Page 95 of Camp Bliss
Instead, I clear my throat. “You should get that.”
I’m surprised I can even form a sentence, but it must be coherent because Zach drops his thunderous gaze, reaches into his pocket, draws out his phone.
Then his frown twists in confusion.
“It’s my Dad.” He sounds bewildered.
He taps the screen and puts the phone to his ear. “Dad? Everything okay?”
It’s muted and undecipherable, but I hear the tinny cadence of his father’s reply.
And Zach’s brows cinch tighter.
“WHAT?!”
Suddenly worried, I bite my lip and pray this isn’t bad news.
“What do you mean, you and Mom are ready to check-in?”
* * *
Thirty seconds later,I’m unclipping my helmet with shaking hands and shedding my harness like it’s full of spiders.
Zach’s parents are here.Theyare our Camp Bliss South guests. They wanted it to be a surprise.
Well, I’m definitely surprised.
And freaked the hell out.
By the strained look on his face, Zach is too. Probably not what his parents intended.
Technically, check-in is at four o’clock, and the Rousseaus are about an hour early. Their cabin is ready, of course, but I’m a wreck. And I’m supposed to be the one who greets the guests.
I just kissed their son’s face off, and he’s not looking me in the eye right now, so how am I supposed to lookthemin the eye?
But he must be reading my mind because—without looking at me—he says. “I’ll go get them settled into their cabin and grab a shower.” His gaze is somewhere around my ankles, giving me a great view of that scowl. “They’ll want a tour. You, uh, you think you can help me with that?”
I swallow panic. “Um…” I stall. And then my brain starts working. “We’ll see. The North cabin guests will be checking in later too. I’ll need to have refreshments ready for everyone.”
“Right,” Zach mutters. He glances at me and looks away before I can read his eyes.
I have no idea what he’s thinking. I’m not even sure what I’m thinking.
That kiss was…
Was…
Redefining?
Mind-blowing?
A conversion experience?
All of the above.
And it also may have been the biggest mistake of my life.
Panic threatens to hijack me. “Zach, maybe we should ta—”
