The Summer Place - By Pamela Hearon Page 0,8

of girls, giggling and hopping like rabbits.

He rolled his eyes. The first activity on Summer’s activity sheet for today. Welcoming Games. What in the hell were welcoming games?

He watched as the string of girls hopped into a circle, unable to pull his eyes away from Summer Delaney’s tanned and toned legs propelling her across the ground like a gazelle in white shorts.

Once the circle formed, the girls held hands and began swinging their arms in rhythm to the song they belted out. Rick recognized the tune as the same as “Mary Had a Little Lamb.”

“Sunny Daze the camp for me,” they sang in unison. “Camp for me. Camp for me. Sunny Daze the camp for me. The summer place to be.”

How did Summer have time to teach them a song? He hadn’t set foot in the boys’ barracks yet, and she already had the girls out playing games.

The song started again, but this time the circle moved in slow motion, increasing to a fast trot, faster and faster until the circle whirled as fast as the girls could move and still scream the tune at the top of their lungs. When it ended, they all collapsed in a giggly heap on the ground.

Summer lay back, bright red in the face, and the hand on her chest moved up and down to the rhythm of the body heaving under it.

The sight caught Rick unprepared. Suddenly, in his mind, she was under him, naked, tan legs circling his waist, laughing and heaving from the throes of the climax he’d just brought her to.

He reacted immediately to the image, his erection springing to attention like a marine at the first note of the national anthem.

“Hell-pee-roo.” He tried to dismiss the image from his mind as he sauntered toward the barracks. When he reached the door, he recognized the refrain of the song he’d been whistling—“Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave...”

His face grew hot. He rubbed the tattooed area over his heart and grumbled, “It’s gonna be one hell of a long month, Dunk.”

* * *

SUMMER WATCHED AS NEIL JENKINS, the boys’ assistant counselor, held the screen door of the dining hall open and the boys streamed through in single file. They were quiet. Too quiet, considering how the girls had raced in and jockeyed for seats, some of them switching places several times before finally settling down beside a new BFF.

Less than an hour and Rick already had the boys acting like soldiers. One or two would probably want to leave by tonight. She grunted her disapproval.

At precisely ten o’clock, Rick strode through the door. “Good morning!” His cheerful voice boomed through the hall.

Most of the girls gave an answering “Good morning,” but the boys remained quiet and those who spoke mumbled.

Rick’s hands came together in a loud clap, and everybody jumped, including Summer, who’d been looking around the room to keep from noticing his handsome features.

“Okay, everybody up.”

Kids and adults alike scrambled to obey. Summer rose reluctantly.

“Now, I’m going to say good morning again, and this time I want to hear your response. Ready?” He paused and looked around, making a brief eye connect with everyone in the room. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” The kids’ enthusiasm echoed through the mess hall.

“C’mon, you can do better than that! Good morning,” he said again, this time louder.

The kids shouted back, “Good morning!” Then they shouted it louder until they were screeching at the top of their lungs. The action broke the ice, and when they sat down, the boys were smiling and nudging one another along with the girls, red faces broken by bright smiles.

Rick laughed, a deep, masculine sound that vibrated into the pit of Summer’s stomach. She’d never heard him laugh. It was a pleasant sound, but it agitated her a bit nonetheless.

“Okay, let’s go over a few ground rules,” Rick said, and Summer’s inner voice said, Because Rick’s number-one rule is that you can never have too many rules.

“Welcome to Camp Sunny Daze. We want you to have a great time this month. ...”

But not too good because what we really want is for you to learn to follow the rules.

“But there are a few things we expect. Rule number one. We always use good manners. We respect one another and ourselves, and we show respect for one another and ourselves. As a way of showing respect, you will address the staff as Ms. and Mr.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. She and Tara had already introduced themselves to the girls without

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