Neil waited a minute and then made a “reowr” sound that perfectly mimicked a mad cat. “Marines, one. Fairy princess, zero.”
“Got to show her who’s boss,” Rick growled, frustrated he’d let the woman get to him. “She acts like she already owns the place, but Mommy and Daddy hired me to run this show. She was a last resort and probably whined her way onto the staff.”
Neil swept his hand through the air as if he could see headlines hanging there. “The Last Resort. Catchy title.”
Rick shook his head and chuckled. “I see Kenny’s making his rounds. Want a beer? I’ve got some cold ones in my fridge.”
“Now you’re talking.” Neil clapped his hands. “I’m pleased you remembered to bring the necessities.”
“Actually, you can thank Charlie. He’s the one who stocked them, saying I’d probably need them. I think he was right.” Rick paused, then grinned. “Of course, they’re nonalcoholic, but we can pretend.”
Neil threw a thumb over his shoulder in the direction the women had gone. “Sounds like something the fairy princess would say. She’s not rubbing off on you, is she?”
“Hardly,” Rick grunted as he tried to focus away from the image that phrase invoked.
* * *
“WOULD YOU LIKE SOME LEMONADE before you go back to the girls for the night?” Summer asked as she and Tara strolled the path to the bunkhouse. “I have some fresh-squeezed in my refrigerator, and it’s still pretty early.” Rick Warren had her so keyed up, sleep was going to be an impossibility for a while. She needed to walk or chat or drink heavily, which wasn’t an option—anything but go to bed with him on her mind.
“That sounds great.” Tara sounded relieved at the offer. “I’m a night owl, so I’m not at all sleepy.”
They eased into the dormitory and made a quick round to check on the girls, who all were sleeping soundly. They eased out just as quietly and made their way to Summer’s cabin.
In the vast darkness, away from the lights of any town, the Milky Way spewed boldly across the sky. The sight swept Summer back across the years to her first time at Camp Sunny Daze and her first sight of her home galaxy. She felt the same awe she’d experienced all those years ago and it warmed her heart. She was so happy to be back here. Even Rick Warren couldn’t change that.
The night was warm, not hot, but Tara and Neil had decided to run the air conditioners for the duration of the camp lest the night sounds keep the kids awake. Summer, however, chose to leave hers off. Tree frogs, bullfrogs, cicadas and an occasional heron’s call from the lake mixed in a pleasant cacophony while she slipped out of her costume and into a top and shorts. It was music to her ears.
“You squeeze your own lemonade?” Tara eyed the bits of lemon pulp floating in the glass Summer handed her a few minutes later. “I didn’t know anybody did that anymore with all the packaged stuff available.”
Summer broke an organic chocolate bar into pieces and set it on the couch between them. “I eat fresh and organic all I can. One of the degrees I worked on for a while was in nutrition.”
Tara squinted. “One of the degrees? How many did you work on?”
“Several.” No point rehashing all of her failed attempts now. They were behind her, and Summer intended to keep them there. “This chocolate is seventy percent cacao and organic, so it’s full of antioxidants and good for you. It’s perfect with a good pinot noir. ...” Her sigh completed the thought.
Tara eyed her carefully over the rim of her glass. “It’s sexual tension, you know.”
“Dark chocolate and pinot noir?”
“This thing between you and Rick. It’s classic sexual tension.”
“Oh, please. Pfft!” Summer tried to dismiss the subject by taking a long drink, hoping the cool liquid would cool her now-heated face.
“No, it’s true.” Tara pressed on, unmindful of or ignoring Summer’s discomfort with the subject. “Have you seen the way he looks at you when you’re not bickering? Well, I mean, you probably haven’t, since you’re always challenging him, but sometimes he looks at you like you just looked at that chocolate.”
Summer snorted as she became keenly aware she’d just closed her eyes in ecstasy at the sensation of the bittersweet chocolate melting on her tongue.
“He’s obviously a man who’s used to calling the shots, and he doesn’t know how to handle someone who questions his authority.”