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Authors: Cate Cameron

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BOOK: Just a Summer Fling
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“Just watch? No. You can still be useful. Go get the saddles for Sunny and Rocky.”

As soon as Kevin headed off, Josh regretted being so cantankerous. Not for Kevin’s sake, but for his own; by making Kevin run errands, Josh had stranded himself with the movie stars. But damn it, he was an adult, and he wasn’t shy. Not usually. “You guys care who takes which horse?”

“Can I ride Rocky?” Ashley asked. Josh realized that they were the first words she’d spoken since she arrived, and the sound of her voice affected him more than he would have liked.

“Ooh, good!” Charlotte said. “I get the pretty one.”

“Rocky’s pretty,” Ashley protested. “Look at those beautiful eyes!”

“Look at those enormous ears,” Charlotte retorted.

“All the better to hear me with! I bet he’s going to be super obedient.”

“They’re both super obedient,” Josh interjected. It was time to get them all back to business. “They’re both well-trained and sensitive and submissive to humans. So if you ask them to do something, and they don’t do it? You didn’t ask them right.” He wasn’t the sort of person who liked giving speeches, but if these two had come to him to learn, he’d do his best to tell them what he knew. “I don’t know shit about English riding,” he said. Possibly not the best place to start, not if he wanted to inspire confidence. But it was too late to change, so he charged on anyway. “But from
what I’ve seen, it’s mostly about forward movement. Racing around a track, going over jumps, whatever. That’s why the stirrups are so short—so it’s easy for you to go up and forward, and just trust that your horse is going to go up and forward, too.” They were both listening to him, at least, although he had no idea whether they thought he was making any sense. “Western riding is different. More like dressage, maybe . . . but I don’t know shit about dressage, either, so I can’t say for sure. But Western stirrups are longer, so you’re more balanced in the saddle. Your horse should be able to go in any direction—front, side, diagonally, back—and you need to be able to go with him. Okay?”

They both nodded, and then Kevin was back, carrying a saddle and Navajo blanket on each hip, with the bridles trailing over his shoulders. It wasn’t exactly a dignified look and Josh let himself enjoy it for a moment. He finally stepped in when he realized Kevin was about to drop at least one piece of valuable tack onto the gritty, rocky ground.

Josh rescued the closest saddle from Kevin’s precarious grip and tried not to take it as a punishment from above when he realized that it was the one he used on Rocky. It had been a fifty-fifty chance, after all. Just his bad luck that he got stuck with the horse Ashley wanted to ride.

“Can I do it?” she asked hesitantly, holding her hands out, offering to take the saddle from him. “I want to learn as much as I can. I want to feel authentic. My character would have been saddling her own horse, for sure.”

“Knock yourself out,” he said, and he let go of the saddle. He realized as his fingers were just done releasing it that he’d made a mistake. All summer he’d been trying not to touch her; he didn’t want one more detail to obsess over, and he knew that the feel of her skin against his could keep his stupid brain busy for days. So he let go of things before she could take them from his hands. It was fine if he was handing her
a drink or giving her a set of keys, but quite a different matter when he was dropping a bulky forty-pound saddle on her.

He tried to fix his mistake, grabbing wildly at the falling leather. She’d seen what was happening and shifted forward, twisting a little. He grabbed the saddle, but only after firmly brushing the back of his hand against the front of her warm, soft breast.

He stared at her and she stared back. It should have been nothing. The contact had clearly been innocent, they were both adults, neither one of them was anything close to virginal . . . it wasn’t a big deal. Except that it was. Because he wanted to drop the damn saddle into the dirt, and he wanted to grab her and touch her and kiss her and probably throw her over his shoulder and carry her somewhere that he could get rid of that stupid baggy shirt she was wearing, somewhere he could slide her jeans off her perfectly curved hips . . .

“Sorry,” she gasped.

His mind was blank. He couldn’t imagine what she was apologizing for.

“I almost dropped it,” she said.

