Tying Up Loose Ends

Chapter 39

The girls eventually let me sleep, but I woke up at the usual time. I skipped my run and spent a couple of hours at my drafting table instead. I still needed to review all the drawings and organize everything before my meeting. When I finished as much as I could do on my own, I showered, shaved, and dressed in slacks and a polo. The weather was still miserable, hot and humid, but Granville wasn’t the T-shirt-and-shorts type.

Christy and Brooke were lounging by the pool when I emerged from the bungalow. Wren had left for the main camp already, but Trip was working in the clubhouse at the computer.

He stood. “Anything I can help with?”

“Moral support. You working here today?”

“Yeah. I need to catch up.”

I nodded and started to roll up drawings. They wouldn’t all fit in my carrying tube, so I rolled the extras and used some of Wren’s kitchen string to tie a makeshift sling.

“Well,” I said at last, “I’m off.”

“Good luck,” Trip said. “Any idea when you’ll be back?”

“No clue. Mid-afternoon?”

He nodded. “I’ll be here. The girls too. We’ll help with the paperwork.”

“Thanks.”

He glanced through the windows, and his eyes lingered on the pair by the pool. They were sitting up and chatting. Christy wore her aviator’s sunglasses and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin was a rich, even tan, and she glistened with a light coating of oil.

Brooke sported hot pink Oakley sunglasses, which made her look like a surfer more than an engineer, although they fit her style and matched her headband. She had a decent tan—her skin was like mine, only with more freckles—but she was several shades lighter than Christy. At least her bikini lines had started to disappear.

I sensed Trip’s question before he asked it.

“I talked to them last night,” I said. “Brooke definitely wants to try swinging.”

“Awesome. Anything special she likes? Doesn’t like?”

“The usual.” I shrugged and decided not to tell him that she liked anal. Wren liked it too, but only with him, and part of me wanted to keep Brooke’s ass to myself. I was being silly and selfish, but I couldn’t change how I felt. Besides, it didn’t matter anyway. It was her decision, not mine.

I snorted, at myself as much as anything.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just thinking about Granville.”

“Then you’d better get going.”

“Yep. See you when I get back.”

* * *

Granville and I worked at the long dining room table instead of the little one in the parlor. Beatrice kept us supplied with cold drinks. I’d never told her that I didn’t like tea, but she’d known since the second meeting. She brought me lemonade instead.

“Fresh squeezed,” she said. “Like you like.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thank you. As always.”

“M’yessir.”

“Bea here’s very fond of you, my boy,” Granville said. “She always remembers to buy lemons when you’re coming.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. He treated her like a well-trained child and was proud when she remembered things, even ones as simple as this. No doubt he thought it was because of his influence. If he’d been born in the nineteenth century instead of the twentieth, he’d have bragged about how well he treated his slaves, and how much they loved him.

You don’t get credit for being nice to them, I thought acidly. They’re people! You’re supposed to be nice to them. You aren’t supposed to own them.

And slaves don’t love you, I sneered. You hold the power of life and death over them. They’ll tell you whatever they think you want to hear.

I took a deep breath and tried to find an island of inner peace. I’d had an overdose of Granville lately, and I wasn’t dealing with it very well. I probably could have lived with his prejudices, if only he’d kept them to himself. But he was a clueless braggart instead. He honestly thought he was praising Beatrice, encouraging her, but his low expectations were just another form of racism.

Unfortunately, he was a product of his upbringing more than anything, although white southern culture made it possible. Too many people romanticized the Old South and ignored the uglier parts of its history—our history.

Slavery was a terrible thing that never should have happened. Period. End of discussion.

The south bore most of the guilt, but we weren’t the only ones. Our pre-war economy couldn’t have existed without northern slave traders, merchants, and mill owners. So the north romanticized their past as much as we did, although they at least had been on the right side of history.

The south hadn’t been—still wasn’t—and our myths couldn’t rewrite history. The Confederacy hadn’t been genteel plantation owners and “southern patriots.” Oh, no. The not-so-noble Confederacy had fought for a system that allowed them to own other human beings.

But I digress, big time.

Granville didn’t notice my frustration with him and the culture he represented. He was too preoccupied, bent over my drawings like Narcissus at his pool. He only saw his own greatness. Fortunately, his “greatness” didn’t have any problems, so he signed and sealed everything.

Beatrice timed it perfectly and appeared with lunch. I was ready to leave, but she’d gone to the trouble of making fried chicken, so I thanked her and enjoyed it. And, of course, I listened to Granville’s story about his first big job. The world revolved around him, after all.

“How’d it go?” Trip asked when I eventually returned to camp.

“Don’t ask,” I snapped. Maybe I hadn’t calmed down as much as I’d thought. “Sorry,” I said immediately. “Granville.”

“Uh-oh. What happened? Did he—?”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Things went well. He signed everything.”

“Thank God. I thought— Well, it doesn’t matter. Why’re you so upset?”

“Long story,” I said. “Just… the way he is. And the way he treats people.”

“Who? You?”

“No,” I scoffed. “I’m white. And male.”

“Then… what’s the problem?”

“Nothing. As long as you’re white and male.”

“Which you are,” Trip said slowly.

I pursed my lips and thought of several snarky replies, although I rejected them just as quickly. Trip wasn’t the problem.

“Listen, I get it,” he said. “Granville’s a pain. And maybe even a racist—”

“No ‘maybe’ about it.”

“Fine,” Trip agreed patiently. He was humoring me. “He’s a racist. So? The world’s full of ’em. We happen to need this one.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.” I took a deep breath and tried to be objective. “He has good qualities, too,” I said. “I mean, he’s been super-helpful, not only with the permits, but with the overall design as well. I couldn’t’ve done it without him.”

“Then focus on that,” Trip said.

“And ignore the rest?” I scoffed. “Whitewash it?”

“Whatever you wanna call it. We need him. I can probably find another architect—”

“No. Granville’s the best choice. He’s buddies with half the town, including the director of Building and Zoning. So our permits’ll be approved. They won’t be rubber-stamped, but we won’t have any problems. The good ol’ boy network.”

The girls chose that moment to emerge from the forest on the other side of the clearing. They’d taken the same path so many times that they’d started to wear a trail.

Christy saw me. She smiled and waved, and I immediately felt better about the world.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Trip asked.

“Yeah. I’ll live. Just… no more Granvilles. Please.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I inhaled a deep breath and exhaled through my nose. I did it again and stared at the sky. It was hazy from the humidity and filled with towering cumulus. Worse, it didn’t look like it was going to change any time soon.

“I can’t do anything about that, either,” I said in mild disgust.

“What? The sky? Yeah, it’s blue.”

“No, the weather. But it’s all the same.”

“I give up,” Trip said good-naturedly. “You’re determined to stay in a bad mood.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I sighed. “Don’t worry, the solution’ll be here in a minute.”

He followed my gaze. “You two need some time alone?”

“No, but thanks.”

“I don’t mind.”

“We can’t,” I argued. “We have too much work to do.”

“It’ll keep.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll take Wren and Brooke. We can still make it to the liquor store if we leave now.”

“You don’t have to.”

He snorted, polite disagreement.

“Seriously,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He’d acquired Wren’s habit of agreeing with me without listening. He waited until the girls drew within earshot. “Hey, babe, you wanna run to town? We can pick up the alcohol and then swing by the grocery store.”

Wren frowned. “I thought you were going to do it tomorrow.”

“Changed my mind,” he said.

She glanced at me and knew me well enough to see the residual tension in my expression.

Christy saw it too, and she grew concerned.

“Thought we’d pick up something special for dinner,” Trip added. “Steaks, maybe. To celebrate.”

“Sure,” Wren agreed. “So… Granville signed everything?”

“Yep.” Trip gestured at the carrying tube and roll of drawings that I still held. “Signed, sealed, and almost delivered.”

“Congratulations,” she said to me.

“Thanks.”

Trip said, “You wanna come with us, Brooke? We can listen to scores and highlights.”

She wasn’t the least bit slow on the uptake. She didn’t know the reason, but she understood that Trip wanted to give Christy and me some time alone.

“Yeah, I guess,” she said.

“Awesome. Let’s get dressed and head out. The Padres are at the Reds tonight,” he said as they walked away. “We should be able to pick up the game on AM.”

“For real?” Brooke said. “That’d be awesome! Hold on, how far is Cincinnati?”

“No idea, but I used to do it all the time when I was a kid.”

Christy didn’t even wait for them to get out of earshot.

“What’s the matter?” she asked quietly. “Are you okay? Was it Granville? Bad?”

“No worse than usual,” I said.

She didn’t believe me.

“I got worked up about something I can’t change.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay, you’ll tell me eventually.”

I smiled sardonically. “True.”

“So, do you want me to distract you instead?”

“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what I need right now, the perfect Granville antidote.”

“I knew you’d see it my way. Where do you want me, the pool or the bedroom?”

“I have a better idea.”

