She could barely stand him, and their vacation would be over in a few days.
He thought about returning home alone to his Houston bachelor pad, and suddenly the life he’d been so satisfied with appeared empty. Grant would miss Jami’s musical laughter, and her sparkling golden eyes that mirrored every emotion in her tender heart. He’d miss her soft voice and fiery temper, her unique combination of gentleness, spunk, and unpredictability. He sadly smiled to himself. He’d miss everything about Jami—even her mischievous boy, who was a heart-stealer as well.
Grant followed her down the mountain trail, shocked by the knowledge that a future without Jami Rhodes depressed him. Too bad Cupid didn’t really possess magical powers. He’d actually consider using magic on the copper-headed beauty who’d thrown his well-ordered life into chaos. Almost tripping over a root, he chided himself on losing all common sense.
How could he believe the Cupid charm was magic? That idea contained no more logic than believing Jami could grow to love him. Since she viewed him as the enemy, it wouldn’t help him if Frost Lake was afloat with magical Cupids. With fresh determination, Grant decided that at least he’d find a way to make her like him. Even if she couldn’t love him.
Chapter 12
Grant conjured up a folding campstool for each of them, which Jami gratefully accepted. Though not very big, the stool felt more comfortable than a rock. Wiggling, Toby collapsed his stool and tumbled with a giggle. Jami smiled with pride as he popped back up, soon mastering it.
“Ready to learn how to build a fire?” Grant’s gaze encompassed mother and son.
Jami shrugged, but Toby whooped in excitement. “Sure!”
“Help me gather firewood.” Using a branch, Grant brushed off a circle of dirt in a bald spot of the meadow close to their tents. “We’ll pile them here. Find dry pieces of wood–branches and twigs.”
“Okay.” Toby trotted toward the bushes.
“Be careful,” Jami admonished, thinking of snakes and spiders lurking where her child might grab.
“Yeah. We will.”
“He’ll be fine,” Grant assured her. She could tell he thought her over-protective, but refrained from stating it. In fact, the man had acted so darn nice since they had returned from the hike, she couldn’t help but be suspicious.
Toby stood at attention, clicked his sneakered heels together and saluted Grant. “Toby, Soldier of Zonar reporting for duty, Sir.”
“At ease, soldier.” Grant strode toward the woods, glancing back at Toby. “You’re in charge of twigs, sticks, and small chunks of wood for the kindling, and I will gather the larger wood.”
“Yes, Sir!” Toby hopped to Grant’s side.
Jami smothered her concern, watching the boy march after the man until they were both swallowed into the forest. She hoped they hurried. Evening shadows had lengthened and it would soon be dark. Trying to keep from worrying while the guys were scavenging firewood, she set up sleeping bags in the dome tent and the pup tent, then puttered around to keep busy.
When Toby and Grant returned, each with an armful of wood, she was sitting on her campstool applying insect repellent spray.
“Did you miss us?” Grant asked, shooting her a heart-stopping smile in the deepening twilight as he deposited his wood into a pile.
“You smell funny, Mom,” Toby announced as he dumped his wood into the pile.
She started to laugh, grabbing him. “You’re going to smell the same way.”
Toby’s wriggled nose as she handed him the bug spray. “Put this on, tiger.”
“Eww, yuk.” He tried to hand back the bug repellent. “No way.”
“Listen to your mother,” Grant ordered, to Jami’s surprise. “Or you’ll turn into dinner for mosquitoes.”
“I don’t wanna stink.”
“Would you rather itch all night?” Grant’s brow furrowed.
“Maybe.” Toby dragged his toe through the dirt, not looking up at the adults.
“You would not.” Jami took back the bug spray, popped the cap off and thoroughly spritzed her son, ignoring his objecting squeals. “There.”
“Spray Grant, too, Mom,” Toby wailed. “It’s only fair.”
Jami turned to Grant and, reading the challenge in his gaze, she took aim. He raised an arm to protect his face as she sprayed him from head to foot, before circling him and attacking his back as well. If she and Toby were going to smell to high heavens, so was Mr. Camp-out.
“Fair is fair.” Jami smugly recapped the bug spray container as Grant wrinkled his nose, much like her son had done. “Now we all can repel the mosquitoes.”
“We ought to repel any creature with a sense of smell,” Grant countered, sniffing his arm with distaste.