The comeback cowboy, p.3
The Comeback Cowboy, page 3
But she hadn’t expected him to call her out on how she’d ignored him for the past two years. She hadn’t thought he’d even noticed, and yet it seemed he had. And if she wasn’t much mistaken, he was annoyed about it.
Something warm flickered deep inside her at that thought, but she ignored it. Just as she ignored the memory of that charged moment between them, irritation and something more, something hotter, making the air crackle around them.
Ugh. A man shouldn’t be allowed to be that sexy, especially not him.
She very much wanted to keep lying like a slug in bed, but since everyone else was getting up, she hauled herself out of her sleeping bag, muttering a calming mantra under her breath.
Today, she’d keep that temper of hers under wraps. She’d handled sharing a room the night before, and now she’d handle getting up at 6:00 a.m. No, she hadn’t been expecting any of this, but she wasn’t going to let Flint Decker turn her into a moaner. She wasn’t going to complain again. She’d handle anything that was thrown at her, and she’d ace this just like she’d aced it back when she’d been fourteen.
Besides, apart from anything else, there were the future campers to think about. The kids who needed someone to give them order and boundaries and, most of all, to care. That’s what they needed. Just one person to care, and she did. After all, she’d been one of them.
Ten minutes later, Bree staggered out into the darkness to the lawn in front of the admin cabin. Clementine strode beside her, all bright-eyed, with Kinley trailing silently behind them. Violet was still in the cabin doing something with her makeup, which Bree found ridiculous. What was the point of makeup at camp?
She’d almost made a snarky comment, then had bitten it back at the last moment, because she’d sworn to herself she wasn’t going to be snarky today. Today was for positive vibes only.
Four men stood on the porch of the admin cabin.
Jackson in the middle, gray eyes steely, holding his bullhorn in an iron grip. He was handsome for a tyrant, as was the man standing to the left of him, a lazy smile on his face. Lincoln Traeger, one of Jackson’s friends and a US marshal. He had eyes the color of dark bourbon, and they were currently fixed on the counselors cabin as if he was looking for someone. Duke Cody, Sheriff Decker’s sergeant, stood beside Lincoln. He had the bluest eyes Bree had ever seen and he was grinning too, though at Clementine, and she was grinning back as if the two of them were sharing some private joke.
Bree found it much easier to look at the other men—they were all very easy on the eyes—than it was to focus on the tall, broad figure of Flint Decker, standing at Jackson’s right. He was in his camp T-shirt and jeans, and he had his hat on, because of course he had his hat on. She was also conscious that he was staring at her, which made something she didn’t like flutter uncomfortably in her stomach, reminding her of that first day of camp years ago, when he’d been introduced by Bill as a counselor and she’d realized that he was the cop who’d arrested her.
But she wasn’t going to think about that. It was positive vibes only today, and that meant being especially positive and pleasant around Flint, since he was the one who bugged her the most. Also, she’d already complained to him once; there would not be a second time.
Keeping a smile on her face, she directed the full force of it at him. His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed into thin, suspicious slits of emerald, as if he found her smile insulting in some way.
“Get on with it, Jackson,” Kinley growled unexpectedly from behind her.
Bree forgot about Flint and almost turned to look at the other woman. Kinley had been silent all last evening in the cabin and during the incredibly awkward meal in the dining hall, and she hadn’t said a single thing this morning either, apart from muttering about killing Jackson. Bree had just about forgotten she was there.
Then Jackson raised his bullhorn. “Attention, everyone,” he barked through it, though he was scowling at Kinley. “Lateness will not be tolerated. You are to be here at 6:00 a.m. sharp every morning for the climb up Hollyhock Hill. The flag will be raised, then daily chores will be distributed.”
“Relax, Jackson.” Violet, who had finally come out of the cabin, sauntered over to where everyone stood. She was made up perfectly, her hair glossy, and she wore another flouncy, pretty maxidress. There was a slight smile on her face. “I’m not that late. And we’re not campers, remember? We’re here to get the camp ready for the actual campers.”