* * *

We left a note for the others and told them not to wait for us for dinner. Then we packed a picnic dinner of our own, along with a couple of bottles of wine. We gathered the rest of our things and threw them into the back of the pickup truck. The drive to the quarry still took twenty minutes, but it was better than a two-hour hike, especially with the heat and humidity in the upper eighties.

We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing and enjoying ourselves. We had sex, of course, but mostly we talked, about Granville, life after camp, and a million-billion other things. Finally, we lay together and simply gazed at the hazy sky in companionable silence.

The sun slanted over the trees, and the temperature felt like it had fallen several degrees. We listened to the sound of the waterfall below and the rustling of pines as the breeze picked up. Trip’s little radio played softly in the background. (I’d kept it by right of conquest.) The local rock station started a three-song rock block with Boston, “Don’t Look Back.”

Christy rolled toward me and rested her head on my chest. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

I stroked her arm with a light touch.

“I think this is my favorite place in the whole camp.”

I silently agreed, and she hummed along until the song ended. The next one started, and she laughed.

“Do you know what this one’s called? ‘Foreplay/Long Time.’ I think they’re trying to tell us something.” She moved her hand to my penis and fondled it. “What do you think, Mr. Big?”

He enjoyed the attention, but I wasn’t in a hurry. We had the rest of our lives, after all.

“I know what you just said,” Christy accused. “You get this sound in your voice. Well, not your voice, but you know what I mean. You sort of sigh happily.”

I nodded.

“I suppose we do,” she added. “Have the rest of our lives.”

I kissed the top of her head.

“I like when you’re like this. Quiet, I mean. I can hear you in my heart instead of my head.”

I felt the same way.

“I know, right?” She snuggled closer, and the breeze cooled our sun-warmed skin.

The next song began, “More Than a Feeling.”

Christy laughed again. “Now I know they’re trying to tell us something. You still aren’t in a hurry, are you? That’s okay. Neither am I.” She fell silent for a moment and then said, “I don’t know if I can explain it, but I don’t get scared anymore. Not when I’m with you. Sometimes I don’t know when things are going to happen, but they don’t seem as important as long as we’re together.”

I squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

“Like now. We haven’t talked about the you-know-what, but I’m okay with that. I really, really don’t wanna mess this up.” She released my dick and hugged me instead. “Sorry, Mr. Big. I’ll take care of you later. I promise.”

I made him twitch in agreement.

“I love when you do that,” she sighed. “It makes me think there really are two of you.”

Yep.

“I love when you do that, too. Talk to me in your head, I mean.”

Mmm.

She lapsed into thought and then said, “Trip’s been really nice lately, a perfect gentleman. Although… he’s still annoyed that you’re sleeping with Brooke and he isn’t. He hasn’t said anything, but I can tell.”

I shrugged in mild disagreement.

“I suppose you’re right. At least he pretends he’s interested in more than her body. That’s better than most guys. Besides, she doesn’t really care. She thinks he’s cute, but he isn’t her type. It’s just sex.”

I nodded.

“She was asking about Mark, too. She really wants to try three guys at once.” Christy shivered in mock revulsion. “In the butt? No, thank you! Brooke says it feels really good, but… ugh, no. Just… no.”

I chuckled at her vehemence.

“Well, how would you like it?”

I wouldn’t.

“Exactly. For the record, I’d let you do it if you really wanted to, but—”

I shook my head.

“Thank you.”

We fell silent and listened to the sounds of the wind and water. I was content to lie there, but she was still in a talkative mood.

“What do you think they’re doing back at camp?” she asked.

I shrugged, close enough to indifference that it didn’t matter.

“Do you think they’re fooling around?”

No way.

“Yeah, you’re right. Brooke’s so funny about it. Sex, I mean. She talks a good game, but she always chickens out. Like today. She wanted to seduce Trip while he was working. She didn’t, of course.”

Christy sighed. “Sometimes I think she watches too much porn. It was the same when we were younger and read all those letters in Penthouse. She wants to do that stuff, but she never does. And then she gets disappointed when guys in real life aren’t like the ones in movies and letters. That’s why she really wants to try swinging.

“Oh, and please don’t tell her I told you all this,” Christy continued. “She doesn’t mind you knowing all her secrets, but she wants to tell you herself.”

I nodded slowly.

“You already know all my secrets, don’t you? Sometimes I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d meet someone as perverted as I am. Not a guy, at least. Brooke definitely is. I think maybe she’s more perverted, but only in her head. Mmm, speaking of ‘head.’” Christy walked her fingers down my stomach. “Hello, Mr. Big. Remember me? I told you I’d take care of you.”

I guided her up for a kiss, and we made out as she stroked my dick. Then she swung her leg over my body and straddled my stomach. We continued kissing, although she nuzzled my neck and moaned when I cupped her ass. After a moment she began grinding her pussy against the underside of my cock.

The song on the radio ended, and “Feel Like Makin’ Love” began.

“Oh my gosh,” Christy laughed, “do you think they’re watching us?”

“I doubt it. But we should probably do what they say.”

“Mmm, yes, please.”

* * *

We eventually packed up and returned to camp. The temperature had dropped nearly ten degrees after the sun had set, and the humidity was down as well. The air was still warm, but nothing like it had been all week. The breeze helped, although a solid layer of stratus clouds had arrived with it. They hid the stars, but the stellar scenery was a fair trade for an otherwise pleasant evening.

Trip and the girls were drinking on the patio and listening to the ballgame on his boom box. I still had work to do, but he stopped me as I headed toward the clubhouse. They’d already organized the drawings and applications, he said, and everything was ready for our meeting in the morning.

They should’ve been in a good mood, but they were morose instead. I found out why soon enough. The Padres were losing, 8–0.

Trip finished the bottle of Jack Daniel’s about the same time the Reds finished the carnage in the ballgame. He and Wren said goodnight and disappeared into their bungalow. The game had put a damper on Brooke’s mood as well. She went to bed soon after.

I surveyed the deserted patio. “Well… that was a bummer.”

Christy shrugged philosophically. “There’s a lot of baseball left to play.”

“I was talking about Brooke and the others,” I laughed. “I don’t care about the ballgame. Although… now we have the pool to ourselves. It’d be a shame to waste the opportunity.”

“That’s what you said last time,” she accused playfully.

“Can you blame me? Besides, I didn’t get enough earlier.”

Her eyebrows rose, part question, part challenge.

“I never get enough. Not where you’re concerned.” I stood and held out a hand. “C’mon, Little Bit, you have a date with a penis.”

She grinned. “A date or a not-date?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.” She stood and took my hand, and we walked around the pool toward the stairs. “A date is where you seduce me and sweep me off my feet. A not-date is where you bend me over and fuck me.”

“Ah, I see. Then I suppose it’s a not-date.”

Her eyes flashed. “My favorite.”

“Ha! You’d’ve said the same if it was a date.”

“Of course!”

“You can’t have two favorites, you know. ‘Favorite’ is a superlative.”

“Now you sound like Brooke.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.”

We walked down the steps and into the water.

“Only, Brooke doesn’t have a penis.”

“Lucky for you,” I chuckled, “I do.”

“Mmm, I know. And it’s all mine. For the rest of our lives.” She smiled and moved close. “That’s still the worst line ever, you know.”

“Maybe.” I kissed her. “But it’s starting to grow on you, isn’t it.”

“It isn’t the only thing.” Her hand found my erection.

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“Put it in the back of my throat? And then bend over so you can fuck me?”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

* * *

Our visit to the Building and Zoning office was anticlimactic, especially after the weeks of work I’d done to get to that point. Granville met Trip and me at the county courthouse and tried to generate some pomp and circumstance. Unfortunately, his crony had gone to a conference in Myrtle Beach.

We dealt with a bored and humorless functionary instead. He stamped the applications, took our money, and gave us a receipt. Granville tried to play it off as business as usual, but it was a perfect metaphor for his life.

Part of me felt sorry for him. He’d been an important man once, a mover and shaker, with his finger on the pulse of the future. Now he was just a lonely old man with no legacy. No one needed him, and few would remember him when he was gone. I couldn’t imagine what it felt like, but it must have been bleak.

“Let’s celebrate,” I said out of the blue.

Trip gave me a look like I’d badmouthed John Lennon.

“C’mon, Granville,” I said. “Since you won’t let us pay you, we’ll take you to lunch instead.”

“Oh, no, my boy. It’s too early. But thank you. Besides, you have too much to do.”

“Nonsense.”

“We need to pick up your car from the mechanic,” Trip hinted selfishly. “And the girls are expecting us…”

“Not until later,” I said. “We have time. C’mon, let’s head to the diner and see what kind of pie they have.”

“It’s Friday,” Granville said. “Buttermilk and apple.”

“Oh, God,” Trip retched, “that sounds disgusting.”

Granville laughed, “Not together, my boy. Buttermilk pie and apple pie.”

“Still…”

“Apple pie sounds really good,” I said.

“I’ve always been partial to buttermilk,” Granville said.

“Whatever,” Trip said under his breath, low enough that Granville didn’t hear.

I shot him a quick glare before I gave Granville an encouraging smile.

“Let us thank you,” I said, “for giving us the benefit of your wisdom and experience.”

