Unexpected Wedding (8 page)

“I see it. There’s not much light, but I’ll check for fire ant mounds.”

“Good idea.”

“If I’d remembered about the fireworks, I would have brought something to sit on,” she said and dropped her things.

“Sit on my shirt,” he said and tossed it her way.

She tossed it back. “I’m not sitting on your white shirt. I’ll be fine.”

Gia patted the ground beside her. “Can you climb down from that thing and sit here?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

If she’d have blinked, she would have missed the transfer. One second he’d locked his brakes and the next he was beside her on the grass. In one fluid movement he’d leaned forward, stuck his arm out, planted his fist on the ground, and gracefully slipped out of the chair.

“That was fast,” she said.

“Years of practice.” He straightened his legs and used the bear as a pillow as he stretched out to watch the sky. “Much better. And don’t be too impressed with the dismount. Gravity helps. Getting back in is the hard part.”

She leaned back against her share of the stuffed animal. “I was going to wait until I could hear your whole presentation to learn about your injury, but now I’m curious. What happened to you, anyway? Was it football?”

“That would be a good, tragic tale laced with glamor and its own highlight reel, but no, it wasn’t football.”

“Car accident?”

He swiped a lock of dark hair away from his forehead and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Are you going to let me tell my own story?”

“Yes, and I wish you’d get on with it before the show starts.”

“All right. Here comes the short version.”

“Why the short version?”

“Because it’s your turn to talk. I don’t know anything about you.”

Gia looked away. Where was she going to start if she ever had to truly tell him about herself? She was a terror as a child, a total mess as a teen, and a repeated failure as a college student. Some days it was hard to remember she’d really pulled herself together. She cleared her throat and turned toward him. “We’ll get to my mistake-filled existence later. Please tell me more. How’d you end up in that chair, what do you do with computers and what do you do for fun?”

With a curious tilt of his head, he pinned her with a soft but intense gaze. She had to look away again. His heavy sigh seemed to mark his temporary retreat from his own questions.

“I was at a party I shouldn’t have been at, and on a balcony I shouldn’t have been on because it was too crowded and collapsed. The fall broke my spine. Or should I say my spine broke my fall? I have a computer consulting business and mostly work from home. If not for viruses and lost files, I’d be out of work. I do lots of things for fun, but I really enjoy music ministry so I play the bass guitar in my church’s worship band.”

A zillion questions crossed her mind. Rocky kept staring at her as if waiting for her to tick them off. As soon as she opened her mouth he raised his hand.

“Don’t even think about it. I’m not telling you anything else. It’s your turn to pass on some information. What are you going to do for work when camp ends? What do you do for fun? Do you, by chance, play bass in a worship band?”

She shifted on the ground to avoid pieces of dried grass that were poking and tickling her calves. These were not hard questions. Rocky was so easy to talk to. Why was she so reluctant?

She smiled. “No bass guitar. I do like to sing, but it’s best if no one hears me. I would love to go to grad school full time in the fall but it doesn’t seem to be working out that way. As for fun, well...”

A sudden, earth-shaking boom and a spray of shimmering color stopped her words.
Saved by pyrotechnics.

Rocky laced his fingers behind his head. “You’re not off the hook.”

“Shh. Can’t talk now. Fireworks.”

The crackling blast of accompanying music blared through the poor-quality speakers.
Saved by John Philip Sousa and pulsing rock and roll from the seventies.

They looked at each other and laughed as they tried to sing along and anticipate what great American classic would come up next. Gia relaxed in their easy companionship, but she’d probably never tell him this was the most real fun she’d had in years.

Back on the sidewalk, as the dispersing crowd ambled past them, Gia paused to remove her sandals. “Oh man, that feels better.”

“You OK?”

“Yeah, fine. I get so tired of wearing those bulky cross-trainers at camp I thought I’d wear these. Big mistake. I have old blisters that have new blisters of their own.”

“You can’t walk all the way to the car barefoot. There’s trash everywhere.”

“I’ll risk it. I can’t put those things back on.”

Rocky patted his lap. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”

Gia stepped back. “Uh... No.”