“You’re staying here, which means you’re campers,” Jackson said flatly, still through the bullhorn. “Lateness involves a penalty. You’re on latrine duty today, Violet.”
Violet’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but Jackson rolled on like a freight train. “Since it’s the first day and you’re the first ones here, we’ll do the chore distribution now. By the way, other volunteers will be arriving in the next couple of weeks, so don’t worry—you won’t be renovating the entire camp yourselves. Okay, so today, Lincoln will assist Violet with looking at what we need to do with the art hall. Clementine, you and Duke can check out the other cabins and get a list of materials we’re going to need in order to get them habitable.”
A sudden tension gripped Bree. Lincoln was with Violet; Clementine was with Duke. That meant...
“Bree, you’re with Flint. You two have a special job and he’ll give you more info about it after breakfast. Kinley, you’re going to be in charge of the cooking. Come with me and I’ll show you around the kitchen.”
There was an audible growl from Kinley, while Bree very much wanted to growl too, positive vibes be damned. Of course she was with Flint. Why was she with Flint? Perhaps if Kinley didn’t want to be with Jackson, she could be with Jackson instead.
“I could go with you instead, Jackson,” Bree said, totally forgetting she wasn’t going to complain. “Kinley might prefer to be with Flint—”
“There’s a reason you’re with Flint,” Jackson interrupted, frowning at her. “And like I said, he’ll tell you about it later. After we’ve gone up the hill for the flag raising and some exercise.”
Flint’s handsome face gave absolutely nothing away, but she was sure she could see something that looked like satisfaction in it. As if he knew something she didn’t.
Wonderful. This day was off to a great start.
“Exercise?” Violet muttered, frowning down at her maxidress. “No one said anything about exercise.”
“It’s camp,” Clementine said perkily, already starting toward the hill as if she couldn’t wait to get up it. “There’s always exercise at camp.”
Violet muttered something unrepeatable, while Kinley was stomping angrily in Clementine’s wake. Bree couldn’t help glancing again to where Flint stood, arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes still narrow slits.
She had no idea what the hell his problem was, but she didn’t like it.
It was tempting to return his challenging stare with one of her own, but she resisted, giving him another of her perfectly pleasant, professional smiles before turning around and heading determinedly up the hill after the others.
She could remember doing this, tramping sulkily up the pine-covered slope and loathing every second. Not wanting to take part in any of the activities and isolating herself from everyone. At least, she had at first. Before Bill had taken her personally under his wing, pairing her with a girl from another cabin and giving them the job of preparing all the canoes that were used for water activities on Crow Lake. She hadn’t wanted to do it and had protested mightily, but then she’d discovered that doing a task with someone else made it easier, not to mention more pleasant. Especially if you and that someone were friends.
She’d learned a good life lesson that day, about how to put her anger aside and work effectively with others. About how to make friends, ask for help when she needed it, and how to be polite and respectful, and not an animal.
Lessons that had proved vital to her finishing school and getting a good job, and not ending up in jail like the rest of her family. Which had always been her goal.
She wasn’t going to be a typical member of the White family, a small-time career criminal.
She wanted more than that, and so she’d gone out and gotten it, all thanks to Camp Phoenix.
An hour or so later, exercised, showered and breakfasted, everyone scattered to do their assigned chores. Violet and Kinley muttered imprecations about theirs and, quite frankly, Bree related.
She wanted to drag her heels, but that would be letting Flint get to her, and she was not, under any circumstances, going to let Flint get to her.
He was waiting for her just outside the dining hall as she came out, his arms still folded, dumb hat firmly on his head. “Ready to go?”
Bree gave him her Realtor smile again. “Oh, absolutely. But first, you’re going to have to tell me where it is we’re going and what it is we’re doing.”