“Well, if you insist.”

* * *

We parted company with Granville a couple of hours later. He’d shaken off his funk and rambled about his favorite subject through lunch and then dessert.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Trip griped in the parking lot.

I ignored him and climbed into the car.

He slid behind the wheel, slammed the door, and kept it up. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t,” I said calmly. “He’s a narcissistic windbag, a racist, sexist, sad old man. But he’s still a person.”

“Whatever.” Trip pulled onto Main Street and headed toward the mechanic’s at the edge of town.

“The pie was good,” I said hopefully.

“It was. But not two hours’ worth.”

I shrugged. “We need Granville, remember?”

“How could I forget? I just sat through a two-hour seminar on the Greatness of Granville. Two. Hours.”

“Quit complaining. You’ll live. Besides, you’re just in a hurry to get back to camp for the party.”

“Yeah? So?”

“Dude, relax,” I said. “We told the girls we didn’t know how long it would take. Besides, they aren’t going to start without us.”

“They might,” he said sullenly.

I cocked a skeptical eyebrow.

“Yeah, all right,” he conceded, “they won’t start without us.”

“How can they? We’re the stars of the show, the main event, the studs!”

He snorted. “You’re so full of it. You don’t care.”

“Of course I do.”

“Why? You’re already sleeping with her, so it’s no big deal to you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always been the best. At everything. That is, until I met you.”

“You’re still the best,” I said. “At lots of things.”

“Not architecture.”

“No.”

“And not with women.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “You weren’t a ladies’ man even before. You’ve had… what? Three serious girlfriends?” I ticked them off, “Lori in high school, Abby in college, and now Wren. That’s it.”

“So? I’ve slept with plenty of women since. Dozens!”

“Casual sex and swingers,” I said dismissively. “I’m talking about the ones you’ve made happy. Long-term!” I added, before he could claim that he’d made the others happy too. “You have serious relationships and don’t mess ’em up.”

He scoffed.

“Fine, I’m better with women,” I said, and tried another tack. “It’s a double-edged sword. It almost cost me the one I want.”

“What? How?”

“Christy didn’t want anything to do with me. Not at first.” That wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough for the sake of argument. “She didn’t want to be another notch on my bedpost.” I paused to let that sink in. “Has any woman ever said that to you? That she didn’t want to be a notch on your bedpost?”

“No, of course not.”

“Because you don’t have a reputation for sleeping around.”

“So?” he shot back. “Neither do you.”

“Not anymore,” I said earnestly. “I used to. And it almost cost me. So… yeah, I’m better with women. So what? Besides, you aren’t exactly hurting in that department.”

“But that’s mostly Wren’s doing.”

“Who cares! You’re getting laid, aren’t you? Does it matter who sets it up?”

“I’m still the man,” he said mulishly.

“Of course you’re the man! You’re the one with the penis! But it doesn’t mean you have to think with the damn thing. You don’t have to be the one to seduce the women, either. It isn’t a competition. No one’s keeping score.”

“I am.”

“And what do you get if you win?”

That stopped him mid-comeback.

“Well?” I pressed. “What do you get if you sleep with more women than I do? MVP of the Lothario League? Is there a pennant race or something? A World Series of one-night stands?”

“No.”

“Then who cares?”

He glared, but he knew I had a point.

“Dude, relax,” I said again, with real compassion this time. “You’re better at most things. You’re arguably better with women. You keep them. I’ve managed to run off… more than I care to admit. Some really nice ones, too.”

“No kidding.”

“So, if this is any kind of ‘competition’ in the first place, it’s about the women you keep. The ones you lose should count against you.”

He thought about it and sighed heavily. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He pulled into the mechanic’s yard and parked beside a pile of discarded tires. Then he stared through the windshield and thought about what I’d said.

“For what it’s worth,” I added, “I get it. About Brooke. You have the hots for her. And if it makes you feel any better, it’s mutual.”

He brightened immediately.

“She wanted to seduce you,” I went on. “Yesterday. She chickened out, though.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. She has lots of wild ideas, but she never starts things. She needs the right guy for that. Know anyone?”

“I might,” he said with a laugh. Then he grew thoughtful. “Thanks. For… you know.”

I nodded.

“You… um… you’re a good friend. That… uh…” He blinked and looked away to hide the sudden emotion. “That means a lot.”

“It does. To me too.”

* * *

The girls hadn’t waited for us after all. They hadn’t been fooling around, but they’d decided to start drinking. They’d been enjoying themselves for a couple of hours by the time we returned from town. At the moment they were relaxing on the patio with a pitcher of something pale, fruity, and alcoholic. They stood when Trip and I rounded the corner of the clubhouse.

“All hail!” Wren cheered. She and the others broke into applause. “The returning heroes!”

“Thanks,” Trip said. “I dunno about heroes, though. It was just a zoning review.”

“But you’re real developers now,” she insisted.

“We are,” I said, more for his benefit than hers.

“It’s still early,” he cautioned. “We don’t have the permits yet.”

“Oh, brother.” Wren gave him a trademark eye-roll and then turned her glare on me. “This is all your fault.”

“Me? What’d I do?”

“He wasn’t so dark and brooding before he met you.”

“Hey!” Christy protested. “I happen to like dark and brooding.”

I shot her a look of thanks and said to Wren, “How would you know? I knew him before you. As a matter of fact, I’m the one who introduced you. Look how well that turned out.”

Christy arched an eyebrow.

“Beautifully!”

“Oh, good save,” Wren chuckled. “For a second I thought you were going to blow it.”

“I almost did,” I admitted. “Then a little birdy reminded me how lucky I am.”

“Uh-huh,” the little birdy said, unconvinced.

“I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“The second luckiest,” Wren said. She moved to Trip’s side, and he automatically put an arm around her. She stood on tiptoe and he bent for a kiss. “How’d it go?” she asked.

“Well,” he said. “We submitted everything. Now we wait. Granville is friends with the director, so we shouldn’t have any problems.”

“Did he ask a bunch of questions? I’m sure you knew all the answers.”

“What? No. It was actually pretty quick. But we had lunch afterward and talked business.”

I didn’t feel the need to contradict him, especially since his version sounded more professional than the truth.

“Oh, okay,” Wren said. “I hope you don’t mind that we started without you.”

“We didn’t know how long you were going to be,” Christy said. “Besides, Wren made white peach sangria. Yum!”

The girls weren’t drunk, but they were definitely headed that direction.

“C’mon, Trip,” I said, “let’s get out of these clothes.”

“And slip into something more comfortable?” Wren teased.

“Are you volunteering?” I shot back.

“If you play your cards right.” She looked up at Trip. “Are you okay with that?” She glanced at Christy and Brooke before he could reply. “We worked it out. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not.”

Christy gave me a nod that said she was okay with it. I glanced at Brooke and raised an eyebrow. She swallowed nervously but then nodded as well.

“Well, then,” I said, “let’s get this party started. Ladies, we’ll be right back.”

* * *

On a whim, I checked my hiding place to see if Christy’s ring was where I’d left it. The girls didn’t have any reason to get into the closet, but I wanted to be sure.

My heart rate spiked when I saw the breast of my sports coat and it was smooth. I yanked it open and immediately felt a wave of relief. The inside pocket bulged right where it should’ve. I withdrew the maroon leather box, opened the lid, and stepped back so the ring caught the light. Twin diamonds sparkled.

“Is that it?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Let me see,” Wren said. She took the box, and her eyes widened. “Wow, it’s bigger than I thought it’d be.”

My heart was still pounding, but I couldn’t resist the straight line. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”

She rolled her eyes and ignored it. “I knew her grandmother was rich, but still… this was her engagement ring?”

“Hold on, how’d you know it was hers?”

“Seriously? We talked about it. She knows you went to San Diego. Trip and his stupid ‘sewer float.’ I told him she’d figure it out, but he didn’t believe me. Men. You always underestimate us.”

“Who? Women? I don’t,” I said.

“Most of the time,” she conceded. “Trip does, though. All the time.” She sighed and admitted, “Sometimes I wish he was more like you. Well, a bit more, not too much. I kinda like him a little old-fashioned.”

I decided to tease her. “You want a guy you can control, but one who isn’t a complete pushover.”

“That’s exactly what I want,” she said without a trace of sarcasm. “And it’s why you and I wouldn’t’ve worked. You’re too much of a control freak. Besides, your pussy-eating skills are only so-so.”

“I’m not that bad.”

She gave me a flat look.

“It isn’t a competition,” I said, a bit stiffly.

“It is when you’re on the receiving end. Trust me. Would you rather get a blowjob from me or Christy?” She waited but already knew the answer. “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.” She shrugged and handed me the box. “I’m glad things worked out the way they did. For a while, I thought I’d have to beat you over the head.”

“I’m stubborn.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she laughed. “Almost as stubborn as she is. On a different subject, I like Brooke. I think we’d’ve been friends if the circumstances had been different.”

“Seriously? What changed your mind?”

“Little things. But mostly the way she is with Christy. She doesn’t let her get away with anything.”

“No,” I agreed.