“It wasn’t your fault.” And she wasn’t staring at him because she was sharing his arousal. She was just worried that she’d pissed off the grumpy local who had agreed to give her something she really wanted.

“I’ll be more careful,” she promised.

And he would be, too. This time he grabbed the saddle by the horn, extending it out in a way that made him worry his wrist might snap in two from the strain but that would definitely keep his hands the hell away from her body. “Try again,” he muttered.

She took the saddle and sagged under its weight, and he tried not to notice. He certainly wasn’t going to help her with it; if she wanted authenticity, there it was.

He stepped back and tried to collect himself, then remembered his bottle of beer, resting in the shade of one of the fence posts, and gratefully scooped it up for a long swallow. He just needed to calm down, and he’d be fine.

But he knew his brain was going to be reminding him of the feel of her breast against his hand for a long, long time.

Nine

“I CAN’T BELIEVE
this place doesn’t have a hot tub,” Charlotte groused as she limped toward the kitchen table. “I need a long soak.”

Ashley smiled sympathetically as she filled a mug with coffee for her friend. “And we signed up for more torture on Friday. Our legs are just going to be getting back to normal, and we’re going to jump back on and do it all again.”

Charlotte took a careful sip from her mug, then squinted in Ashley’s direction. They’d both just woken up, but, as usual, Charlotte’s brain was working faster than Ashley’s. “You seemed to have fun, though. Seemed like it was a good time.”

“It was hard work,” Ashley retorted. She didn’t think she was ready to talk about the rest of it. Not yet. The peace that seemed to have sprouted between her and Josh was still too fragile to withstand full daylight, or the withering heat of Charlotte’s examination. Better to keep it quiet and safe, somewhere she could protect it. Obsess over it. “But Josh is
a good teacher. And Kevin was a lot of fun. You and him . . . you’re thinking about doing something?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Thinking about it. He’s a good guy, for sure. And cute. He hasn’t got that whole brooding thing that your guy’s working, but—”

“He’s not
my guy
!”

Charlotte smiled into her mug. “So it’d be okay if I made the trade? ’Cause Kevin’s fun and all, but Josh . . . there’s just something about Josh.” She didn’t say anything more, just looked over, saw the strained expression on Ashley’s face, and started laughing. “Relax, Ash, I’m joking. I’m just looking for fun, not a big, emotional . . . whatever. Mister Grumpypants is all yours.”

“No, he’s not,” Ashley said. There was no point denying the truth. “And he’s made it completely clear that he doesn’t want to be mine. He doesn’t even want to be near me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Charlotte said. “If you say so.”

Ashley felt like a teenager, and she knew she should let it go, but she couldn’t. “Why do you say it like that? Do you think . . . Did you see . . . I mean, you sound like you think he
does
want to be near me. Do you have a reason for thinking that?”

“Woman’s intuition.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup. Take it or leave it.”

“Well, if you haven’t got any actual proof—” Ashley started, but she broke off when she saw Josh’s familiar pickup appear through the opening in the trees. He’d said they’d be over to do some more work on the place that morning, but somehow she’d expected them a little later. For the second day in a row she had to resist the temptation to run inside and put on a little makeup.

“We should go shopping this morning,” Charlotte said quickly and quietly. “We can get some good stuff and make them lunch. To thank them for the riding lesson.”

Ashley cringed, and Charlotte saw her do it. “What? You don’t want to cook for your man?”

“After the surprise dinner? I really don’t think he’d want to eat with me.” And then it was time for the hard part. “And he’s right not to. I’ve been treating him like a piece of meat instead of a real person.”

“Why on earth have you been so stupid?” Charlotte’s voice was louder than it should have been considering how close the men were.

Ashley made a shushing gesture with her hands before whispering, “I’m an idiot. That’s why.”

“But, you’re
not
an idiot.” Charlotte frowned thoughtfully. “Not usually. Now you two are a mess, and it’s ninety percent your fault. Any other stupid things I should know about?”

“Nothing big. I think I’ve got myself more or less under control, at least for the moment.”