Amusement glittered in Flint’s green eyes, and though she wasn’t sure why, she had a feeling it was at her expense. “Jackson wants to get some sponsorship from some of the business owners in Jasper Creek to help fund the purchase of materials. Plus, he needs someone to allay fears about a bunch of young criminals being in the vicinity.”
Instantly, Bree stiffened, feeling a flicker of defensiveness since she’d been one of those young criminals herself. “They’re not criminals. Not at that age.”
“Hey, I know that,” Flint said. “Nevertheless, we’ve had a few protests. So I thought we could kill two birds with one stone. You can help with the sponsorship, since you know a lot of the business owners, and I’ll help allay fears, since that’s kind of my wheelhouse.” He paused a moment, then added, “You’re a camp graduate too, and if anyone can get them on board with the camp, you can.”
The fluttering feeling in her gut fluttered harder, but she shoved it away. She wasn’t going to find Flint Decker sexy as hell, and she certainly wasn’t going to let her head get turned with his subtle compliment either.
“Fine,” she said coolly. “I’d better get changed, then. I didn’t think I’d be going into town to talk to people and—”
“You don’t need to change.” Flint’s gaze dropped to her legs, which were currently bare due to the jean shorts she’d put on earlier in anticipation of hiking up Hollyhock Hill. “You’re fine as you are.”
It was silly to blush because he was looking at her legs, yet she blushed all the same. “Nevertheless—”
“Leave the shorts,” he interrupted again, and he unfolded his arms, thrusting out a small bundle of black material at her. “But you could put this on.”
Bree took it and shook it out. It was a Camp Phoenix T-shirt exactly like the one he was wearing. Normally she would have loved it—it was a pretty cool T-shirt—but the real issue was that if she put it on, then they would be wearing the same thing.
Twinsies. Ugh.
Positive vibes only, remember?
Bree could feel her smile become wooden. “Okay, not a problem.” Then, in a bid to stay in control of the situation, she added, “We can take my car if we’re going into Jasper Creek. It’s electric. Save on gas.”
Flint’s gaze slid from her legs over to the parking area. “Sure. Unless you forgot to plug it in, and since I didn’t see any cord running from it last night, I’m pretty sure you did.” His gaze gleamed. “Which means we’ll be taking my truck.”
Bree bit back a curse. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. She’d been planning to organize some power after dinner the night before, but she’d gotten distracted by Violet arranging her fairy lights around her top bunk, then laying down a rug, of all things, and then pillows, and after that performance, having to charge her car had completely slipped her mind.
She didn’t want to drive in Flint’s truck. She didn’t want him being in charge of getting her to and from camp. She didn’t want to spend the whole day in his company, with his stupid sexy T-shirt, and his stupid sexy green eyes, and his stupid, stupid hat.
And she definitely did not want her stupid heart to beat the way it was beating now, far too fast and far too hard.
What she wanted was to be far away from him and all the memories he brought back. Of feeling his heavy hand on her shoulder at the 7-Eleven that night as she’d walked out with her stolen food. Of feeling her stomach plummet into her sneakers as she’d turned and seen his green eyes first, then his badge.
He’d been patient with her but firm, making her return what she’d stolen. Then he’d put her in the back of his patrol car. She’d been furious because she’d only stolen the food because she was hungry. Her mother had spent the family’s grocery money for the week bailing Bree’s father out of jail yet again, and she hadn’t eaten. And she’d hated the pity in Deputy Decker’s green eyes, the way there was always pity in all the eyes of the adults she came into contact with. And she’d kind of hated herself too.
Because she’d always been determined she wouldn’t be like her family. She wouldn’t take the easy way out. She’d get away from them one day and make something of herself, and her success would definitely be on her own merit. It would have nothing to do with breaking the law.
But not that night. That night, she’d slipped up, and she hated remembering it. Especially when it wasn’t her now. She was Bree White, Realtor. Not Bree White, petty shoplifter.