“Christy’s always had this narrative about herself that doesn’t match reality. You totally bought into it, too. Remember? You used to think she was a goody-goody? I tried to tell you,” she finished in a sing-song.

“Yeah, I know. You were right.”

“I’m sorry… what was that?”

I summoned my own flat look.

“Whatever. Anyway, Brooke totally calls her on it. And… she really loves her. I thought it was puppy love, but it’s for real.”

I nodded.

“As far as that goes, you should watch out. She has a pretty serious crush on you.”

“Who? Brooke?”

“Duh! Who else?”

“I don’t think so. I’d’ve noticed.”

“Uh-huh,” Wren said insincerely. “Think what you want, but I know I’m right.”

“Not this time. But it isn’t worth arguing about. Besides, she knows Christy and I are serious.”

“Oh, she knows. But that doesn’t change things.”

“We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Whatever. I’m just saying… Be careful.”

“I will.”

“I like her,” she repeated after a moment, “but I’m glad she lives on the other side of the country! She knows exactly how hot she is, and she totally uses it to her advantage.”

“Not really,” I said, “but that isn’t worth arguing about either.”

Wren let it go and nodded at the box in my hand. “Have you decided when you’re going to ask her?”

“No.”

“Hurry up. You only have a few days to figure it out. Erin and Leah will be here tomorrow. They leave Thursday.”

“How do you know?” I challenged. “When they leave, I mean.”

She blessed me with a look of disbelief.

“Oh, right! You’re the camp manager now.”

“Uh-huh. So…” She snapped her fingers and channeled Trip. “Hustle up. Time’s a wastin’.”

“I don’t know who’s worse,” I laughed, “you or him.”

“I am. He’s basically a nice guy. I’m a scheming bitch who gets what she wants.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘bitch,’ but the rest is about right.”

“Yeah. So, figure it out. And you know how she is. She’s gonna want something romantic. So, don’t just roll off her and ask if she wants to ‘get hitched.’”

“Why?” I teased. “Is that what Trip did?”

“No! He planned a nice romantic evening. He got down on one knee and everything.” She gave me a pointed look. “You could do a lot worse.”

“Thank you, Dear Abby.”

“Whatever,” she said dismissively. “In the meantime, I’m supposed to be thanking you.”

“For what?”

“Working with me for a change, being Trip’s friend, nudging Brooke in the right direction, that sort of thing.”

“It’s what I do.”

“I know. Now, put that back in its hiding place.” She reached into the closet, opened my sports coat, and scoffed, “Very original. She’d never think to look in there.” Then she laughed. “Actually, you need to thank Brooke that she didn’t.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. Christy was talking about snooping. After she figured out you’d been to San Diego. She was only kidding, but Brooke told her to leave it alone. She said she’d tell you if she even thought Christy had been snooping for real.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. That’s when I really started to like her. She put Christy in her place.” Wren nodded at the coat. “Speaking of which, in you go.”

I dropped the box into the inside pocket, and Wren let the coat fall closed. Then she pushed it to the back of the closet and moved the other hanging clothes to cover it.

“There you go,” she said. “Like we were never here.” She closed the door, caught my hand, and tugged me toward the front room. “Come on, I owe you a blowjob.” She fluttered a wave over her shoulder without looking back. “Don’t bother. I know… my wish is your command.”

* * *

Trip and the girls were looking through his case of cassette tapes when we emerged from the bungalow. He glanced at me before he looked at Wren to make sure she was happy.

“See why I love him?” she said to me in an aside.

“What’s not to love?”

She huffed at the sarcasm but didn’t reply.

“What took y’all so long?” Trip asked when we joined them.

“I had to go to the bathroom,” Wren lied smoothly. “And then we were talking.”

“Oh, okay.” He dropped a tape into the boom box. “Party mix, spring ’83, number two.”

“Ooh, my favorite,” I mocked. He’d probably made fifty mix tapes since I’d met him, and I didn’t know spring ’83 from Spring Session M.

Be nice, Christy said with a look.

Wren was more direct. She pinched me.

“Ow!” I shot her a glare, which she met with a cool challenge.

Do it again, her expression said, and see what you get.

Serves you right, Christy added.

Yes, dear. Sorry.

Better.

“Just for that,” Trip said loftily, “you can’t listen.” He turned the boom box toward the pool and extended his hands to Christy and Brooke. “Ladies? Would you care to join me?”

“We’d be delighted,” Christy said.

David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” started as he escorted them around the pool. Christy recognized the song and twirled away from him. She danced into the pool, while Trip and Brooke walked down the stairs like normal people. Wren slid under my arm and drew my attention.

“What’s the matter with you?” she said, exasperated more than angry.

“What? The mix tape comment?”

“Duh. And the one before it.” She waited with eyebrows raised. “Well?”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sometimes he just annoys me.”

“He annoys me too, you big butthead, but that doesn’t mean I make fun of him.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

“Real people? Real feelings?”

“You don’t have to rub it in,” I grumbled. “I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do it again.”

I sighed. “I won’t.”

“Good. Now, I promised you a blowjob…”

“Seriously? You’re still in the mood?”

“I will be. Besides, I promised. Now, kiss me before I change my mind.”

I did. She leaned into me, and the kiss heated up. Then the little head decided to see what all the commotion was about.

“You’re so easy,” she laughed. Her amusement lingered and then softened into affection. “I do love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

We fell silent and enjoyed the moment, until her eyes flashed playfully.

“Are you ready?” she said. “I’m not as good as Christy, but I’ve never had any complaints.”

I snorted to myself. Only a self-centered prick would complain about a blowjob.

“Where do you want me?” I said aloud.

“Right here’s fine.”

She guided me toward a chair, grabbed a cushion from another, and tossed it to the ground. I slouched in the chair, and she sank to her knees between my feet. She smiled up at me and caressed my inner thighs. Then she wrapped both hands around my semi-hard dick. All of a sudden she laughed and had to explain.

“I think I’m finally used to you shaving down here. I still prefer the natural look, but smooth isn’t so weird anymore.”

“Uh… I’m glad?”

“Yeah. Anyway…” She rose on her knees, rested her breasts on my thighs, and stroked my cock.

I took the opportunity to glance at the pool. Trip and Brooke were talking in the shallow end. Christy was still dancing and enjoying herself, which gave Trip and Brooke time to flirt and work up to more. Wren turned and followed my gaze.

Trip said something funny to Brooke, who laughed and twisted a strand of coppery hair around her finger. Christy noticed Wren and me watching, and her smile lit up like the sun.

“God, I love her,” Wren said, almost absently.

“No kidding.”

The two girls exchanged a long look before Christy grinned and spun toward the deep end.

Wren returned her attention to me. “Where were we? Less talking, more sucking?”

“You said it, not me.”

She rolled her eyes but suited actions to words. I casually rested my hand on her head. Then I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling as her lips and tongue caressed my cock. When I opened them again, Christy was watching. She absently moistened her lips. Then she said something to Trip, who looked our direction.

“Hey,” I called to him, “d’you mind helpin’ me out?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. How?”

“Brooke wanted me to start things so you could join in.”

“You’re a little preoccupied,” he laughed.

“Exactly. So, if you don’t mind…?”

He grinned and said something to Brooke that I didn’t catch. She lowered her eyes demurely, although her cheeks glowed.

Trip moved in for a kiss, and Brooke looked up. She swallowed hard but then surrendered. She was hesitant at first, and Trip didn’t press her. That was exactly the right move. He’d just started to pull back when she leaned forward and kissed him.

“Yesss!” I hissed in triumph.

Wren stopped sucking long enough to steal a glance over her shoulder. She turned back and stroked my cock. “About time,” she added in an undertone.

“This is her first time,” I said, equally quiet. “Remember how long it took Christy.”

“Yeah, and she still won’t go all the way.”

“Her body, her choice.”

Wren knew better than to argue. “Brooke isn’t her,” she said instead.

“Fair enough. But it’s still Brooke’s body.”

“And her choice. Yeah, I know. But she’s had all week to figure it out.”

“And now she’s ready.”

Almost on cue, Trip lifted Brooke to the side of the pool. He parted her knees and moved between them. He kissed her again, but it was only a quick stop on the way to her pussy. Wren glanced over her shoulder, nodded in satisfaction, and returned her attention to me.

“Maybe he could give you lessons,” she said.

“Why? To improve my pussy-eating skills?”

“Duh.”

“I’ll check my calendar,” I laughed.

Wren rolled her eyes and started sucking again. I flicked her right nipple, and she moaned around my cock.

“You like that, huh?”

“You ’ow I ’o.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I teased. Then I tweaked both nipples. I rolled them gently, and she moaned again. “Less talking,” I said, “more moaning.”

“God, yes,” she panted. “Keep doing that, and I’ll keep doing this.”

“Your wish— Ah! Okay, okay!”

She relaxed her bite.

“Note to self,” I added, “don’t annoy the woman with your dick in her mouth.”

“Withe dethision,” she said around the dick in question.

