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Authors: Ann DeFee

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BOOK: Hill Country Hero
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Chapter Fourteen

A couple of days later Jake had just finished his morning workout when CiCi threw him a curveball. Camping? She wanted him to take forty kids camping? For two days? The only thing he knew about the great outdoors was what he’d learned at his ranch.

“I didn’t exactly graduate from the Paul Bunyan school of Fine Camping.”

“Oh, pooh. If I can do it, you can, too. Several of our counselors are majoring in outdoor activities. Besides, we won’t be that far from civilization.”

“Okay,” Jake agreed. What choice did he have? She was his boss.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, I have to talk to Cookie about our meals,” she said with a cheeky grin. “If I had to cook, I’m afraid we’d all starve. The good news is that if you get too homesick for your bunk, you can always hitch a ride back to camp.”

He wasn’t likely to do that. Who knew, two days in a sleeping bag on the ground might be a welcome break from the horrible bed that threatened to cripple him every night. Where was that bed she’d promised?

 

C
I
C
I WAS TRYING
to appear confident, but when it came to camping, she was a neophyte. And to be perfectly honest
she was a little surprised that he was as much of a newbie as she was.

She made herself put all thoughts of Jake aside when she met with the cook.

“I suggest we go with hot dogs, sandwiches, cereal, marshmallows, campfire kind of stuff,” Cookie suggested. She’d been preparing meals at Camp Touchdown for years. “Nobody’s gettin’ sick on that.”

“Sounds good to me.” CiCi actually hadn’t considered e-coli or salmonella. All she wanted was to make sure the kids were fed and happy, and if she could keep them occupied that would be a bonus.

The campground was five miles down the river—close enough to town for emergency services, but far enough away to make the kids feel as if they were having a wilderness ad venture. In theory it sounded great but, it ended up being CiCi’s personal idea of hell.

In fact, it made Miss Newcombe’s Finishing School boot camp look like a walk in the park. She had so many mosquito bites she looked as if she had chicken pox. And yes, she’d used insect repellent. The damned things actually seemed to get off on the smell of the stuff.

And even worse, she had chigger bites in places too personal to mention. CiCi was tired, cranky and miserable, and that barely scratched the surface—no pun intended.

At the moment she was vainly trying to ignore a particularly annoying itch when a bloodcurdling scream made her blood pressure skyrocket. The noise was coming from over by the river. She prayed no one had drowned. Every staff member had a lifeguard certification, but accidents did happen. She barely made it ten feet before Jake raced by.

By the time CiCi reached the water’s edge, a crowd had gathered. Horseshoes, badminton and even food were forgotten in the mad dash to find out what was happening.

At first glance it appeared that everything was okay. Jake wasn’t pulling a dead body from the water and he wasn’t doing CPR on anyone. So what was the fuss all about?

“What happened?” CiCi couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Shirley Lee saw a snake in the water.” Jake’s lip quivered with a barely suppressed grin. He had his arm around a lanky teen with cornrows, who was sniffling.

“Were any of the kids in the river?”

“A couple of them, but everyone’s out now.” Jake patted the girl on the back.

“Should we give up swimming for the day?” CiCi asked Bobby Ray, the head lifeguard. He was on the swim team at Baylor University, so he obviously knew his way around a pool, but perhaps a river was a different story.

“No need. Most of the water snakes around here are harmless. Besides, we’ve made so much noise that I’m sure everything wild has taken cover. They’re more afraid of us than we are of them,” he said.

That was a matter of opinion, but CiCi decided to put on a brave front. “Okay, let’s make it optional. Anyone who doesn’t want to swim can play volleyball or something.” She waved her hand vaguely. That wasn’t very decisive but it would have to do.

“I bet I couldn’t pay you enough money to get in that water, could I?” Jake whispered close to her ear, sending goose bumps up and down her arms.

Call her a fool for letting her lust-o-meter run amok. She’d already had her share of heartbreak, thank you very much. All thoughts of Mr. Sexy had to be permanently banished. Fat chance!

“Uh, probably not,” she admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I’m not about to admit that in front of the kids. I don’t know what we’ll do to entertain them if they won’t go swimming.”

“I see your point.” Jake turned to the crowd of adolescents. “Last one in is a rotten egg!” he yelled, leading the charge into the shallow part of the water.

