Page 108 of First Bride to Fall
He resisted a grin, liking that he’d had that effect on her. “That’s the refrigerator.”
She glanced over her shoulder, and the color drained from her face. “Right.”
He pointed to the cabinet where the cookware went, and she put the frying pan away.
Grant hovered in the doorway. “So, I guess I’ll see you later?”
“Later.” She caught her breath. “Yeah.”
“So.” He swallowed hard. “Good luck with that tent, then.”
“Thanks.” She beamed at him. “Happy fishing!”
What had just happened between them? Current still hummed through his body like an electric rain pouring down from a thunder-and-lightning-torn-up sky. He could not keep doing this, risk experiencing an attraction with Nell. He needed to put all thoughts of the two of them being together completely out of his mind. But that was very hard to do with so many antagonizing, infuriating, and—yes, darn it—enticingmemories of his interactions with her swirling around in his head. Fishing generally helped him forget about everything else. This time, though, he wasn’t sure it would be enough.
…
What seemed like hours later, Nell sat cross-legged on the sleeping bag almost in tears. She’d gotten the poles all mixed up when she’d laid them out on the grass trying to organize them. Now she wasn’t sure which ones were A, B, or C. The D, E, and F parts were even more elusive, since those were the shorter rods and there were a gazillion of them.
At least focusing on the tent had helped keep her mind off of what had happened in the kitchen. When she’d fought over that dish towel with Grant, she’d nearly lost her mind with desire for the guy, even though she knew that was so wrong. She didn’t want Grant any longer. She didn’t evenlikehim. Much less want to go getting all physical with the—okay, okay—incredibly hot and in-some-small-ways still attractive man.
Her heart fluttered at the memory of his kisses on the sofa on Saturday night. He’d been so caring and tender at the time. They’d been in such a different place. Totally and happily falling in love. She’d been foolish to believe so many wonderful things about him. Trusting and naive to a fault.
She never would have pegged Grant for a guy who would grow so coldhearted and calculating, orchestrating a really horrible way to dump her by having her dump him.
She hoped he was enjoying himself immensely.
Because she wasnot.
She dug her hand into the potato chip bag and pulled out a bunch more chips, shoving them into her mouth. This tent was worse than a thousand-piece puzzle. Much worse. It was like that 3D puzzle Misty had gotten as a present last Christmas. The one of the Majestic, Maine, lighthouse with tons of blue waves and brown sand, then more blue sky above that. All this brain work had made her hungry, but the junk food hadn’t helped her come up with any solutions, either.
She had the nineteen stakes at least. She’d recognized those almost immediately. There was a small rubber mallet in the tent bag, and she’d used that to drive the stakes into the ground, approximately where she gauged they would go with the tent laid out. That was before she’d read on the instructions that she was supposed to do that part last. Didn’t matter. Fact was, she still had no clue how to put the stupid tent up or get inside it.
Don’t freak.
You can do this.
You’re especially going to do this because Grant thinks you can’t.
She’d wielded a log splitter of all things. Putting up a tent should be child’s play compared to that. In truth, kids put up tents all the time. Nell used to do that with her sisters in their bedrooms by stretching out sheets and blankets across the furniture. The issue before her seemed a little more complex, though. Maybe if she crept in through the front flap and lifted it up with her hands above her shoulders, she could get a clue how this whole thing fit together?
She slunk through its opening, and the weight of the tent sagged against her back. She held her arms up overhead and pushed with her hands—way up. There were the LED lights in the ceiling—sweet!—but they weren’t switched on. And oh! Interesting. Here were the pockets into which she could insert some of those poles, maybe. She just didn’t know which pockets went with which poles, or which poles connected, or how. It would have been nice to have things color coded. Could someonepleasetell her why nobody’d thought of that?
Hang on. Maybe she should figure out first which of the poles fit together?
She could do all that on the ground as a dry run, then bring the poles in here.
Okay. She had a plan. This was worth a shot.
Forty minutes and two YouTube video tutorials later, she’d finally done it. Yay! She’d put up the tent. It looked beautiful, too, with that awning up above its front door. She held the small remote for the LED lights inside and couldn’t wait to try them out. Grant was going to flip when he returned. She’d not only beaten him at his own game, they now had a pretty amazing intact tent. All she had to do was start the campfire.
She slipped into the tent and turned on the lights using the remote, and well, it was almost magical in there. Then something scary happened, breaking the spell.
A shadow moved outside the tent, and Nell’s heart lurched.
It couldn’t be Grant. It was still too early, wasn’t it?
She told herself to be still and not breathe.