I spared a quick glance at the others. Brooke was on her back, and Trip was doing his best to impress her with his pussy-eating skills. Christy sat next to her and watched, although her fingers were busy on her own pussy. She noticed me watching, and we shared a quick smile before we returned our attention to the people in front of us.

Wren didn’t give head like Christy, but I wasn’t about to complain. I wasn’t a self-centered prick, after all. So I enjoyed myself instead, and played with her breasts while she sucked and stroked. I also enjoyed the show across the pool. Christy was sucking Brooke’s nipples, while Trip worked his magic between her thighs.

My own climax wasn’t far away, so I focused on it and Wren. She knew I was getting close, and she began stroking in earnest. I still managed to surprise her when the first spurt flooded her mouth. She swallowed gamely and pumped until I stopped shooting.

She sat back to catch her breath, while I did the same.

“Ready for me to return the favor?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she played with my cock. It was still fairly hard, and I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking.

“Yeah, that’s better,” I said. “Hop up. Ride me instead.”

She smirked. Then she stood, turned around, and backed toward me. I’d been expecting her to face me, but I kept my mouth shut about it. She couldn’t read my mind like Christy could, but she still shot me a grin over her shoulder before she steadied my cock. Then she sat back, and her smooth pussy caressed my shaft. I guided her down, until her ass rested on my hips.

“God, that’s nice,” she said.

“No kidding.” I held her hips and began rocking my own.

My dick moved inside her, and she groaned in pleasure. I kept it up for several minutes, until she wanted more. She braced her hands on my thighs and began bouncing on my lap. We picked up the tempo, until our bodies made gentle slapping sounds. I wasn’t in danger of coming any time soon, so I glanced across the pool.

Trip and the girls had switched places. He sat on the side and leaned back, while they took turns sucking him. Then Brooke stood and sandwiched his dick between her breasts. I conjured images from when I’d been on the receiving end of that particular experience, and I chuckled at Trip’s expression.

Wren stopped fucking me and caught her breath. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry, I was just…”

She looked across the pool. “Yeah, he’s kinda goofy about tits. Can’t say I blame him, though. Hers are nice. Nicer’n mine, for sure.”

“Beauty is in the hand of the B-holder.” I sat forward and cupped Wren’s breasts.

She didn’t laugh.

“Get it?” I prompted. “B-holder?”

“I get it, but mine’re C’s.”

“No, B for breast. Not— Ugh, never mind. My puns are wasted on you.” I pulled her toward me, until her shoulders touched my chest. Her head rested on my shoulder, so I whispered in her ear, “Shut up and fuck me.”

“All right,” she laughed, “if that’s how you wanna play it. Your wish is my command.”

“Ha! Good one.”

She began rocking her hips. I didn’t think it was enough to make her come, so I found the bead of her clit and started teasing it. She panted and arched her back as her pleasure mounted.

She didn’t last long after that. Her soft moans rose in pitch until she stiffened and cried out. I twisted her nipple and rocked my hips. A fresh wave of heat and moisture flooded her pussy. Her climax peaked and then slowly receded, and she sagged against me. I caught my own breath and gazed across the pool.

Trip and Brooke were both in the water. He was fucking her slowly from behind, while she licked Christy’s pussy. He squeezed Brooke’s breast, and she gave him a quick, encouraging smile over her shoulder. He took the hint, gripped her hips, and started fucking her for real.

I watched until Wren stirred and sat forward. She stood slowly, and her pussy released my hard-on. It slapped my abdomen. I shivered automatically, but the chill had barely registered before she turned and pushed my knees together. Then she straddled my hips, steadied my cock, and returned it to the warmth of her pussy.

“God, I like dick,” she sighed.

“He likes you, too.”

“Your alter-ego?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you really talk to it?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

She rolled her eyes. Then she glanced over her shoulder and watched the others for a moment. Trip was still fucking Brooke, although Christy had joined him in the water. She urged him on while she played with Brooke’s breasts.

“Thanks again,” Wren said to me. “For everything.”

I nodded.

“You wanna come inside me?”

“What about Trip?”

“He won’t care. He’s too busy with Copper Top Barbie.” Wren rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I like her, but she’s still too perfect.”

“She isn’t perfect.”

“As far as looks are concerned…”

“It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

“Whatever.”

I glanced down, to where our bodies joined.

“Yeah, all right,” Wren admitted, “it’s what’s on the inside. And she’s actually pretty nice, even if she is too hot for comfort. My comfort,” she admitted.

“Fair enough. But…” I glanced down again. “Do you really wanna have this conversation now?”

“You’re the one who usually talks too much!”

“Whatever.”

She grinned. “Less talking, more fucking?”

“Yes, please.”

* * *

Wren made a double batch of white peach sangria and brought out a tray of hors d’oeuvre sandwiches. She made a second trip to the clubhouse and returned with a tray of carrots, celery, and radishes, along with a small bowl of ranch dip for us non-bunny types.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked Brooke. “About swinging?”

She blushed and looked shy all of a sudden.

“She loves it,” Christy said for her.

“I do,” Brooke agreed, somewhat surprised. “I thought it’d be more of an orgy, though.”

“That comes later,” Trip said.

“You have to give us time to recover,” I added.

“But there are still only five of us,” Wren said, the voice of reason. “That’s not enough for an orgy.”

“Oh, okay,” Brooke said. “That makes sense.”

“Even when there are,” Wren continued, “we usually break into couples and threesomes.”

“I’ve seen them in the movies, where there are, like, a dozen people doing it in the same room.”

“Yeah, but orgies like that only happen in porn,” I said. “Real life is different.”

“I know, but—”

“He’s right,” Wren said. “We don’t have a lot of porn-sex.”

“Speak for yourself,” I laughed. “I have porn-sex all the time. Just… not many orgies.”

“We might have one before everyone leaves for the summer,” Wren said. Then she shrugged. “It depends on the timing.”

No one actually looked at me, but I still felt the weight of their attention.

“I could do it now,” I suggested flippantly.

“Oh, no,” Christy warned. “Don’t you dare. I told you, I want a real—” She glanced at Brooke and finished meekly, “A real… um… you know.”

I suppressed a grin and pretended to be suitably chastened. “Yes, dear.”

“Well,” Trip joked, “now we know who wears the pants in the family.”

Christy stiffened with annoyance. “Paul does.”

“Oh, of course,” he said dismissively, “but we know who really calls the shots.”

“Paul does,” she repeated with a smile that didn’t reach her icy blue eyes.

“I know. I’m just kidding.”

Christy wasn’t ready to let it go, so I gave her a warning look. She backed down, albeit reluctantly.

“Well, I know how to kill a buzz,” Trip said into the silence. “I know how to fix it, though. We bought another bottle of that bourbon you like. It costs a fortune, but you’re worth it.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Christy said, still frosty.

Be nice, I warned her.

Her smile turned genuine, at least as far as the others were concerned. I could still see the lingering annoyance, but only because I knew her better.

“I’m just kidding,” she said in a near perfect imitation of Trip.

Brooke arched a coppery eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Trip decided to laugh it off. “It’s so cool how you do that. I’ll get the bourbon. And… maybe my guitar?”

It was a peace offering, and Christy considered it. She looked so much like her brother Rich that I nearly hurt myself trying not to laugh. He didn’t back down either. But Christy was her mother’s daughter, and Anne had a rule about being polite. The fight slowly went out of her. Brooke saw it too, and she hid a smile behind her hand.

“That’d be nice,” Christy said. She smiled for real, and the sun chose that moment to appear from behind the clouds.

Brooke’s amusement turned to disbelief. “Seriously? You really are the center of the universe, aren’t you?”

“Of course!”

Trip rolled his eyes before he could stop himself. My annoyance flared at that point, and he decided to make himself scarce.

“Be right back,” he said.

Brooke stood. “I’ll come with you.”

Wren watched the whole exchange with muted amusement. “That… was interesting,” she said when they’d gone. Then she touched a knuckle to her lips and lowered her head in thought. “My love…?”

“I know,” Christy said. “I’m sorry. I promised to be nice.”

“Oh, he deserved it,” Wren said. “But… maybe next time…?”

“I know. He’s the man. He has a fragile ego.”

“Not exactly fragile…” Wren glanced at me before she continued, “But he isn’t like you and me.”

“I know,” Christy repeated. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

Wren nodded and then said to me, “It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Trying to keep two people happy. I don’t know how you did it.”

“When? Before?” I opted for tact and didn’t mention Gina and Kendall by name. I didn’t admit the truth, either, that I’d made a huge mess of things. I shrugged instead. “Yeah, it’s a lot of work. But it’s worth it.”

“It is.” She smiled at Christy.

The clubhouse door swung open. Brooke emerged with the Van Winkle and a stack of fresh Solo cups. Trip carried his guitar case. He set it on the nearest table and opened it.

“Okay, let’s get this party started for real. Brooke, will you do the honors?”

“Sure.”

“Christy, do you mind…?” He sat with one leg on the table, rested the guitar on his knee, and strummed a chord. “Start with low E?”

“Of course.” She sang a clear, pure note.

“That’s still impressive,” Trip said.

“Thank you.”

