Page 36 of One Week Hating You
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I’M COZY AND WARM in my jeans and a soft hoodie sweater – camping wear. It’s raining outside, and we’re huddled into the small booth kitchen table, the girls on one side, and the boys on the other. The view from the windows surrounding the table is nothing but trees – so pretty. We’re eating Blake’s famous burgers. He’s prepared them himself and grilled them on the small barbecue hanging off the side of the camper. He’s also made a yummy macaroni salad. I swallow another delicious bite. “I’m impressed,” I tell him. “You’ve really got it together when it comes to camping.”
He smiles. “Yeah, I’m the King of camping and fishing, everywhere else I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, uncle Blake,” Maddie chimes in, shaking her head. “You’re awesome.”
He smiles. “Why, thanks for the vote of confidence, Maddie. You’re officially my favorite niece.”
She grins. “I’m youronlyniece, silly.”
I bite my lip. “I wouldn’t quite say you’re a mess. You have a house, a business. Okay, so you desperately need a haircut and a shave, and there are five holes in your jeans.”
He laughs, burger in hand. “Five?”
“Yes, we counted,” Jake tells him, “when you were chopping wood.”
He smiles, a wide delicious grin. “So, while I was working hard, you were all lazing around, just watching me?” He turns to me and cocks his brow. “Ogling me?” he whispers.
I laugh. “No. No ogling,” I lie. Yep, I was totally ogling.
“This takes me back,” he says. “Remember when we used to go camping as kids?” he asks. “Auntie Maeve was such a girl. I used to love to catch toads and throw them at her.”
I cringe at the memory. He was such a jerk, even as a kid. I honestly don’t know why I ever went out with him. I suppose you could blame it on teenage hormones. “Remember the s’mores contest?” I ask. “I totally beat your ass… um, your butt.”
He smiles again. “Did you know that Auntie Maeve can’t hold a worm? She’s afraid of them.”
I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of them. They just freak me out, that’s all. They’re all wiggly and slimy.”
“I hate them too,” Jake says.
“I love them,” Maddie tells me. “I like to dig them up for Daddy and uncle Blake.”
“And look at her shoes,” Blake adds. “Could they be any whiter? She must have just bought them.”
I stare down at my pristine Keds. I like them like that; white and clean. What’s wrong with that? “I’ve had them for a year, actually.”
He laughs, and I just want to reach over the table and slap him.
“How ‘bout you?” I ask Maddie, deciding to change the subject. Blake is just trying to rile me up, and I won’t give him the satisfaction. “Have you been out fishing?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’m awesome.”
Blake smiles. “She is.” For a long second, my gaze lingers on his wide grin. His beautiful smile has always been my Achilles heel. He can be a total jerk, but as soon as he flashes me that smile, I forget everything and melt.
“Does Parker fish?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Peter,” I remind him. “You know his name. You just pretend not to remember. And no, he doesn’t fish.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” he says. “He doesn’t look like the rugged type.”
“How would you know?” I ask. “You’ve never even met him.”
“I’ve seen pictures, and that’s all I need,” he says. “A picture paints a thousand words, right?”
“Um…” I clear my throat. “You’re being a jerk again,” I whisper.
“Yeah, you’re being a jerk,” Maddie parrots. “Uncle Peter is nice,” she says matter-of-factly. She brings a small finger to her mouth and mulls something over. “I guess he was sort of a jerk when he didn’t marry auntie Maeve. He left her waiting there on that fancy sofa, crying her eyes out—”
