Carsen’s recovered enough to grab her phone where I put it on top of the bed. “Elliott. Elliott.” She’s shrugging on a tee-shirt and jeans. I hope to God she’s not walking outside. “Will you shut up for five seconds? Jesus. How is it possible you can be such a dick halfway around the world?”

  She walks down the hall into my private office and closes the door. She obviously wants to talk to her brother alone seeing as how my office is the only space on the second floor, except for the bathroom, with a door. It’s just as well, I know I don’t want to hear anything Elliott’s saying at the moment.

  But I want to know what’s going on. Obviously he had a reason to call his sister in the middle of the night and I’m assuming it wasn’t to perform a bed check. Does he even know she’s here? We haven’t talked about her older brother. For the past week we’ve been living in our own little world and we’ve done a fantastic job shutting everyone else out. Elliott’s call tonight is the wake up call we need.

  I stay in my bedroom, not wanting to be the obnoxious hovering boyfriend. Boyfriend? Is that what I am? After one night? I scrub my hand through my hair. I’m a fucking mess, mainly because I didn’t just disregard or ignore my rules, I destroyed them with a wrecking ball and then for good measure, ran over them with a bulldozer.

  For seven years, I’ve followed those rule. I haven’t liked them and many times, I’ve wanted to pretend they never existed. But I never have. Not until Carsen Taber, the one woman out of all the women in the world I should leave alone, crossed my path.

  I hear her coming down the hall. She’s no longer on the phone as far as I can tell. I stand up, wanting to support her no matter what her brother told her. It hits me as I wait for her to enter my bedroom, where I have all intentions of making good on our vow for round four, that if I had the chance to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

  Some other woman might look sheepish after what had to be an uncomfortable talk with her older brother. Not Carsen. She looks revived. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes show no signs of being sleepy.

  She strides into my room like it’s something’s she’s done every day and throws her phone on the bed before climbing on top herself and scooting over to sit next to me. My arms wrap around her and I have to hold back from lowering my head to kiss her. Later, I silently promise.

  “How is Elliott tonight?” I ask like he wasn’t ready to string me up by my balls less than fifteen minutes ago.

  “He’s pretty upset, but you gathered that from what you heard.” She tosses her head back, letting those gorgeous silky locks fall behind her, swaying. I shove my hands under my thighs so I’m not tempted to reach out and run my fingers through the strands. “Thank goodness he and Darcy extended their honeymoon or else I’m pretty certain he’d be on his way over here.”

  I wasn’t aware they had extended their honeymoon but then again, there’s no reason for them to tell me about their plans.

  “Why did he call, is something wrong?”

  She bites her lip. “He needed some insurance information.”

  Why would he call her? He has to know there’s no way she could get that information tonight. Unless….

  “He didn’t know you were here.”

  She looks down to her lap. “He’s on his honeymoon for crying out loud. It’s not like we’re talking daily. Hell, all I got when they decided to stay in Italy longer was a two sentence text. Waiting until he and Darcy got home made the most sense.”

  “I’m not upset. I was simply stating a fact.” The very last thing I want to do is argue with Carsen, especially over Elliott.

  “Sorry.” She shrugs. “I guess I feel a little sensitive about it.” She cocks her head. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. I’m an only child.” I always wondered if I’d have been pushed into baseball the way I had been if I’d had an older sibling to take some of the heat from my dad.

  She puts her hand on my thigh and all thoughts of my dad disappear. “Sometimes,” she says. “I wish I was an only.”

  No you don’t, I want to tell her. I’ve seen her with Elliott. Granted, only a few times. But even those few times were enough for me to see how close they are.

  “Only because he interrupted us,” she says and her fingers inch up my leg. I’d thrown a pair of boxers on at some point, but that’s all I’m wearing. I love how she’s making a move on me and isn’t afraid to take charge and let me know what she wants. It turns me on even more.

  “Is that so?” I can’t help but tease. “I seem to remember someone snoring when I first heard the phone ring and then that same person threw a pillow over her head and told me to make it stop.”

  She’s leaning into me and I lower myself a bit to show her I want her to keep going. She stops though, hovering above me, so close, but not touching me.

  “I was going to wait for you to get back in bed after you made it stop. Unfortunately, you did more than make it stop, you answered it and because of that, I couldn’t show you what I wanted. Instead, I had to talk with my brother.”

  I almost tease her a little more. After all, it was her phone, not to mention, her brother. But Elliott Taber is the last person I want to think about at this moment. Much less discuss him. And I certainly don’t want to discuss him with Carsen Taber. Not when she’s in my bed and there are so many other things I’d rather be doing. “Come a little closer and show me what you were going to.”

  She tilts her head like she has to give it some thought. “I may have misspoke. It’s not so much what I want to show you. It’s more like what I want to do to you.”

  She doesn’t wait. Wasting no time, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of my boxers and pulls them down just as I’m moving up the bed to get us into a more comfortable position.

  Two sharp tugs and my cock is free and pointing at her. “Mmm,” she hums. “I would ask if you liked my plan so far, but there doesn’t seem to be a point. Not with all this evidence in my face.”