Brooke poured the bourbon and passed the cups around. Wren accepted hers with a genuine smile before she returned her attention to Christy and Trip. Brooke slid into her chair, and I scooted mine closer.

“Are you really okay?” I asked in a low voice.

“I guess.” She glanced at Christy and sighed. “Sorry. I get frustrated sometimes. She’s so lucky, but she doesn’t even realize it.”

“Yeah, I know, but we love her anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Are you okay with everything else?” I asked. “Swinging? For real?”

She nodded.

“It’s a lot more complicated than the movies, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again.” She glanced at Trip and added, “I dunno why Chris’s being such a pill.”

“Long story.”

“Yeah, I know. She told me.” Her eyes returned to Trip. “I think he’s nice.”

“He is. He’s just a bit of a chauvinist sometimes.”

“Aren’t all guys?”

I shrugged and didn’t have a good answer.

“I guess that’s why we like ’em.” She sat back, sipped her bourbon, and listened as Trip finished tuning his guitar.

He began playing a Joni Mitchell song, “Big Yellow Taxi,” a sure sign that he wanted to make Christy happy. Brooke liked the song too, and she closed her eyes to listen. He played the Mamas and the Papas next, “California Dreamin’.” He sang the melody and Christy harmonized, and the tension from earlier faded entirely.

I patted Brooke’s thigh, and she smiled at the friendly gesture. Then she leaned toward me and rested her head on my shoulder. She sighed happily.

The breeze picked up and the sun disappeared behind the clouds, but none of us really cared. The weather was mild, the bourbon was smooth, and the music was relaxing. Life was very, very good.

* * *

Trip and Christy wrapped up their concert and decided to talk about music instead. Wren listened contentedly, while Brooke and I talked about camp and the weather. The clouds had moved in for good, and the sky to the west had grown noticeably darker. We weren’t in danger from an immediate downpour, but it was headed our way.

I couldn’t do anything about it, so I finished my sangria and refilled it. I hovered the pitcher over Brooke’s, waited for an objection that wasn’t coming, and refilled it too. The drink was fruity and too sweet for my taste, but I drank it all the same. It was also a lot stronger than I realized, and I already felt a warm glow.

Brooke sipped hers and sighed aloud. The alcohol made her flirty and more confident. She was ready for round two, although she hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask. The little head agreed, and he was bold enough. The big head was happy to go along with the majority.

My dick began to swell as I thought about fucking Brooke. She didn’t notice immediately, so I shifted in my seat and casually adjusted myself. I was half-hard already, and her copper eyebrows rose in surprise. Then she unconsciously moistened her lips. I made my dick twitch in response, which made her laugh. She covered it quickly, although her blue eyes smiled over her hand.

“Rain coming,” I said to no one in particular.

She frowned at the non sequitur, while the others stopped talking and seemed to notice the sky for the first time.

“Not for a couple of hours,” I added. “But still… we should probably think about moving the party inside.”

Brooke’s expression relaxed when she realized what I was up to. I shot her a grin, caught Trip’s eye, and sent a wave of telepathy at him, Threesome!

“Paul’s right,” he said. “We should probably head inside.”

“But it’s so nice out,” Christy complained. She dismissed the clouds with a wave. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

Wren suppressed a grin. “Looks like Paul isn’t the only one…”

Christy frowned. She’d been drinking bourbon while she sang, and she hadn’t switched to sangria like we had. She wasn’t drunk, but she was further along than the rest of us.

“What do you mean?” she asked uncertainly.

“He isn’t the only one… who’s slow on the uptake,” Wren finished.

“I am not slow on the uptake.”

“Oh, my love…” Wren smiled affectionately. Then she glanced at Trip and turned serious. “Why don’t you all head in. We’ll join you in a while.”

“I’m not slow,” Christy grumbled under her breath.

I stood and bent to kiss the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Only, I wanted to go for a swim.”

“Go,” I said. “Swim. Have fun. Join us in a while.”

“No, but thank you.” She sighed and forced a smile. Some part of her didn’t like when she wasn’t the center of attention. She wasn’t ungracious about it, but she couldn’t hide her feelings from me.

“Are you sure?” Brooke asked her.

“Of course. I wanna go for a swim. Besides, I… um… might be a little drunk after all.” It was a little white lie, a convenient way to pass the baton. “I should probably sober up a bit.”

“We’ll be fine,” Wren said to us. “We’ll come inside if it starts to rain.”

I surveyed the sky. “At least an hour. Probably two.”

Wren nodded and then smiled at Trip and me. “Have fun.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“Your place or mine?” I quipped, only half-serious.

“Mine.” He grinned. “Home field advantage.”

I rolled my eyes but extended a hand to Brooke. She took it and stood, and I felt a surge of desire at the sight of her body. The little head began making plans in earnest. She noticed and smiled shyly.

“Lay on, MacDuff,” I said to Trip, and suddenly remembered the last time I’d heard that phrase. I’d been about to have a threesome then, too. I chuckled at how my memory worked.

“What’s so funny?”

“Long story,” I said. “Some other time.” Like, never. I gestured for Brooke to precede me. “After you, my lady.”

* * *

Trip turned on the light as he led us into the bedroom. Brooke was excited but nervous, so I decided to make the first move. I turned her toward me and kissed her. She sighed and leaned into me as the kiss heated up. Then I pulled back and nodded at Trip.

Brooke stretched up for a kiss, and he obliged. I pressed my erection into her hip. She reached back and stroked it. Then she caught Trip’s dick with her other hand.

“God,” she panted, “I can’t believe it’s really happening.”

Trip didn’t answer with words. Instead, he cupped her face and kissed her again. She leaned into him and moaned softly. He pulled her closer, and she steadied herself with a firm grip on my hard-on. Then she turned and kissed me. I squeezed her breast and tweaked the nipple, while Trip did the same on his side.

Brooke kissed us and stroked our cocks and grew more excited with every passing moment. Then she gasped, and I realized that Trip had started playing with her pussy.

“Let’s move to the bed,” he suggested.

“Uh-uh, not yet.” She grinned and sank to her knees.

She grabbed my cock and then his. She took turns sucking one and stroking the other. She was enjoying herself, acting out a fantasy, and I wasn’t about to stop her.

Trip had other plans, and he eventually lifted Brooke to her feet. He guided her onto the bed and told her to lie back. She grinned and scooted toward the headboard.

He began by kissing her feet. Then he slowly moved toward her pussy, so I crawled up beside her. I kissed her again and squeezed her breast. Her breathing quickened as Trip spread her legs. He settled between them and began licking her pussy.

I took the opportunity to watch, although he wasn’t doing anything special. Then again, what did I know? I wasn’t on the receiving end, after all. Besides, it was probably a combination of things. I told myself to relax, that I didn’t have to be the best at everything.

Instead, I spent a couple of minutes kissing Brooke and sucking her stiff nipples. She reached for my hard-on and stroked insistently, so I rose to my knees and scooted closer. She smiled up at me and kissed the underside of my shaft. Then she closed her eyes and began sucking slowly.

“Switch places with me,” Trip said a few minutes later.

I started to move before I realized he was talking to Brooke. I sat back on my heels, and she sat up. Trip spun and lay on his back, with his head toward the foot of the bed.

“Sit on my face.”

Brooke’s eyes flashed with eagerness as she climbed into position. He latched onto her pussy like a limpet. She moaned softly and closed her eyes to enjoy it.

I stood on the mattress and moved to her side. I thrust my cock toward her, and she began sucking again. Trip stroked himself with one hand and used the other to guide Brooke’s hips where he wanted them.

We changed position a couple of minutes later. He turned toward the headboard, leaned against the pillows, and stroked his erection.

“Climb on,” he said. “No, the other way, facing Paul.”

She swung her leg over his stomach, braced her hands on his thighs, and scooted forward. Then she sat up and reached between her legs. She gripped his cock, steadied it, and groaned as he palmed her ass and guided her down.

I let them get situated before I stepped forward. Brooke started stroking my cock instead of sucking. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations in her pussy as she moved her hips. I gave her another moment. Then I put my hand on the back of her head. I guided my dick to her mouth, and she started sucking again.

We kept it up for several minutes, until Trip asked if I was ready to switch.

“What?”

He chuckled. “Earth to Paul.”

“Sorry. I was in my own little world.”

“I could tell.” He grinned and patted Brooke’s flank. “Turn around. Suck me while Paul fucks you.”

He’d grown a lot more confident in the years since we’d had our first threesome. He’d never been a shrinking violet, but he’d always been happy to follow my lead, at least when it came to sex. He had his own script now, and he wasn’t shy about directing things.

Brooke moved between his legs and thrust her ass toward me. She started by kissing his cock and tasting her own juices. Then she began sucking, and he rested his hand on her head. I teased her pussy for a moment. She moaned and sucked Trip deeper, so I kept it up.

Eventually, I scooted forward, lubricated the head of my cock, and slid into her. I steadied her hips and began fucking. She released Trip’s dick and used it as a handhold. He gave her a moment before he brushed her hair out of the way and gently guided her to his dick again.

“Nice, isn’t it?” I said.

