Asking For It (19 page)

Griffith was staring right at her — and he looked about as shell-shocked as she felt. Kate's heart went ka-blam, and then tried to beat out of her chest. The cushion fled. A thousand thoughts — a thousand denials burst in her brain.

Oh, my God. What? What had just happened?

She drew in a deep breath.

Griffith put his index finger on her lips. "Don't say it."

"What?" Her lips trembled beneath his finger.

"Don't say it was a mistake."

Kate felt as if he'd just pushed her off a cliff; it was the same horrible falling sensation.
Not a mistake
? Was he insane? With a firm movement, she lowered his finger from her lips. "I obviously don't have to say it." Her tone said, very clearly,
we both know it was
.

A mistake. An accident — a fluke.

She couldn't read his expression. All she knew was a pathetic gratitude that she'd regained enough possession of her limbs to stand up. She looked away. Being careful not to glance back, not to meet his eyes again, she walked away.

But even as she walked, she felt the invisible bonds between them stretch, as if they refused to break.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Once Kate had stalked off into the night, Griffith went back into the bunkhouse and fell asleep, his insomnia forgotten.

It was as if he'd finally accomplished something that had been left undone.

Which was ridiculous, Griffith told himself the next morning as he hustled nine kids out of their beds and into their clothes. He yawned and scowled and reckoned he hadn't accomplished anything the night before, except maybe to open a very iffy can of worms.

With one arm propped on a bunk bed, Griffith regarded the progress of his troops and reflected on the can of worms. He had no business kissing Kate. Not only was there the whole Wildwood thing between them — a little matter she didn't even know about! — but they lived in different worlds. Kate was outdoors, nature, kids. He was indoors, money games, grown-ups.

Griffith's scowl deepened.

"You wore that shirt yesterday," he told Elroy, who was pulling on a very dirty Star Wars T-shirt.

Elroy pulled his head out of the shirt sheepishly. "Does it matter?"

"It matters." Griffith pointed to Elroy's cubby, where a stack of clean shirts were folded. Elroy sighed and pulled one out.

He should be cleaning up his own act, Griffith thought, as he watched Elroy climb into a fresh shirt. He should start by keeping a good distance from Kate Darby. His
tenant
.

Had he really told her not to call that kiss a mistake? For the love of Pete. What else were they supposed to call it? He couldn't get
involved
with her.

Down at the other end of the bunkhouse, Orlando was snapping his fingers in front of Kane's face. The boy was sitting in a trance on his bed. "Wake up, dreamer. Time to get dressed."

Kane blinked and sent Orlando a blistering glare. "And who made you my boss?"

"I'm not your boss, but I am the assistant counselor in this bunk."

Kane sneered. "Since when?"

"Since now. Start getting dressed already." Orlando didn't wait for a reply, but walked past Kane to pat Asher on the shoulder, murmur something in Carlos's ear that made him laugh, and then continue on through the bunkhouse.

Kane scowled, but got up from his bed and trudged over to the clothes in his cubby.

Griffith, meanwhile, was transfixed. Orlando's behavior was almost exactly a match for the way he, himself, had taken charge two days ago. Orlando
was copying
Griffith.

A sensation sizzled through Griffith. It was a sensation close to what he'd felt the night before on the bunkhouse steps while looking into Kate's night-dark eyes.

It was a sensation that made him feel as if
this
was the world he actually lived in. A world made of people who saw him.

Who liked him.

Who even admired him.

Just him. Not his car, or his office, or his condo. Him.

Griffith abruptly straightened, taking his arm from the top bed. No, no, no. He was going off into crazy land again, just like last night. Nobody liked him, or at least not that much. He needed his car, his office, and his condo...and Wildwood. He'd be the laughingstock of the business community if he didn't follow through and build his 'dream community.'

"How does this look, Griffith?" Elroy planted himself in front of Griffith, his hands on his hips and his chest thrust forward in a Terminator T shirt. A hopeful smile graced his face.

The sizzling sensation assailed Griffith again, but he determinedly ignored it. "The shirt looks fine, Elroy. Just great."

Elroy's smile beamed.

Oh, boy
. Griffith turned away quickly. "Is everybody ready?" he asked.

"Almost," grunted Kane, hauling up his pants.

"That man needs shoes," Griffith observed, not seeing any sneakers near the kid.

"I'll find them." Orlando hurried up. "You get on your socks, Kane. We're almost there."

His previous dispute with Orlando forgotten, Kane rushed to his cubby for a pair of socks. Orlando tossed him a pair of shoes.

"All
right
," Griffith pronounced, while Kane was feverishly tying up his laces. "Take your places."

"It's Kane's turn to lead," someone said.

"I'm ready!" Kane hustled to the front of the line.

"Attention!" Griffith called. "And...march."

With each boy peering anxiously at the feet of the kid in front of him to keep time, they marched out of the bunkhouse. Griffith was taking the tail, and had just cleared the door when he saw Arnie standing at the bottom of the little porch's steps.

The big guy was grinning at the sight the boys made, but his expression sobered as his eye caught Griffith's. "Got a minute?" he asked.

Orlando glanced back at Griffith.

"You take 'em on in," Griffith directed his new, and apparently competent, assistant. "I'll be there shortly."

Orlando nodded, and continued on behind the marching line. Griffith turned to Arnie. Something serious was clearly on the guy's mind. Griffith wondered with fleeting chagrin if Arnie had witnessed Griffith's little scene with Kate the night before.

But Griffith was not a man to lay his cards down first. He clasped his hands behind his back, widened his stance, and gave Arnie a cool and noncommittal smile. "So, Arnie. What can I do for you?"