  “Damn, Carsen,” I’m able to get out of my mouth seconds before she takes me in hers. I fall onto my back and she comes over me. If I were to die tonight, I’d leave this world and my only regret would be that I wasn’t be able to spend more time with her.

  I watch as she moves, the way she bobs up and down as she works on me. It’s been so long since anyone’s gone down on me and even having already climaxed three times, I feel it approach. “Carsen,” I manage to whisper, but she doesn’t stop or even give any sign she heard me.

  “Carsen,” I say again, but louder this time and I fist my hand in her hair. Still she doesn’t budge. “I can’t stop myself,” I say even as I arch my back in a futile attempt to do just that.

  She nods her head and scratches my thigh in the hottest invitation I’ve ever received while having a blow job.

  “Fuck.” I wish I had the ability to hold out longer than I’ll be able to. But the feel of her mouth, wet and hot engulfing me is too much, and I thrust up and into her mouth, emptying myself.

  I’m expecting her to spit or run into the bathroom or something. Instead, she slowly sits up and proceeds to swallow every last drop and then licks her lips as if she wants more.

  With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she says. “You taste better than any man should be allowed to.”

  “I wasn’t sure, you know, with you being a vegan and all.” I’m shocked I managed to say it with a straight face.

  “What?” She wrinkles her nose.

  “I mean, technically, it is an animal product since I am an animal.”

  She continues to look at me like I’ve lost my entire mind.

  “Come on,” I say. “I can’t be the only person who’s ever asked you that before.”

  “You are actually,” she says between giggles.

  “I want to know if I should be on the look out for some sort of sign that your body’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

  She grabs a pillow and throws it my head. The one on top of my shoulders, not the one that just defiled her vegan body.

  “Anaphylactic shock? Get real. Are you kidding me?”

  I rub my chin, thinking and tilt my head. “Hmm, I don’t know. You may not want to be so hasty in your denial.” I squint my eyes. “Is that a hive?” I point to her shoulder.

  She lifts her hand to check. “I swear to God, Tate.”

  I’m still squinting. Still trying to act as if I have no idea what’s on her shoulder. There’s nothing there, but I don’t have a mirror in my bedroom, so there’s no way for her to be sure without going into the bathroom and I’m not about to let her off the bed.

  I move closer to her. She’s eyeing me, trying to tell if I’m pulling her leg or not. I am, but I will literally pull both of them as soon as I’m able to reach them. Pull them both and spread them wide enough so I can fit between them and give back to her what she gave to me.

  Minus the smart-ass vegan comments.

  She allows me to take her face in my hands and I kiss her before lowering my gaze to her neck. “I must have been seeing things. I swore I saw something here.”

  She doesn't protest as I drag my lips and nibble my way down to her neckline. “Hmm,” I hum against her skin. “No marks here at all. Only tasty Carsen.”

  I slip my hand between us and tease the skin on her belly. When did she get naked again and how the hell did I miss that? “Know what I’m going to do now?”

  “Please.”

  “Please what?”

  “Please, Tate.”

  “You have to be more specific. ‘Please, Tate, move your hand,’ or ’Please, Tate, don’t stop and while you’re at it, go ahead and put your mouth on me as well’?” I move my fingers lower so they rest right above where she wants me.

  “Oh, God.” She sucks in a breath. “The second one. Tate, please.”

  Unable to wait any longer, I do what we both want and lower my body so I’m able to return to her every pleasure she’d given me.

  By the time I finish, we’re both too exhausted to do anything other than mumble a few words, pull the covers over us, and fall into a deep sleep, hoping somehow we can somehow pretend it will not be time to get up a handful of hours.

  Twelve

  "If you cannot be a poet, be the poem." David Carradine

  The sun wakes me up the next morning and I have nothing nice to say about it streaming through the windows, determined to wake me up. Especially when I roll over and Tate’s not in the bed with me. There’s a note on his pillow.

  * * *

  Sorry I couldn’t be here when you woke up. The food truck arrives between five-thirty and six. You were sleeping soundly, and I didn’t want to wake you up.

  * * *

  He was trying to be nice and not wake me up; I get that. Really. But why do I feel bad he didn’t? It’s crazy to even think about being mad at him when he did what he did because he was being kind by letting me sleep a little bit longer.

  My problem with being allowed to sleep in hits me while I’m getting dressed. In choosing to let me sleep, Tate is showing me he doesn’t see us together, not outside of the bedroom, anyway. We’re not a team because I’m an outsider who should be left to sleep in. Not an equal who is expected to pull their own weight.

  Like I said, crazy right?

  But that’s my mood when I turn my phone back on, surprised to see no new calls, texts, or emails from Elliott. I’d turned it off last night after talking with him because I knew he’d text or send me emails after we hung up. Okay, after I hung up on him. But seriously, what other option did I have? The conversation was going nowhere. All he did was keep repeating, “You are not working at that camp.”

  Of course that was because he probably didn’t believe me when I told him Tate mistakenly picked up my phone when it rang and the reason he was so close to it was that we had the kids pretending to camp out in the main lodge. Not the best lie in the entire world, but I was functioning on very little sleep and copious amounts of hot sex. In all honesty, it’s a miracle I could speak at all.