At times he seemed like a big kid. On other occasions, he was a philosopher and teen expert. She couldn’t figure what made Jake Culpepper tick, but she also couldn’t deny that she found him incredibly appealing.

The snake excitement died down, but the day and evening went on and on. Good God, CiCi felt as if she’d been banished to the wilderness for at least a century.

The calamine lotion had helped with the mosquito bites, but the chiggers were another story. Once they targeted you it was almost impossible to get rid of the itch—no matter how much lotion she applied.

“Are you having a good time?” Jake asked as he plopped down next to her at the river’s edge. Sugar Plum immediately abandoned her mistress and put her head in his lap.

Stupid, fickle dog.

“I guess that depends on what you consider fun.” CiCi covertly scratched an itchy spot.

“If you don’t watch out those things will get infected, and from there you can get impetigo.” He stretched out his long, tan legs. “I had impetigo when I was a kid. I couldn’t go swimming for half the summer.” Jake laughed. “That was probably one of my worst vacations ever.”

“I’ve never heard of impetigo.”

“I didn’t think so. You have very beautiful skin.” He ran a finger down her arm.

Although it was as hot as the tropics, his touch sent chills through her body.

“Um, thank you.” That was probably the most inane comment she’d ever made, but she’d been out of the dating scene for a
very
long time. And more than likely his flirting was nothing more than a reflex.

“So…are you enjoying your time at the camp?”

Jake paused, apparently considering his answer. “Yeah, I think I am.” He grinned sheepishly. “To tell the truth, I was really PO’d when Texas Bob sent me here. But as much as I hate to admit, I’m getting used to the kids. They take a lot of energy, don’t they?”

“They certainly do. I’m glad it isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. I was worried about working with you,” she acknowledged. “But that’s all changed. I really like you.”

 

A
S FAR AS
compliments went, this one wasn’t the most eloquent Jake had had. The significance of it, however, wasn’t lost on him.

“I like you, too.” To be totally honest, his feelings had moved closer to lust than like. Her lips were kissable, lush and soft, and that smooth olive skin was more tempting than he wanted to admit.

This shouldn’t be happening. There were so many “don’ts” in this scenario that he’d have to be an idiot to kiss her. First of all, she was Texas Bob’s daughter and that could be disastrous. Then they had about sixty nosy chaperones watching their every move, which in itself should be enough to tamp down any man’s libido.

But disregarding their potential audience, Jake pulled CiCi into his arms. A moment later their lips met. He wasn’t a novice at kissing; in fact, he’d had more than his share of experience. But kissing CiCi Hurst was an axis-altering, lightning-packed event. Their first kiss was nothing compared to this one.

His brain was telling him to breathe. His lips told him to keep kissing her. The peskiest voice of all was the doubt chiding him about the differences in their backgrounds.

But the truth was she wasn’t anything like he’d initially expected. She was funny, warm, caring and too sexy for words.
He looked forward to hearing her laugh and watching her work with the campers. So he’d better watch out or he’d fall for Daddy’s little princess and that would be a major-league blow to his career.

Jake was almost relieved when an adolescent squeal shocked them into pulling apart. Thanks to the twilight the kid probably hadn’t seen anything.

“Hey, Coach, we’ve got a pickup volleyball game over by the campfire. Come be on our team.” The request was made by Angel, his superstar, cheerleading kicker.

Fate had saved him from doing something incredibly stupid—like throwing CiCi Hurst to the ground and having his way with her.

“Sure,” Jake agreed before turning his attention back to CiCi. He touched her bottom lip. “You’re a big-time volleyball player. Do you want to make a friendly bet on the outcome?” He forced a grin that he didn’t quite feel.

“Depends on what the bet is.”

“If my team wins, I get another kiss,” Jake whispered.

“What if my side wins?”

He shrugged, wondering what alien being had hijacked his mouth. That sucker was trying to get him in trouble. “It’s your choice, as long as it involves kissing.”

When she nodded and added a wink, Jake suspected he’d been had but couldn’t see how she’d get out of it.

It was game point before Jake knew he’d truly been suckered. Angel was too short, Rondelle was too gangly, and Suarez was too hyper to even make it to the ball much less hit it back. That left Jake, and volleyball wasn’t even close to his best game.