“Don’t look so disgusted. I’m not trying to be a perv or anything.”

“Oh, please, it’s not that. It’s just... That’s your personal space. And what about the weight? We’ve got every pocket on that chair stuffed full. By the way, I’m adding my sandals. Then there’s this bear. There’s not room in that thing for all three of us.”

And that’s the last complete thought she had before the man quite literally swept her off her feet.

She landed in his lap with the bear on top of her.

She screamed.

“Don’t scream. Someone might think I’m up to something.”

“Sorry. It was a reflex scream.”

“Once in a while, Gia, you’re going to have to stop asking questions and listen to me. Sometimes I know what I’m doing.” He wrestled with the bear. “Scoot this way a little. You can put your arm around the back of the chair. Keep your legs over here. Almost like sitting on Santa’s lap at the mall. Or not.”

She’d have to agree with him there. Santa never smelled good like something manly/woodsy/spicy.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” he instructed. “I can’t see much. Let me know about any big holes and don’t let me mow someone down. Hold on to the bear.”

She started to laugh and screamed again as they took off.

“Don’t scream. Especially in my ear.”

“Sorry.”

Wind caressed her bare toes and caught in her hair as he peeled away from the crowd and picked up speed while coasting down a side street.

“Slow down,” she said through more laughter. “There’s a stop sign coming.”

“Are you implying I should stop and look both ways?”

“No, I’m implying you should not crash us into the stop sign.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t think I can stop.”

“What?”

“Kidding. But hold on. We’re gonna roll through that crosswalk.”

“No! There could be a car coming.”

“That street’s closed so all the traffic will exit down the main drag.”

“Are you sure?”

Her question was lost in the bubble of excitement that rose in her chest and took her breath. She dropped her arm around his neck and held on tighter.

They reached the edge of the intersection. He didn’t slow down, but hit the ramp perfectly and they rolled into the street.

The bear bounced out.

“Man overboard,” Gia cried.

“Hang on,” he said and made some sort of rapid circling move which enabled her to reach out and grab it as they came around again.

“Stop,” she said as they popped up on the other side. “I need to catch my breath.”

“I’m doing all the work.”

“I know, but I’m laughing too hard to breathe.”

He came to a stop amidst the bright light of a camera flash. Funny, Gia felt as if they’d been alone.

“How ya doin’?” a young man asked as he approached. “Can I take your picture?”

Rocky slipped a protective arm around her waist. “I believe you just did,” he said coolly as if annoyed by the intrusion.

“Oh no. I’ve been shooting the big exit.” He handed them a card. “I work for the festival. I’m photographing for the paper, next year’s brochure and website, you know, human interest stuff. You two look like you’re having a good time. You got the bear, the festival t-shirts. You’re exactly what I need.”

The last thing Gia wanted was an unflattering picture of herself splattered in some podunk community newspaper. “I don’t think so, Rocky.”

“C’mon,” the guy insisted. “I’m legit. I’ll let you get ready for the shot, and I’ll send you one.” He passed them a small notepad and pencil. “Please provide your names and an e-mail address.”

Rocky grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Let’s do it. We need to commemorate the night I won the bear and then saved it from certain death in the intersection.”

“Sure. Whatever.” She scribbled her information and passed it to Rocky. “You better be photogenic. I don’t want to show up in the blueberry-catfish news and you have your eyes closed.”

“Back atcha. Say cheese.”

Gia re-focused after the series of flashes and caught Rocky’s gaze as the photographer turned his attention to someone else. “Now we wait.”

“What are we waiting for?”

“I mean the newspaper. Who knows what that weird little stalker might print?”

“Makes no difference what he prints. No one’s going to be looking at me.”

There he went again, spearing her with the same powerful look that previously made her feel like she had to turn away.

This time she couldn’t.

His voice was soft in the small space between them in the chair. “Gia, you must know how beautiful you are. And if you don’t, I’m sorry, because that means whether you’ve dated one guy or a hundred guys, they didn’t do right by you. The smart ones would have made sure you knew.”

