Page 6 of Camp Bliss
She’s still smiling, but now I’m certain it’s fake.
“Did you bring me some beer?” Josh asks, shading his eyes with his hands.
Greta arches a brow at him. “I might have brought y’all a soft pack witha fewbeers in it, but you need to drink some Gatorade first.” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The way she babies him is annoying AF. “Also, babe, you forgot your hat.” She turns back to the Polaris and anchors a knee on the seat, bending over to reach beyond the unmoving Corgi to snag the insulated pack and Josh’s hat.
I drop my gaze to the dirt.
“You should have a hat, too, Zach.”
“I’m good,” I mutter. Definitely don’t want her babying me. Nope.
But I shouldn’t have bothered responding. When I look back, she’s grinning up at Josh as she settles the wide-brim bucket hat onto his head. Greta bounces on her toes as she cinches up the little drawstring then places a kiss on this tip of his nose.
This time I give in and roll my eyes with abandon.
Knowing this might be a while, I pluck up the Gatorade cooler Greta delivered and start walking. Josh’s truck and trailer are three posts down. We only move it every six spots or so. I set the new cooler down next to the near-empty one and busy myself refilling the bottle I keep on my utility belt.
When it’s full, I take a sip. The lemon-lime drink is so cold, my teeth ache. I chug the whole bottle and feel the icy flush all the way down. For the first time in hours, the sweat on my skin seems to cool me.
I refill my bottle, cap it, and make my way back. Greta is still playing with the drawstring of Josh’s hat, one fingertip tracing the neck of his T-shirt, talking to him. Josh is sipping on a beer he just cracked open. Luckily, I can’t hear what they’re saying.
I pick up the auger again and give Josh a pointed look.
“How much longer are y’all going to be?”
Josh snorts and throws a glance over his shoulder at the seemingly endless line of stakes.
“Zach thinks we can finish this whole side today.”
“Wecan.”
Both Josh and Greta flinch at the bite in my tone, and now I feel like a jerk.
Greta’s brows screw up. “Zach, you really should have a hat. Your face is all red.”
“She’s right.”
They’re both watching me, and if my face wasn’t red before, it is now. But that’s nothing new. It’s always red.
“Nah, I’m fine.”
Greta smirks. “You going for skin cancer or just more freckles?”
The C-word makes me flinch. Josh must not have said anything to her, and I want to keep it that way.
“Dude—” Josh breaks into a laugh. “She justownedyou.”
I glare at him. “Are we gonna get back to work?”
Greta rolls her eyes and peels off her pink baseball cap. “Here.” She thrusts it at me. When I don’t take it, she steps into my space. Adrenals blare an alarm as though her touch is poisonous, and I fight the urge to push her away.
But she’s right there, trying to shove the damn thing over my mop of hair. “Whoa. You have a big head.”
Josh’s laughter stretches out like gum on the bottom of a shoe. He only stops to bring the beer back to his lips. Greta doesn’t bother stepping back as she gives up on forcing the hat onto my head and adjusts the strap on the back instead.
She smells like sweat. And lilacs.
I take an involuntary step back.