“I admire your discipline.” Charlotte smiled at her. “You’ve never just asked a guy out, have you? You’ve been a movie star your entire dating life. You don’t really know how normal human beings relate to each other.”

“I’m not a Martian.”

“Might as well be, from the sound of things.” Charlotte leaned forward a little. “Want to see something neat?”

“Probably not—”

But Charlotte was already on her feet. “Kevin!” she called. “Josh? We’re going into town to get groceries this morning, and we were hoping you’d let us make you lunch. Would that be okay?”

There was barely a moment’s hesitation before Kevin called back, “Sounds great! Thanks!”

Charlotte sank back into her chair and looked at Ashley triumphantly. “Huh. Simple communication between Earthlings. Not that difficult, really.”

“You only got Kevin to agree,” Ashley protested. “Kevin’s easy. It’s Josh who’s the problem.”

“Josh isn’t a problem,” Charlotte said mysteriously. “He’s a solution.” And then she sprang back to her feet and said, “We should get cleaned up and go shopping.” There was a teasing gleam in her eye when she added, “I don’t suppose you happen to know where we could hire a chef and a server at short notice?”

*   *   *

JOSH
Sullivan’s life usually made sense. He usually felt like there was a rhythm to things, a pattern. It was how he liked it. But that all went to hell every time he ran into Ashley Carlsen.

He felt like a fraud, sitting there on the deck. Kevin was laughing and chatting, chugging his lemonade like he didn’t know it had been homemade by a woman who was used to sipping champagne on yachts and jetting all over the world for her vacations. A woman whose annual income was probably more than Josh and Kevin would make, combined, over their whole lives. But Kevin was letting the stars serve him like it was totally natural, like it made sense for them to be asking him whether he wanted extra pesto on his grilled chicken sandwich.

It was a game. A charade. Like kids making a big deal out of serving their mom breakfast on Mother’s Day: it was only fun because everything was reversed every other day of the damn year. Ashley and Charlotte were enjoying the novelty of their experiment, but this wasn’t something they were interested in making a habit of.

And it wasn’t something Josh
wanted
to be a habit. Not with Ashley, but not with anyone else, either. He didn’t expect women to serve him, and didn’t even want it, not really. He mostly just didn’t want to be part of Ashley’s experiment. Didn’t want to be a damn novelty.

But Kevin was beaming like a man who’d just won the lottery, so Josh ate his sandwich and stabbed at his salad
and kept his mouth shut when he wasn’t putting food in it. Let Kevin have his adventure. Maybe things would turn out better for him than they had for Josh.

Unfortunately, Charlotte didn’t seem interested in leaving Josh to his meal. “So, have you two worked together for long?” she asked. It was a question Kevin would have been happy to answer, but Charlotte was looking right at Josh.

“Off and on,” he said. “For a while.” Well, maybe that was a bit more curt than he should be to someone who’d just made him a really good sandwich. “About five years, I guess?” He looked at Kevin for confirmation.

“Almost six,” Kevin said. “But like he said, not full-time. When there’s work, I work. With Josh, or a couple other places. Busy in the summer, slow in the winter.” He shrugged. It was the reality of living in an area with a lot of seasonal visitors. When the cottages were full, business was booming. When the summer people went home, things slowed right down.

“So what do you do all winter when it’s slow?” Charlotte asked, her voice just slow and lazy enough for the invitation to be felt.

Kevin grinned at her. “We find ways to keep warm,” he promised.

Josh turned away, looking toward the lake and forcing himself to stay seated. He couldn’t leave without messing things up for Kevin, and that meant he had to sit there and listen to the two of them as they started flirting. He realized that Ashley was just as quiet as he was but he didn’t dare to look over and see what she was doing.

“How about in the summer?” Charlotte asked. “Do you give all that up in the warm months? Too busy to have any fun?”

“Oh, we still manage to find time for a little fun,” Kevin said.

“Like what? If someone was visiting from out of town and you decided to show them a good time, what would that look like?”