She’d been told. Never like that. Never that she believed. Never for the right reasons.

She wanted to say thank you, but raw emotion kept the words balled up inside.

It seemed easier to simply kiss him.

When she did, the intensity she’d danced around all day was present in full force.

She felt it all the way to the ends of her bare, blistered toes.

5

Rebekah hopped. She actually hopped like an excited bunny. “What do you mean you kissed him?”

As Gia suspected, giving Rebekah the details of her date was a mistake, even though she’d been dying to discuss it and get another woman’s opinion on her kissing assault.

She pulled her ponytail tight and left the bathroom. “I mean I kissed him.”

“Do you mean he kissed you and you kissed him back? Like at the end of the date?”

“No,” Gia said as they trudged up the hill. “I started it. It was all me.”

“Nice. I think. Why do you sound concerned? Did he back away in horror or something?”

“No, I think he liked it, but I’m not real proud of myself. It’s not like he had a choice. I was sitting on his lap and all of a sudden, I was planting one on him. It happened so fast I don’t know if he was shocked but happy, or appalled and being polite.”

“Why were you sitting on his lap? You hardly know the man.”

“It’s surprisingly not as inappropriate as it sounds. That’s part of my problem. Other than shove me off his lap, he didn’t have any options.” Gia hung a left on the trail toward the camp’s front gate. “It all seemed so natural. He looked so cute with that dark hair curling around his ears. He smelled good—despite how hot and sticky it was. And he said the sweetest thing...”

“All right. I can see what’s happening here.” Rebekah stopped and put her foot up on a stump to re-tie her shoe. “You like this guy. You had a great time. And let’s be real, Gia. He’s a red-blooded American male. I’m ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent sure he enjoyed the kiss and doesn’t care how it started. Don’t worry about it. You can let him start things next time.”

“He’s Greek, by the way.”

“As in born in Greece?”

“No, but his grandparents were. It’s one of the things we talked about last night. My grandparents came from Italy, his from Greece. There’s a strong cultural heritage in both our families.”

“Well, there you go,” Rebekah said and resumed her trek up the hill. “It’s a Mediterranean-American love match made in Heaven. That and the first date smooch-fest at the Blueberry-Catfish Festival will make for a nice steamy love story to tell your grandchildren.”

Two counselors passed them on the path. “I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. Don’t say another word. No one needs to know about me and Rocky or that kiss.”

“Of course not. What do you take me for? We’ll talk later in private.”

They reached the top of the hill and stepped into the bustling preparation for the arrival of new campers. While the gate remained closed for another twenty minutes, excited, fresh-faced kids were already forming lines, anxious to enter.

One group of staff members stood ready to accept and tag camp luggage and hoist it onto a trailer for delivery to the appropriate cabins. Counselor-manned tables lined the entry, each with giant letters taped on the front to guide parents to the appropriate list for check-in. Everyone else attended to their own assignments, all swarming with excitement and wearing bright, welcoming smiles.

“I’m going to pop inside the office and make sure we don’t have any last minute messages about our girls this week,” Gia said. “You understand our job today, right?”

“I do. I’ll walk on over to the gate with the others and see if I can get something started.”

“Calm down, rook. Don’t give it all away in the first five minutes. There’s a three-hour window for check-in.”

Gia slipped into the air conditioned office and took her time getting to the staff boxes. As much as she loved opening day, the week was going to be a hot one and this was her last chance until lights out to get out of the heat. She took a bottle of water from the cooler and stepped to the window. She pulled the curtain aside. That silly rookie was already trying to get the waiting campers to participate in “the wave.”

“Pace yourself, rookie.”

“What’s that?”

“Hey, Sam. I’m talking to myself. My newbie’s out there making us all look bad. We have greeter duty today and she’s already got the crowd riled up.”

Sam stuck his hand deep into a box and pulled out a crumpled note. “Yeah, we’ll see how she’s doing after a couple hours out there.”

“I don’t know,” she said and dropped the curtain. “This one’s a lot like the Energizer Bunny.” She started toward the door. “I better get out there and stop her.”