CiCi couldn’t hide her gleeful grin as she spiked the winning point at his feet. His only consolation was that win, lose or draw, she’d agreed to a kiss. That made him a very lucky man.

At least that’s what he thought right up until Sugar Plum presented her head for a big, slobbery kiss. They hadn’t specified who would be doing the kissing.

CiCi Hurst was a wicked, wicked woman!

Chapter Fifteen

Had the camping trip really only lasted only two days? If so, that had to be the longest forty-eight hours in history.

While they were at the campsite the nurse had treated sunburn, insect bites and assorted bruises and contusions but kids were notoriously resilient. They didn’t realize they should be uncomfortable and irritable.

CiCi was miserable enough for everyone, and she was desperate for a shower. But before she could indulge herself, she had to keep an eye on the kids as they unloaded their stuff. She was sitting on a picnic table examining a particularly nasty spot in the crook of her elbow when Jake joined her.

“Remember what I told you about impetigo.”

She rolled her arm over for a better look. “Are you sure it’s not a spider bite?”

Maybe she should just got up and go to the nurse—or then again, perhaps not.

“Let me check it out.” He looked at her arm. “Nope, it’s impetigo. I’d bet the farm on it.” He delivered his diagnosis with a grin.

That smile should have a warning label. “Okay Dr. Culpepper, what do I do about it?”

“Antibiotic cream. Dwayne had impetigo so bad one time that he looked like a leper.” Jake snorted. “We made him stay far away from us all summer. It wouldn’t surprise me if
he stole my Porsche to get back at me for making fun of him back then.”

“How old
were
you?”

“Ten.”

“Ten? You think he even remembers?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jake’s explanation was cut short by the arrival of the camp secretary, a young brunette named Kirsten.

“Miss CiCi, your dad called about an hour ago. He wanted me to tell you that they’re on their way.”

“My parents are coming here?”

“That’s what they said.” Kirsten gave Jake a flirty wave.

“How long do I have?”

“My guess is an hour, give or take.” Kirsten jumped up on the table with Jake. “I’ll keep an eye on things out here. That should give you time for a shower.”

Jake also hadn’t had a shower in two days. He should look like a bum, but he didn’t, darn it.

CiCi glanced back and forth between Jake and Kirsten. Why hadn’t Daddy hired some aging baby boomers? “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Take your time,” Jake answered.

What was he really saying? CiCi realized she needed some major renovation, but did he have to be snooty about it? Or was she just being touchy? Probably the latter.

 

J
AKE WAS BUSY
trying to discourage Kirsten when he heard a car horn blaring “The Eyes of Texas.”

“Look at that!” the young woman squealed.

That
was the longest vintage Cadillac Jake had ever seen. It was candy-apple red with a hood ornament straight off a Texas longhorn. The driver was none other than Texas Bob, and the woman riding shotgun was undoubtedly Mrs. Texas Bob.

When Jake leapt off the table, Kirsten sashayed back to
the office. Sugar Plum lumbered over to the car and stuck her head in the passenger window.

“Son, I sure hope you ain’t been diddlin’ the staff,” Texas Bob said, climbing out of the Caddy. He huffed and puffed like the Texas version of
The Little Engine That Could.

Jake knew that Winston Hurst had a degree from Harvard, and usually he thought it was funny when his boss turned into a tobacco chawin’ redneck, but this time the good-old-boy act annoyed him.

“No, I’m not.” Jake deliberately didn’t add “sir” to the end of the sentence and stood as tall and straight as he could. Under normal circumstances, he didn’t use his size to intimidate, but right now it seemed appropriate. And much to his surprise, it worked.

“Don’t get your boxers in a bunch, son. I apologize. My wife tells me I’m bad about jumping to conclusions.”

“Winston, your mother taught you better manners than that.” Mrs. Texas Bob
tsked
at her husband before turning to Jake. “Hi, Jake. I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Marianne Hurst,” she said, extending her hand. “We met at a symphony fund-raiser.”

“Yes, ma’am, I haven’t forgotten.” Actually he had, but if there was ever a time for a white lie, this was it.

“Hi, Jake.” Mac waved at him while trying to keep Sugar Plum from giving her daughter a bath of doggie kisses. “Remember me?”