Josh hadn’t realized he was going to stand up until he was already on his feet. “I’m going to get measurements on those screens that need replacing,” he said to Kevin. “It’s a one-man job, so if you want to finish up your lunch, that’s fine. We should probably hold off on staining the railings until the place is empty, though—we can do it on a warm day in the fall.” He should get the job done and get the hell out of there. A couple hours that afternoon, a couple hours on Friday with the horses, and that was it. He’d have done his duty to his cousin, done his time with the movie stars.

But Kevin seemed to have different ideas. “I was hoping you’d help me out with this,” he said with a smile. “It kind of sounded like a challenge, didn’t it? Showing them a good time? Sounded like she’s not sure we can manage it.”

Josh was out of patience. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he said. “If you want to take the afternoon off, go for it. But I’ve got some work to do.” He nodded as politely as he could while refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table, then headed for the truck to get his clipboard and tape measure.

He didn’t realize he was being followed until he grabbed his tools, turned around, and almost ran into Ashley. “Sorry,” he said quickly.

“No, I’m sorry.” She looked miserable.

“Wait. For what?”

“For making you uncomfortable. For all the stupid stuff I’ve done. You know. For making it so you can’t even sit there and eat lunch with us.”

“I ate lunch,” he protested.

“Yeah,” she conceded. “I guess you did. But you sure didn’t enjoy yourself. And that’s because I’ve been an idiot, and I’m really sorry about that.”

Damn it, he did not want to have this conversation, especially not dead sober. “The world doesn’t revolve around you,” he said. He knew the words might sound harsh, but
he hoped his tone made it clear that they weren’t meant that way.

And when she glanced up at him she seemed curious rather than insulted. “What do you mean?”

“There’s lots of reasons I don’t like hanging out with summer people,” he said. “You being an idiot is only one of them.” She looked so confused, and so sweet, that he found himself giving a little more away than he really wanted to. “And me reacting to the stuff you’ve done? It’s not just about you. Not you as a person. I just . . . I don’t get involved with summer people. That’s all.”

She stared at him. “What, like we’re not good enough for you?”

“It’s not a question of good or bad. Just not what I’m looking for.”

“Oh,” she said. It was pretty clear that she was acknowledging that she’d heard the words rather than that she’d understood them.

But it wasn’t Josh’s job to spell everything out for her. “So I’m going to get those measurements done,” he said, hoping she’d take the hint.

She nodded, then glanced back toward the cottage. The lunch table was on the other side of the building, facing the lake, so neither of them could see what Kevin and Charlotte were up to. “Your cousin doesn’t share your preferences,” she said carefully.

“No, I guess not.”

“I’m going to feel like a third wheel.”

This shouldn’t be his problem. It wasn’t his job to entertain one movie star in order to allow a different movie star to seduce a local in peace, not even if that local was his cousin.

But Ashley wasn’t saying it like it was his problem. That was the part that got to him. She was just saying it. She was sharing a piece of herself with him, however small that piece
was. Even movie stars felt like third wheels sometimes. Even Ashley Carlsen sometimes felt out of place.

“You could write down the measurements for me,” he suggested. It was strange to feel as if he was doing her a favor by turning her into his assistant. “I’d do the measuring, you’d write it down. It’d save me a bit of time.” And mean he’d get the hell away from her that much faster. That was the part he should focus on. He wasn’t being soft, he was being efficient. Wasn’t giving in to temptation, just taking a long view to avoiding it.

“Sure,” she agreed. “Happy to help!”

So she took the pencil and clipboard from him and they worked their way around the cottage, assessing the screens and measuring those that needed replacing. They didn’t talk about a single thing that wasn’t screen-related, and it was actually kind of relaxing. There was a moment of embarrassed tension when they reached the lake side of the cottage and found the eating area abandoned, but a whoop from the lake made it clear that the other two had gone for a swim, not for more intimate pursuits.

BOOK: Just a Summer Fling
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