  Like I said, I’m sure he didn’t believe me, but there’s no way he knows the camp is closed this week. And even if he knew the truth, all it would do is piss him off and I don’t want that for him on his honeymoon. It’s not like he'll drop everything and come home just because I slept with Tate.

  I’m not sure I’ll ever tell him. I mean, seriously, I’m only here for a month and Tate and I are both aware that nothing will come of this fling. Why the hell should I tell my older brother anything? I don’t know, nor do I care to know, all the women he’s been with. And I know for a fact, there were quite a few.

  I make my way downstairs content and decided with the decisions I’ve made. I’m wearing the clothes I had on yesterday but no one other than Tate and I know that and it’s not like I had them on for a long period of time anyway. We never got around to moving my things into the main building and now that I’ve had time to think about it, I believe I’ll stay in the guesthouse.

  Though I expected differently, only silence greets me on the first floor. You can see the parking lot from one of the windows in the main house, so I walk over to that window and look outside. Surprisingly, my car is the only one in the parking lot at the moment. Was I mistaken? Was today not the day people would begin to return to camp? I replay my conversations with Tate and I’m certain today is the day.

  But there is no one else here yet. Granted, it’s not even nine yet.

  I follow the sound of clinking cans and the shuffling of boxes coming from the pantry. It’s Tate. I stand for a while, just watching. I particularly like the way his muscles move under his shirt because it brings to mind they moved above me last night. I think I’m being relatively quiet, so he must sense me.

  He turns around, and a large grin covers his face. “Good morning.”

  He has a faint sheen of sweat along his forehead and that sure as hell shouldn’t be hot, but it is. It makes me think of hot and dirty sex and even though I lost count over the number of orgasms I’ve had within the last twenty-four hours, my body craves more.

  I walk over and put my arms around him, and he responds by giving me a kiss. Damn, I could get used to this. I pull back and laugh at his happy morning face because I haven’t seen it this early in the day the entire time I’ve been here. “Someone must have already had a cup of coffee.”

  He nods and says, “More like two or three.”

  “I need to find some.” I pull away. “What time will people start arriving?”

  “Probably not until after lunch.” He looks around at the piles of food items still left to put on the shelves. “Hopefully, I’ll have all this put away by then.”

  “Let me grab some coffee and I’ll come help.”

  “You don’t have to, you know?”

  I stop, turn back to him, and put my hands on my hips. “Tate Maddox. If you honesty think I’m going to sit here and do nothing while you work your ass off, you are sorely mistaken.”

  “In that case, hurry up, grab your coffee, and then get your butt back in here.”

  I nod. “That’s more like it.”

  “Then we’ll go back upstairs because all this talk of asses makes me want to see yours again.”

  Men. “Please. I said ass one time. One.”

  “Carsen, when you have an ass like yours, once is all it takes.”

  * * *

  TATE

  * * *

  Carsen admitted last night she was anxious about the arrivals who would start showing up today. I told her she had nothing to worry about because she would fit in fine.

  Normally, only a handful of staff return on Saturday, most of them opting for Sunday afternoon. Today is no different and by five o’clock, there are only nine of us total on the camp campus.

  Everyone is excited to meet Carsen. They know how long I’ve wanted an arts program here. As predicted, they all love her and it’s not long before my amazing staff is treating her like one of our own and like she’s been here forever.

  Carsen and I agreed not to mention the community service. The story we’ve decided to tell everyone is that she’s working her way to Nashville and agreed to work at the camp for a month. She knows that the position could be extended if we both agree to do so.

  It’s close enough to the truth that neither one of us should get tongue tied trying to remember how it goes. But more importantly, it’ll keep the focus off of Carsen’s unfortunate run-in with the Holts.

  At the moment, she off to the side of the fireplace talking with a group of counselors. She’s only half listening, every so often she’ll look around the room, her eyes not stopping until they meet mine. Whenever they do, we smile. I want to tell her that if she’s going for subtle, that’s not the best way to go about it. Our actions aren’t going unnoticed, but I know my staff and no one will say anything to either of us about it. Likewise, they know not to say anything behind our backs.

  She told me earlier in the afternoon she wants to stay in the guest house. I’m a little disappointed. It would be so much easier for us to continue whatever it is we’re doing if we were both under the same roof, but it’s not impossible with her at the guest house.

  Deep down, I know she made the right choice not to remain in the main building. But that doesn’t mean I like her being in a separate building.

  She slides up to me at dinner while we’re both getting our drinks. For a few seconds, we’re alone. I feel her come up behind me, we’re not touching but if I were to take the smallest step back, we would.

  “Can you come to the guest house later tonight or should I come up with a reason to swing by the main building?” She asks in a whisper so no one else can hear her question.

  I stop for a second to think about where the staff who arrived today will be staying. Most of them live behind the dorms, although a few of them have rooms inside the dorms.

  “Are you sure you want to get together tonight?” I ask her in a whisper of my own. “I thought you didn’t want to since you chose to stay in the guesthouse?”