Page 5 of Red, White, and You (Merry Little Midlife #3)

My chest is tight, a vise around my lungs that makes it difficult to breathe, because when this man asks me how it feels to have everything I’ve ever wanted, the answer is a resounding, loud and painful one.

I don’t have everything I’ve ever wanted.

Because I don’t have him .

He waits for me quietly, letting me sort through my thoughts like the patient man that he is. But the way his eyes search mine makes my chest ache with longing.

Brady sees me; he knows my response before I even say it aloud.

He was always so relaxed, so… opposite me.

I had plans and ambition; he had sleeping in, working odd jobs only to pay the bills, and weekly games of pool or poker with his friends.

I’ve always been of the ‘if you’re not first, you’re last’ mindset, while my ex has always been about ‘stop and smell the roses’. The tortoise and the hare.

Somehow, we managed to make our differences work, even if only briefly.

But eventually, the shine and allure of new love couldn’t outweigh our differences, couldn’t compete with my ambition.

And now the man owns an adult summer camp—and an entire lake!—where the theme is playing, relaxing, and smelling the goddamn roses. It’s almost comical how perfectly this place suits him.

And how differently our lives turned out.

But the answer is obvious, nonetheless, a Brady-shaped hole in my chest that has never been filled.

Finally, when I can deny him no longer, I answer honestly. “Lonely.”

He flinches, as if my admission physically pains him, but before I can take the word back, Brady’s lips crash against mine, and when something between a sigh and a sob parts my lips, his tongue slips between them to tangle with mine.

I drag my hands through his unruly dirty-blond hair, then down his neck and across his shoulders, digging into him, feeling him, making sure he’s real . It’s too much and not enough all at once.

He wraps his arms around me and hauls me closer, one hand splayed across my back and the other gripping my ass. He presses our hips together, reintroducing me to the hard ridges of his body, the thickness of his cock as it swells for me.

I moan and Brady deepens the kiss, teasing my tongue with firm, searching strokes as his hand tightens on my ass.

He drags his mouth down my neck, then presses his nose against my pulse and breaths deeply.

He nips at my flesh as he makes his way down to dip his tongue into the little depression in the center of my collarbones, then his hands move to the sides of my blouse, tugging it out from my skirt.

He slips his hands beneath the silk, palming my breasts and drawing my nipples into stiff peaks that press against their lace prison almost painfully.

“Brady,” I say on an exhale.

He makes a low growl, deep in his throat. “Say it again, Brie. ”

“Brady,” I comply, the word becoming a desperate plea.

A flash of pain pinches his features. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear my name on your lips again—”

A knock on the cabin door interrupts us, followed by a woman’s voice calling, “Boss? You in there?” She pauses and Brady curses under his breath, closing his eyes on a long blink. “We have an issue with payment from that couple in twenty-seven again.”

“Again?” I raise my eyebrows.

Brady shakes his head. “I’m sorry. Duty calls.”

I nod in understanding even though I don’t really understand. “What do you…?” I pause, trying to figure out what I’m asking when my brain is a lust-addled jumble of thoughts. “What exactly are your duties?”

He laughs, then places a kiss on my nose. “All of them.” He pats my bottom playfully. “Go get changed into camping clothes, and I’ll meet you out front in five. Cool?”

Nodding, I say nothing as Brady leaves me to answer the door, adjusting himself as he goes. He’s careful not to swing the door open as he steps outside, allowing me much needed privacy. I must look like a nearly-ravished, disheveled mess.

Once he’s outside and the door is closed, I exhale. Bringing my hand to my lips, I trace over the remnants of his kiss, the rawness left behind by his beard stubble, and smile against my fingertips.

How will I leave him again when the week is over?

Giving my head a quick shake, I push the thought aside. Better to cross that bridge when it comes. I retrieve my luggage and roll it toward the…

Oh. Hmm.

There’s no walk-in closet. I’m sure I’m silly for expecting one, but there’s not even a regular closet or wardrobe .

I scan the small room, assessing what my lodging will be for the week.

There’s a full or possibly queen-sized bed in the center; its plush white bedding and an assortment of fluffy pillows make it seem out of place in the rustic cabin.

To the left of the bed is the doorway to what must be a small bathroom, and to the right, two wooden luggage stands lean against the wall, each of them looking as old and worn out as the rest of this place.

Nightstands sit on either side of the head of the bed, complete with mismatched brass reading lamps on each.

A pitcher of water and glass sit on one, and an alarm clock sits atop the other, beside a bouquet of my favorite flowers.