Flint raised one dark brow. “Well? My truck? Or would you like to walk instead?”
Bree couldn’t find her pleasant smile or her positive vibes; they’d all vanished. All she had left was a scowl, so that’s what she gave him. “Fine. We’ll take your stupid truck.”
CHAPTER FOUR
FLINT HAD EXPECTED much more firecracker and much less frost on the drive to Jasper Creek, and he had to admit he was disappointed.
Bree sat in the truck next to him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her black hair in its neat, shining ponytail. She was very contained today, the same cool expression on her face as there had been the day before, and he would’ve thought she’d put the wildcat on ice if it hadn’t been for the rigid way she was sitting. As if she had to keep herself very still in case she flew apart.
Getting them to partner up today might have been a mistake, but he’d discussed it with the guys the night before and they’d all agreed it was logical that he and Bree be the ones to do the sponsorship drive.
She had the business connections, while he had the respect of his office, plus the experience to put people’s doubts about the camp to rest. And there had been a few rumbles about “juvenile delinquents” and “young criminals” being near town and how there was the potential to cause trouble.
Flint understood people’s worries. He’d been one of those delinquents himself once, stealing cars and racing them on backcountry roads, drinking far too much beer and heading toward dropping out of school. Until his mom had started dating the sheriff. He’d hated Bill at first, and then Bill took an interest in him. Flint’s dad had never been in the picture and Flint didn’t realize he needed a father figure until Bill turned up. The relationship with Flint’s mother didn’t last, but Bill continued to take an interest in him. And eventually he stopped stealing cars and started studying. Then he joined the police force as soon as he graduated and never looked back.
Bree clearly didn’t want to look back either. So much so that she barely seemed to tolerate being in his vicinity. Perhaps, to save them a whole bunch of trouble, he should have waited to do this with her until she’d gotten used to the whole camp thing again. Then again, maybe it was better to tackle their past now. Take the bull by the horns, so to speak.
“So, are you going to answer my question?” he asked after the silence had sat there way too long and it was clear she wasn’t going to break it.
She’d turned her head, looking pointedly out the window. “What question?”
“Why you’ve been ignoring me for the past two years.”
“I was not ignoring you.” The breeze blowing through his open window toyed with the ends of her hair. ‘I simply didn’t remember who you were.”
Flint gave a short bark of laughter because that was ridiculous. “I see. So that’s why you mentioned the whole ‘gee, Officer, thanks for arresting me’ thing yesterday. Because you ‘simply didn’t remember’ who I was.”
The flush in Bree’s pretty cheeks deepened. “Okay, fine,” she said, her voice on the edge of a snap. “I did remember you. I just...” She let out an annoyed breath. “What do you care anyway?”
Good question. Why did he care? It was uncomfortable to think that it might simply be stung masculine pride over the lack of acknowledgment from a pretty woman. He hadn’t thought his pride was that fragile. If a woman wasn’t into him, he moved on; it wasn’t a big deal.
It’s this woman, though. That’s the issue. She’s different.
Flint did not like that thought one bit. Bree was beautiful and he’d admit to that flicker of attraction, but she wasn’t different. And he wasn’t going to get into thinking about how she was different either. His brain could shut the hell up.
“I don’t care,” he said flatly. “I was only making conversation.”
Another tense silence fell, one that lasted all the way into Jasper Creek, and he kept his mouth shut, because he’d be damned if he broke it first.
Jasper Creek had a pretty main street, with flags hanging from lampposts and porches, hanging baskets of flowers, and rows of historic old stores.
Flint parked the truck and got out. Bree did the same and he tried not to pay any attention to how the black cotton of the T-shirt pulled tightly across the curves of her full breasts. The black cotton suited her, the gold lettering somehow drawing gold fire from her dark eyes.
He wasn’t going to look at her legs in those little shorts again. Nope. That wasn’t happening.
