managed to create the perfect balance. I love what I saw on my short walk, how you’ve set up the place and organized everything. Not to mention it’s a lovely location. Although I do wish it was warmer, I’d love to jump in the lake.”
“We have a group of people who like to do a polar bear swim.” His eyes are laughing at me, as if he knows I wouldn’t do it. I’ve never wanted to prove somebody wrong so badly before in my entire life.
“Interesting,” I say. “I might have to take part in that this year.”
“Unfortunately, they do it the first of the year, so you missed it.”
I decide to change the subject to something other than me becoming a human popsicle. “What are you working on this week? Any new projects keeping you busy or are you spending your time on the couch reading a book?”
“I have a stack of paperbacks in my To Be Read pile, but I never seem to do anything about it. Maybe when I retire.”
I laugh because I can already sense he will never retire. He’ll still be running this place when he’s ninety.
“Seriously, though,” he says. “I’ve been working on the music and fine arts room. Cleaning it up, painting it, that sort of thing. And now that you’re here, you can help.”
Even though I knew I would be working at the camp and that I'd be teaching children about music, I never extrapolated that to mean I’d also have my own private room. It’s borderline ridiculous how excited I am.
“I would love to help,” I say. “When do we start? Where’s it at?”
He chuckles. “It’s almost lunchtime, how about we grab something to eat, and then I'll show you where to put your bags at the place you’ll be staying, and then I’ll take you to look at the room?”
“Count me in.” I stand up. “What’s for lunch?”
“It’s just me here at the moment so I haven’t been doing much cooking. Maybe peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? A glass of milk?”
Shit. I knew I’d forgot something. “I didn’t tell you. I meant to, it just slipped my mind. I’m a vegan.”
He doesn’t look out of sorts. “Really? How interesting. I’ve met a few vegetarians, but never a vegan.”
I feel bad, I should’ve told him.
“It shouldn’t be an issue,” he continues. “We have all sorts of ingredients here, because of potential food allergies and different diets the children have.”
“I promise it won’t be an issue,” I tell him. “I can take care of my meals. I don’t need anybody to wait on me.”
“Regardless,” he says. “I’ll show you the kitchen and pantry, and you can have a quick look around. If you need anything, I don’t mind placing an order or picking it up. You’ll be here for a while, I want you to be comfortable.
I nod, but I don’t plan on asking for anything. Whatever’s in the kitchen I’ll make do with. I’m not a picky eater and I can typically find something to eat anywhere I go. I don’t see this camp being any different.
“We should probably hurry, the forecast this morning mentioned a slight chance of snow.”
I groan, I forgot I’m living in the mountains and things like snow happen here. “I hate winter,” I say. “Why can’t it always be spring?”
Eight
"Expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise." Alice Walker
“My grandmother always said,” I tell her. “That without rain, there is no growth.”
She tilts her head to the side and looks at me. I can’t look into her eyes long, I’ll get lost in them. I tell myself to shape up because she’s an employee.
All the while, she’s watching me and I sense she knows I’m arguing with myself. I can only hope she doesn’t guess over what.
“I wasn’t talking about the rain,” she says. “You mentioned sleet, or snow, or something else frozen. Rain I can handle, it’s all that other stuff I can’t stand.”
I laugh and it hits me that I don’t laugh very often. It’s her. Carsen.
Carsen who should not be here and who I should send right back home. If I was smart and listened to the rules, I would do exact thing.
But there’s a part of me that is tired of the rules, and it keeps growing every day. I don’t want to live by the rules anymore. I want to take a risk, to allow myself to be wild, to act like a normal person. For one day, I want to tell the rules to jump off a bridge. Or at least into the lake.
I listened to the rules while dating Darcy. Mostly anyway. Look what it got me. Nowhere. I’m a has been ex-baseball player who didn’t have a date to his ex-girlfriend’s wedding.
Carsen is different from Darcy. She is fun-loving, and that draws me to her. I want to explore that part of me. That part I’ve never allowed to have any control of my life. I want to take Carsen’s hand, throw caution to the wind, and see where we land.
Yes, I should send Carsen home. But I’m not going to. I want her here the entire week. Just me and her. The consequences be damned.
“Come on,” I say, after we eat a quick bite. “I’ll show you the guest house and help you bring your stuff inside. Then I’ll take you down to the music room and show you the rest of this place.”
It’s wrong, but I can’t help to compare Carsen’s reaction to the camp with Darcy’s. It’s not that I think Darcy didn’t like what I’ve built, she always seemed removed from everything. Or, I don’t know, maybe she only distanced herself from me.
Either way, Carsen is nothing like her new sister-in-law. I was never quite sure where I stood with Darcy, but Carsen is an open book. Her eyes grow big as she takes in the surroundings and questions me on how I designed and built everything.
When I show her the small out building I’ve decided will house our art program and the in progress music room, she covers her mouth with her hands and squeals. It’s unexpected, the last thing I’d have thought she’d done, and with that one outburst, I’m hooked.
Up until that moment she’s intrigued me. This beautiful woman who took a risk to save someone else and got punished for doing so. The sister of the man who married the woman I had been seeing. But after that moment, it all changes.
I think I do an amazing job at covering my reaction to the squeal that rocks my world. Or at least Carsen shows no signs of knowing anything’s changed. Crazy but I feel as if I gave her the fucking moon.
“You like?” I ask. It’s a definite work in progress. I’ve painted one wall with three colors hoping to find the perfect shade of blue. Cans of primmer line the bottom shelf of a dilapidated bookcase I’ll repair once I finish the walls.
Carsen brought some kid friendly instruments she tells me were donated once she spread the word about where she’d be for the next month. I have no idea what all those donations were, but I carried four boxes inside earlier in addition to her suitcase.
She’s still standing and looking as if I’ve given her a chest of jewels. “It’s perfect.”
I chuckle. “You’re a liar.”
“The way I see it in my mind is perfect,” she says and I love how she won’t back down from me or what I say.
“Far be it from me to argue with whatever’s in your head.”
At that she grins. “Glad you learned that one early. Most guys don’t and it’s a bore to repeat it over and over.”
“That’s because they don’t want you to leave them, so they fail on purpose and take a chance you’ll stay to repeat the lesson.”
The air between us crackles hotter than the fireplace in the lodge building and she feels it as well. Her eyes grow dark and her breath hitches when I step closer.
“And you,” she asks, her voice now only a whisper. “Why did you learn so fast? That eager to get rid of me?”
Another step closer. If I lifted my arm, I’d be able to touch her. “Not at all,” I assure her. “I passed because I’m taking a chance you’ll stay and teach me the next lesson.”
Her gasp goes straight to my dick and I remind myself to stand down so I don’t push her up against the blue wall and teach her a few lessons of my own. But I don’t back away. I step closer. I’m not going to push her against the wall, but I’m going to kiss her.
She stops breathing when I lower my head and whisper, “Tell me, Carsen. What’s the next lesson?”
She doesn’t answer and I don’t care because she’s not moving away. My lips are mere millimeters from tasting her when a horn alerts us to a vehicle coming down the private path.
“Damn deliveries,” I curse. She giggles. Our lips are so close I swear I feel her body vibrate. As if hearing my thoughts, she steps forward, brushing me in the process. The smile she gives proves she knows exactly what she’s doing. I moan because I feel her smile all the way down to my dick.
“I don’t want to go out there,” I say. What’s left unsaid is what I want to be doing, but that’s probably for the best.
“Is it important?” she asks.
“Is what important?”
“Whatever the man outside in the truck is blowing his horn about. The truck parked in the gravel right now?”