“No kidding. She sucks a mean dick.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I joked. “You have a nice dick.”

“Uh-huh,” he said dryly. “Are you sure you aren’t a fag?”

I really didn’t like that word, but I hid my annoyance and shrugged instead.

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” he said.

“Yep, I guess so.” I gestured at Brooke, nude and impaled between us. “After all, who needs evidence?”

He smirked and didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he returned his attention to her, so I did the same. I fucked her steadily for several minutes before he suggested another change. I peevishly wondered if he was angling for Best Director in a Porn Movie, but I kept the thought to myself.

“Sure, whatever,” I said.

“How about missionary?”

I pulled out and playfully swatted Brooke’s ass. Trip scooted out from under her and rose to his knees. She rolled to her back and spread her legs for me.

“You doing okay?” I asked her.

She smiled and nodded.

“Don’t believe Wren,” Trip added. “We have porn-sex all the time.”

I suppressed an eye-roll and scooted forward on my knees. A snarky part of me wanted to play to Trip’s imaginary camera, but I decided to focus on Brooke and her pleasure instead. I rubbed the head of my cock along her channel and then teased her clit. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes to enjoy it.

“I still wish she’d left a little grass on the field,” Trip said.

’Cause it’s all about you and what you want, I thought sarcastically. Then I reminded myself that he wasn’t the worst chauvinist in the world. Besides, I’d asked her to shave in the first place because I liked it, so I didn’t have a lot of room to criticize.

“Eh, it’s all pink on the inside,” he said.

“Haven’t we had this conversation before?”

“Chill out, dude,” he laughed. “I’m just kidding.”

“I know,” I said, although I didn’t believe it.

“Besides,” he added, “we have better things to talk about.” He gestured at Brooke and squeezed her breast to emphasize his point.

“Exactly. So, what’s next?” I suppressed the urge to call him “O Great Porn Director.”

“Switch places with me,” he said, and I obliged.

He buried his cock and began fucking her, while I gave her my dick to suck.

Brooke was still enjoying herself, but her excitement had begun to wane. All the porn positions and scene changes had taken their toll. They’d certainly taken a toll on my patience. Trip didn’t show any signs of slowing down, so I decided to move things along.

“Roll over,” I said. “Let her ride you.”

He blinked and stopped thrusting. “What?”

“Let her get on top.”

“Why? What’re you thinking?”

“Do you have any lube?”

His attitude changed abruptly. “Oh, yeah, now we’re talkin’. Nightstand. Top drawer.”

I leaned toward it and opened the drawer. It was full of the usual things, including a regular vibrator and a handheld massager-thing with a couple of different heads.

“Did you find it?” Trip asked.

I grabbed the tube of K-Y and closed the drawer.

He held out his hand.

“Oh, no,” I laughed. “Her ass is mine.”

He raised an eyebrow, but I didn’t back down.

“No problem,” he said. Then he grinned at Brooke. “Have you ever been fucked by two guys at the same time?”

“No, I—”

“Then you’re in for a treat. Just relax,” he added. “We’ve done this before.”

* * *

I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and suffered a moment of confusion. I was in bed with Christy and Brooke, but I hadn’t been a moment before. Then I realized I’d been dreaming. Most of the details were hazy, and the clear ones were simply unbelievable. We’d been having a massive orgy, all the adults in camp, young and old, swingers and non-swingers alike. Everyone had been involved, including Granville.

Wait! What?

Yes, Granville. I had a vivid and slightly disturbing memory of him directing things like a movie, complete with a folding director’s chair and an old-fashioned megaphone. He was nude, but that wasn’t the disturbing part. Oh, no. He had the body of a Greek hero and a satyr’s massive erection. “Surreal” didn’t even begin to describe it.

I’d been in the middle of it all, surrounded by my personal harem, at least a dozen women. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember who they were, because I’d been too preoccupied. Doing what? Eating pie, of course—peach pie, to be exact—whatever that meant.

Fortunately, the rest of the dream had already begun to fade, so I shook it off and focused on the real world instead. Christy lay on her side, close but not quite touching. Her breathing was slow and regular. Brooke was sound asleep on the far side of the bed.

The window flashed with actinic light, followed by the crack-boom of nearby thunder, and I realized what had woken me. Then the storm ramped up its fury, and rain drummed on the roof. Another rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

Christy slept on, so I decided to wake her for a change. My erection had begun to soften, but it swelled almost painfully when I gave it some attention. I scooted toward her and was about to prod her when she reached back and unerringly found my cock.

I chuckled to myself and waited for her to roll toward me. She still didn’t move, so I hinted that I was ready with a gentle thrust. She simply tightened her grip. I began rocking my hips, but that didn’t work either.

Incredibly, she was still asleep, so I changed tactics. I slid the sheet down and kissed her bare shoulder. Then I cupped her breast and planted kisses toward her neck. She began to stir. I thrust my dick against her hand and nuzzled her ear.

She eventually woke up and tightened her fingers around my rock-hard shaft. She began stroking, while I continued kissing her neck and kneading her breast. After a moment I scooted lower and teased her pussy from behind.

She was already wet, and she moaned softly as I set my cock at her opening. I entered her slowly, lifted her leg, and thrust deeper. Then I began rocking my hips, and she thrust back against me.

We made love slowly, almost cautiously. The rain and occasional thunder covered the sounds, but the bed still rocked gently as we moved. We stopped once, when Brooke rolled toward us, but we started again when she didn’t wake up.

Christy eventually stiffened with one of her mini-orgasms. I let her catch her breath before I started thrusting again, although I didn’t last long after that. Her pussy was warm and wet after her climax, and I added my own heat and moisture to the mix.

We held each other afterward, and our breathing slowly returned to normal. My dick hadn’t softened much, and I was wide awake. I was ready for another round, although I didn’t want a threesome. Brooke still hadn’t moved, but Christy must have read my mind. She pushed my hips away and whimpered as my dick slid free.

I climbed out of bed and pulled her with me. Then I led her to the living room, where I picked her up and backed her against the wall. She automatically spread her legs, and my dick nudged her slick opening. I thrust hard. She gasped but then sighed when my hips met hers.

I pinned her against the wall, and she held on to my shoulders as I reversed my grip on her legs. I spread them wide and began thrusting. I didn’t hold back, either.

She buried her face in my chest and held on for dear life. I didn’t even try to prolong things. I simply fucked her, hard and fast, driven by a primal urge to fill her with seed.

The thunderstorm covered the moans, gasps, bumps, and slapping sounds as I fucked her. She cried out softly and then stiffened with a real orgasm, a big one. Her pussy clamped down, and that pushed me over the edge. I slammed into her, and every muscle in my body strained as my balls contracted and my cock swelled.

Waves of pleasure mingled and then merged—hers, mine, ours—all in a span of a shared heartbeat. We rode them together, our bodies connected and complete.

My orgasm eventually subsided and my brain started working again. Her climax lasted longer. She clung to me until it passed. I moistened my mouth, shifted my weight, and relaxed my grip on her thighs. She rested her forehead on my chest and let out a long breath.

“Wow.”

It was the first word that either of us had spoken since the thunder had woken me from the dream, and I wasn’t entirely sure who’d said it, her or me.

“No kidding,” I agreed.

“You can wake me like that any time. Oh my gosh, I’m still tingling.”

The window strobed with a flash of lightning, and thunder rolled over the camp. Christy looked at the unseen heavens.

“Do you think He’s trying to tell us something?”

“Yeah.” I grinned. “You rock my world.”

“No, I’m serious.”

I thought about it. “Maybe He is. Into each life some rain must fall.”

“You don’t think it’s something else?”

“Are you having second thoughts?” I asked. “About us?”

“No!” she said quickly. Too quickly.

I paused for a moment and decided that holding her by the legs was a lousy position for a longer conversation. Her back against the wall was even worse, literally and figuratively.

“Hold on,” I said, and she knew what I meant. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I carried her to the couch.

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” she asked.

I set her on her feet and patted her bottom. “Off you go.”

She returned a minute later. “Much better, thank you.”

“Right.” I waited for her to sit on my lap and get settled before I picked up where we’d left off. “Now, are you having second thoughts?”

She gave me a rueful grimace. “I was kinda hoping you’d forgotten.”

“Nope, sorry. Do you think God is trying to tell us something?”

“Maybe.” She glanced up. The rain had slowed a bit, but we could still hear it on the roof. “Like, maybe we have stormy weather in our future.”

I started to call her “Little Bit” but stopped abruptly. Another nickname popped into my head, and I smiled. She resisted the urge to fidget. Instead, she folded her hands in her lap and waited as I put my thoughts into words.

“I don’t care if we have stormy weather ahead,” I said at last. “As a matter of fact, I know we will. But I’ll always have you, my Sunshine.”

Her brow relaxed, and she let out the breath she’d been holding. She smiled instead. “You and your words,” she said fondly.

“They’re the best way to tell you what’s in my heart.”

“No, you do that every time you look at me.”

“I do,” I admitted, although she surprised me with a laugh. “What?”

“You. Even when you don’t mean to, you say exactly what I need to hear.”