Arnie took a hasty glance around, grimaced, and took Griffith's elbow. "Let's go inside."

Griffith's eyes narrowed. But he said, "No problem," and led the way back into the bunkhouse.

The place seemed very quiet with no kids in it. Arnie took another careful look around, then dug something out of his front trouser pocket. "Here," he said. "I happen to know for a fact you don't have any, having gone through your pockets while you were unconscious last week." He thrust a small, orange box at Griffith.

"What the — ?" Fortunately, Griffith managed to suppress any expletive, which would only have made a harrowingly embarrassing moment even more so. Arnie was holding out a 12-pack of Trojans.

"I got a girlfriend in Taft," Arnie explained, "upon whom I won't have a chance to call until camp is over, and then I can buy another box."

Griffith could feel heat suffusing his face. He probably looked as red as a tomato.

Arnie shoved the box closer to him. "Go on, take 'em. You can bet the farm Kate doesn't have any."

Kate
. Griffith felt shame pushing close to his embarrassment. It hadn't even
occurred
to him... "I didn't think anybody saw us," he said stupidly.

"A blind man could see you," Arnie grunted. "Just take the damn things. Heaven knows, you're going to need them."

"No," Griffith replied, but stared at the box. He wasn't going to sleep with Kate. He'd already decided not to kiss her again. They were from different worlds. And he was going to destroy hers. He was committed to building Wildwood.

Arnie sighed.

Afraid that Arnie was about to put the condoms back in his pocket, Griffith reached out for them. "All right," he said, and shoved the box deep into his own trouser pocket. "Just in case."

Arnie raised his eyebrows. "You're welcome."

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Griffith looked over at him. "Thanks." The box felt like a chunk of lava burning his thigh. "But it's only just in case."

"Oh, sure," Arnie said.

~~~

Kate tried to pretend the kiss hadn't happened, but it was no use. During breakfast in the dining hall, she felt she was wearing her self-consciousness like a bright yellow slicker. No matter how she tried not to look in Griffith's direction or even notice he was in the room, she
did
notice. He was all she could notice, as if he were a purring panther, at rest, but still dangerous.

Somehow, Kate directed grace to be said, and even monitored the activity of her fourteen-year-olds over breakfast, but all the while she was aware of the panther. How was she supposed to forget him? Or forget what he'd said after that astonishingly intimate kiss? The first kiss she'd had of a man in a long, long while.

Don't say it was a mistake
.

Kate blinked and struggled to concentrate on the matter at hand, that being to eat breakfast and decide if she was going to trust ten teenagers to work sharp-bladed scythes in the ripe wheat.

But as the din of fifty campers echoed around the room, all she could think about — feel — was the purring panther, and that kiss.

"I...have to make a phone call," Kate declared.

Dorian, seated next to her, was the only one who acknowledged the remark. "Okay, Miss Kate."

She stood up. Griffith was at eight o'clock; she knew that without having to turn around. The left side of her body tingled. "I'll be upstairs," she told Dorian, "if anybody needs me."

"'Kay, Miss Kate."

She turned and, carefully avoiding a glance in Griffith's direction, strode out of the room.

To assuage a private charge of cowardice, Kate did make a phone call once she got to her office. She hadn't checked in with Ricky Ascensios in over a month. She ought to find out if he'd had any problem securing her building permit for the three new bunkhouses. Ideally, she'd begin construction directly after the last camp session, to ensure the bunkhouses would be ready for next summer. She retrieved her satellite phone from its secret hiding place behind the vacuum cleaner.

"Kate!" Ricky sounded delighted to hear from her, even though Kate could hear a noise in the background that sounded like the urgent pounding of a copier machine.

"Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"No, no. I just have to — Wait a minute." The noise of the copier dulled as Ricky apparently closed a door. "There. Now, how's everything going? You're in the middle of a camp session, right?"

As usual, Ricky was more abreast of Kate's schedule than made her comfortable. Although today, hearing the timbre of his voice, the purely friendly timbre, Kate wondered if she made too much of Ricky's attention to the details of her life. That seemed to be the way his mind worked, an immense and highly accessible library of details. His awesome memory had probably helped him do so well in law school.

"Smack dab in the middle of it," Kate replied, and immediately thought, with a sudden pitching sensation, that Griffith would be going home in less than a week. She sat, rather abruptly, in the office chair behind her desk.

"Listen," Ricky said. "I apologize. I know you're anxious to get those building permits."

"And I know you have enough of your own work to do. I didn't call to nudge."

Ricky chuckled. "Of course not. But I did want to...alert you. Nothing amazing, but you might want to hold off on signing any construction contracts, at least until I iron out a few kinks that have cropped up."

Kate frowned at the wall across the room. "A few kinks?"

"Nothing major. But I want to make sure everything is completely clear, you know. Just to be absolutely sure."

Kate continued frowning. "What kind of kinks?"

"Oh...it turned out I needed to do some research with the title company, and they wanted me to find more documents. It's just paperwork, really, but I have to warn you, it can drag out, time-wise."

Kate tapped the arm of her chair with her thumb. She was listening very carefully to Ricky's tone. "Any idea how much of a drag this is going to be, time-wise?"

"I wish I could tell you. Mm... Maybe October?"

October. That wouldn't be too bad, only a few weeks later than Kate had planned. But still — "What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by Ricky's laughter. "Is it so obvious?"

"Only because I've had experience with your guilty voice."

There was another pause on the line, a longer one. "All right," Ricky finally said, sounding resigned. "See, the thing is I've been kind of...distracted recently."