Thick shag rugs that appear to be brand new line the floor on each side of the bed, and something tells me that this is not how every cabin is furnished. No, this has Brady written all over it, and I smile at the thought he must have put into my comfort level.

What other surprises will he have in store for me?

I place first one suitcase and then the other onto the luggage racks, then open them both and sift through the contents until I find a pair of blue jeans and a simple white t-shirt.

I certainly didn’t own hiking boots before this trip, but thankfully, my assistant thought of everything, and a brand-new pair is tucked inside one of the suitcases.

I dress quickly and head out to join Brady on the porch. I’m uncomfortable in these clothes, nervous about mosquitoes, fearful that I won’t be able to relax, but one look into his gorgeous blue eyes pushes all of my concerns aside.

He rises to his feet, the porch swing he just vacated swinging softly behind him.

“Wow,” he breathes .

Grinning, I spin in a slow circle. “Apparently I own jeans and hiking boots.”

“They look good on you.”

“Debatable.”

“It’s been way too long, Brie.”

I give him a sad smile, but I don’t know what to say. It has been too long, but admitting that changes nothing.

My life is in New York; his is obviously here in Pennsylvania.

One week together won’t alter those facts.

Brady gives a subtle nod, as if he follows my thoughts, then extends his hand toward me. “Come on. Let me show you around.”

Sliding my hand into his, I’m struck with the familiarity of this simple gesture. Decades apart, and we’re touching as if no time has passed at all. Easy and familiar, holding his hand feels like the most natural thing I’ve done in years.

He motions to the lake, then glances at me with amusement in his eyes. “That’s the lake.”

I chuckle and nod. “I see that.”

“Play your cards right, and I might invite you skinny dipping later.”

The prospect of being naked with this man—even if it is in a public lake—sends a shiver of excitement skittering down my spine. “Quite bold of you to assume I’d accept that invitation.”

He squeezes my hand. “We have water skiing, a pair of jet skis, a fishing boat, a couple of pontoons, and some inflatables”—he pauses to glance at me again—“you should have seen those in the flier. Big selling point.”

Inflatable water toys wouldn’t be the selling point for me, but what would be? Other than the camp’s owner, obviously .

As we walk, he points out various activities, or directs me to the signs that would lead me down trails toward various places.

“We have all the things a typical kids’ summer camp has: archery, zip line, crafts, bonfires, theme nights, water guns and water balloons…

” He motions toward a large outdoor amphitheater.

“Concerts and open mic nights.” I try to hide my grimace but he catches it and laughs. “Nothing is mandatory.”

“That’s a relief.”

Brady leads me to a large swimming pool, already packed with people. A bachelorette party poses for photos on the far end, complete with matching pink bathing suits, save for the bride who’s in a white bikini with a sheer veil that hangs over her rump.

It hadn’t occurred to me that this might be a destination for something like that, but Camp West is slowly growing on me.

People wave to Brady as we continue walking. He waves back, but still grips my hand tightly, his fingers intertwined with mine. It feels good to be by his side again.

He leads me to a small cabin with a large sign above the door that reads Main Office , holding the door for me to enter first. “On the other side of West Lake,” he continues as we step inside to the air conditioning, “there’s an adventure course, basketball court, beach volleyball, dodgeball, tennis, rock climbing…

” He trails off as he reads my expression.

“All right, that does probably seem like a lot.” He winks and I melt, then he reaches up and traces my cheekbone with his thumb.

“You’re not going to have time for all that anyway. ”

“I’m not?” Thank God.

Brady shakes his head. “I don’t plan on letting you leave my arms, Brielle. ”

Butterflies kick to life in my stomach in response to the promise of his words and the heat in his eyes.

He leans forward—

“Oh, good, you’re here.”

Brady grins, then turns us toward the woman standing in the doorway at the back of the office. He motions toward her as he says, “Brie, meet Duffy, my right hand.” The girl beams and Brady adds, “Duff, this is Brie. My wife.”

My heart skips a beat, but I quickly clarify, “Ex-wife,” as I extend my hand and step toward the young redhead.

She smiles and rushes to shake my hand, clearly excited to meet me, as though…

I narrow my eyes and look back at Brady over my shoulder.

He grins proudly, standing tall.

As though he’s been telling her about me. As though he’s proud to introduce me.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” Duffy says, shaking my hand vigorously.

My heart soars at the thought of him telling people about me, about us, then sinks heavily at the realization that it will only be harder to say our goodbyes at the end of the week.

I swallow hard, emotion thickening my throat. Forcing a smile, I try to get through the next few moments of awkward introductions without breaking into a million pieces.