I replayed my answer and then smiled. I’d only meant to reassure her, but I’d said the magic words anyway.

“Mmm hmm.” She inhaled a deep breath, held it pensively, and then exhaled in a long sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I don’t know why I’m scared all of a sudden. Only, I sort of do. It’s for real, isn’t it? Till death do us part.”

I nodded.

“And… I’m scared.”

“I’m not.”

“Nothing scares you,” she accused, both teasing and serious.

“I get scared,” I said, “all the time, especially when I think of losing you. Or that I might not be good enough.” I paused and offered a wry admission, “I was definitely scared when I had to ask your father’s permission to marry you.” I waited a beat. “He said yes, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled affectionately. “You aren’t supposed to tell me. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Well, you figured it out.”

“I know. Only…”

I ducked and looked into her eyes. “Only… what?”

“I’m just being silly.”

“A little, but this is a big decision.”

“The biggest. Bigger than the big kahuna.” She thought of something and smiled. “That word, ‘kahuna.’ It’s Hawaiian. It really means a priest. And I suppose that’s what we’re talking about.”

I followed the Christy-logic and nodded. “A Catholic priest. And the rest of our lives. For real.”

“You can say that again,” she said under her breath. In a normal voice, “You really aren’t scared?”

“Of course I am. But I’m excited too. I’ve never felt this way before. About anyone.”

“I know. Me neither. I thought I did, but… I was wrong.”

“Does it feel right this time?”

“It does.” She smiled at a memory. “Marianne used to tell me what it was like, when she fell in love with Harry. She’s a total romantic. She talked about ‘walking on air’ and how she thought she might burst with love.” Her smile turned wry. “Lynne only said, ‘when it happens, you just know.’ I thought she was just being herself. You’ve met her; you know what she’s like. But she was right. When it happens, you just know. That’s how I feel. I just know.”

“I’m glad. Me too.”

Christy started to say something but then stopped.

I furrowed my brow. “What?”

“Listen.”

“I am.” I still didn’t hear anything. “Okay, what’m I listening for?”

“The rain. It’s stopped.” She smiled. “See? He was trying to tell us something after all.”

“Oh? What?”

“That we might have stormy weather ahead, but we’ll get through it… together.”

“We will.” I fell silent and had a thought, but Christy grinned before I could say anything.

“Yes, please.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask!” I laughed.

“Of course I do.” She stood and gestured. “Come on.”

I levered myself off the couch. “I should probably worry—”

“That I can read your mind? Yes, probably. Now… are you coming?”

I took her hand, and she led me to the front door and then outside.

The air was thick with moisture in the wake of the storm. A yellow halo limned the light over the clubhouse, and the ballast buzzed softly. The pool pump whirred in the background, but it was the only other sound that broke the silence. The night chorus had all sought shelter from the storm.

Then a whippoorwill called, and another answered from across the clearing.

Christy turned and beamed. “See? They’re a couple. He is trying to tell us something.”

I only heard two birds, but she was looking for signs and portents.

“Maybe He is,” I allowed.

“We’re meant to be together.” She slipped into my arms and looked up at me, her face alight with the glow of faith. “He wants us to be happy.”

“Do you think He wants us to be happy in the pool?” I wondered.

“Please be serious. You know how important this is to me. I want God to be part of our lives. I know you don’t believe—not like I do—but I don’t think He’d’ve brought us together if He didn’t have plans for you too.”

I started to say something flippant but thought better of it. “Yes, dear.”

She frowned.

“I am being serious,” I said. “No, I don’t share your beliefs, but I want us to be happy. So I put my faith in you and me.” I didn’t think God had much to do with it, but I knew better than to say it aloud.

Christy probably heard my thoughts, but she accepted my words at face value. Then she pressed her cheek to my chest. She exhaled slowly, while I held her and waited for the moment to pass. I didn’t want to seem irreverent (again!), but I wasn’t in the mood for a long discussion about God and the nature of faith. I simply wanted to go for a swim and maybe get my rocks off. Yes, again. So sue me.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Christy laughed softly. “Mr. Big just told me.”

“Treacherous organ,” I muttered, only half joking.

“No! He’s very nice. He always tells me what you’re thinking.” She looked up. “Speaking of which… why are you so horny all of a sudden? Didn’t you get enough earlier? And last night?”

“I never get enough,” I said, but it was my default answer.

“You were having a dream, weren’t you? I thought so. You have them a lot, you know. You poke me awake.”

I chuckled. “Is that why you grabbed my dick? Earlier?”

“Probably. I might’ve been having a dream of my own.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t remember what it was, but I’m sure it involved a certain penis.”

“So… the usual.”

“I can’t help it,” she play-griped. “I like penis. Yours especially, but others too.”

“Trip’s?”

“I suppose. But I was really thinking about Mark. I… um… was talking to Erin about him. Before she left, I mean.”

I waited expectantly.

“She says he comes a lot. Not like you,” she added quickly. “You shoot a lot each time, but he comes more often. Does that make sense?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve seen him do it, haven’t you? Last year, for Leah’s birthday.” Christy laughed when she felt my surprise. “Of course I know. You told me some of it, remember? And Erin filled in the rest, with plenty of details. Hot, steamy ones.”

I felt a moment of panic, but it was automatic, a reaction to the taboo more than anything. Christy knew all about my history with Erin, so I relaxed almost as quickly.

“She still wants to go all the way,” Christy added.

“I know.” Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

“Don’t worry, she won’t try anything with other people around. Only, she likes to tease you.”

“No kidding.”

“She gets it from your mother.”

“And Susan,” I added.

Christy looked up, studied my expression, and turned serious. “Are you okay? About Susan, I mean, and the way things have changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“That you only have sex with her occasionally. I know you used to do it all the time when you were here. Erin told me,” she said before I could ask. “But now you’re with me, and you’re here.” She looked around, at the bungalows and the clearing as a whole—in other words, the Retreat. “Do you miss it?”

“What? Being down in the main camp? Sex with Susan?” I struggled to put my thoughts into words, but Christy had learned enough patience not to worry.

“Yes and no,” I said at last. “Yes, I miss the constant sex and learning new things. And I guess I miss the carefree days, when I didn’t have to worry about work and schedules and building permits and everything else. But I was a teenager back then. A kid, really. I didn’t have a lot of control over my life. I don’t miss that at all, not one bit.”

Christy nodded, and I continued to work through my feelings.

“As far as Susan goes,” I said, “I miss having sex with her, but not like you think. I know you don’t mind—”

She immediately shook her head.

“—but I guess I’ve moved on. Yeah, it’s still fun—duh, it’s sex—but I want something different now.” I searched my feelings and tried to explain. “Susan was never ‘just sex,’ but she wasn’t my girlfriend. And she definitely wasn’t someone I could marry. I couldn’t have a family with her, either. She wasn’t looking for that, and neither was I. Not at the time, at least.”

I hesitated a moment and then added, “Things have changed. I still want to have sex with her—and other women, too, for that matter—but I want someone permanent. I want a wife, a partner. I want you.”

Christy laughed softly, mostly to herself. “Never in a million years…,” she said at last. She didn’t elaborate, so I prompted her with a look.

“Hey, I gave you time,” she groused playfully.

“Fair enough. Take all the time you need. We have the rest of our lives.”

She rewarded me with a familiar wry grimace but then smiled. “I never thought I’d hear my boyfriend— Excuse me, my future husband say he wants to have sex with other women. Not and react the way I did.”

“Oh?”

“Do you need to ask?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Mmm. I like being a swinger,” she said. “And I suppose that’s why I asked about Susan. I know how you feel about her. Only, I don’t want to come between you.”

“You won’t.”

“I know. But I still had to ask.”

I nodded.

“It’s weird, though… I don’t want to do anything with her, but I get excited about watching. The same with your mother, I suppose. I wouldn’t mind watching…,” she hinted.

“What?” I chuckled. “A repeat of spring break? More ‘best laid plans’?” I gave it some serious thought but then shook my head. “That was a one-time thing, an itch we needed to scratch.”

“I suppose,” Christy said with polite doubt.

“I don’t think it’ll happen again,” I said, more firmly. “I don’t get that vibe from her. Not anymore.”

“If you say so. For the record, it was just a thought, not a suggestion.” She paused before she dropped the real bomb, “It’s different with Erin.”

I held very still. “Different how?”

“You know,” she said, cryptic and obvious at the same time. “It might not happen this week, but it’s going to happen.”

“And you know this… how?”

“A little birdy told me,” she said whimsically. “A little birdy who’s going to make it happen. Oh my gosh, Paul, I get all hot and slippery when I think about it.”

“Like now?” I teased.

“Do you need to ask?” she repeated coyly.

“Nope.”

“I’ve been thinking about other things, too.”

“Like Leah?”

“Oh my gosh, yes! She’s so beautiful and exotic. But that isn’t what I was talking about. Well, it sort of is, but not really. Erin was telling me about this game. Blindfold Blowjob Bingo…?”

To be continued…

* * *

Read the next book in the series,

So Long, Summer Camp.

Coming Soon