“Sure. How are you doing?” He hadn’t noticed CiCi’s sister and niece until they emerged from the backseat.

Mac lifted a finger to ask him to wait. “Molly!” she said. “Go run with Sugar Plum. And stay on the grass.”

Molly responded by doing a series of cartwheels across the lawn. Sugar Plum chased after her, obviously thrilled to have a new playmate.

“She just started gymnastics. We can’t seem to keep her still.”

Jake was impressed by the way Mac could multitask, conducting an intelligent conversation without taking her eyes off her daughter.

“Where’s CiCi?” Marianne asked.

“She’s taking a shower. We just got back from a two-day camping trip, so we’re a little ripe. Why don’t you go on inside where it’s cool? I’ll wander back to the kitchen and see if I can rustle up some drinks.”

“That’s very nice of you. Come on, Winston.” She grabbed her husband’s arm, steering him toward the lodge.

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Mac said as she made herself at home in one of the twig rockers to watch Molly play with the dog.

Jake had a vision of petite blonde Marianne Hurst dragging Texas Bob along by the ear. It was good to know that someone could get the best of the ultimate BS expert.

 

C
I
C
I HAD NEVER
taken such a quick shower. She didn’t want Daddy to hear about the shenanigans at the camp. She’d had enough failures, both professional and personal, to last a lifetime, and she certainly wasn’t anxious to add this one to the list.

She didn’t bother putting on makeup or drying her hair be fore she ran down the stairs of the main lodge. Too late. Mama and Daddy were having lemonade with Jake as if they were old friends.

Mama would die if she thought her daughter had the hots for another playboy athlete. CiCi would have to be permanently on guard so she didn’t give anything away.

“Hi, Mama. Hi, Daddy. I didn’t expect to see you guys.”

“We decided to drive up and see how you’re doing,” her
mother answered. “And did you lose something while you were out camping?”

CiCi poured herself a glass of lemonade. “Like what?”

“Like your manners. How about a hug?”

“Oops. Sorry. I’m a little frazzled.” She wrapped her arms around her mom.

“Have you gone to the nurse about that impetigo?”

If one more person asked her about her “oowie” she was going to scream. “No, but I will.”

It looked as if Jake was trying to keep from laughing. He probably thought the Hursts were all entertaining, but at least Daddy was the only family member who had a pair of horns affixed to the hood of his car.

“So,” CiCi said after finishing off half a glass of lemonade in one gulp. “How long are you staying?”

Mama gave her the dreaded raised eyebrow.

“A day, maybe two,” Daddy answered. “I had some business in San Antonio, so we thought we’d run up for a little visit. Aren’t you glad to see your folks?”

CiCi knew when to give in. “Of course I’m glad you’re here.” She gave her dad a squeeze. “I’m just exhausted from communing with Mother Nature. I’m afraid I’m not much of a pioneer. So, I’ll introduce you to the campers while Jake takes a shower. Then we can all have lunch. How about that?”

“Sounds good.” Texas Bob grinned. “Yep, that sounds mighty good. Let’s go round up Molly and Mac.”

“Molly and Mac are here?”

“Molly is off somewhere with Sugar Plum, but Mac’s on the front porch.” Marianne gave CiCi a wink. “When your sister heard we were coming, she hitched a ride. You know how nosy she can be.”

CiCi heard only a portion of what her mother was saying as she rushed out the door.

“Mac.” She had missed her sister like crazy even if she did
think Cole Benavides was a mistake. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” She pulled Mac into a hug.

“I didn’t want to give you time to make up some silly story. Enquiring minds want to know. We’re having a slumber party tonight.” Mac gave CiCi a saucy hip butt. “I want the straight skinny, all of it.”

Perhaps a heart-to-heart was exactly what CiCi needed, either that or a lobotomy. Jake’s kiss had been a scorcher, but did it mean anything to him? She still couldn’t get past the fact that he was a jock and a groupie magnet.

“That sounds perfect, but what about Molly?”

“She’s bunking with Mom and Dad in the guestroom. You’re going to have to share your bed with me—unless it’s already too crowded,” Mac said with a suggestive wink.

“I only wish.” Or did she? Could she take a chance on a man again and not get her heart broken? And when had she turned into such a chicken? That was easy—it happened when Jake Culpepper mistook her for a mutant fowl.

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