Timid (Lark Cove, #2)

“Come on, Betty,” he grumbled.

“Sorry.” Mom held up her hands, then looked to me. “I’m just happy for you, honey. From the sounds of it, you’re having the time of your life.”

I opened my mouth to say thanks, but the look on Dad’s face stopped me. He was about as green as the cucumber he was halving.

“What?” I asked him, then looked at Mom.

“What?” Her eyes widened. “Nothing!”

“You said, ‘From the sounds of it, you’re having the time of your life,’ and then Dad practically gagged. What do you mean, the sounds of it?”

She grimaced and the fork in my hand dropped to my plate, sending lettuce flying.

They could hear Jackson and me at night? Nooooo.

I stared at Mom, hoping she’d say it wasn’t true, but she just shook her head. “We leave our windows open at night. You do too. Sound carries across the backyard.”

My dinner was dangerously close to coming back up.

Up until two weeks ago, I hadn’t even known I had the ability to make some of the noises Jackson could conjure as he toyed with my body. The shy girl was a screamer. Who knew?

But those sounds were definitely not ones I wanted drifting into my parents’ bedroom at night.

I buried my face in my hands, wanting to crawl under the table and die.

I’d never been this embarrassed before. Never. Not when Jackson had forgotten about our first kiss. Not the time my junior year that I’d leaned in too close to a Bunsen burner in chemistry and accidentally singed off part of an eyebrow. Not even the time in seventh grade when I’d sneezed during the silent prayer time at church and accidentally farted loud enough for three pews to hear.

This was worse.

So. Much. Worse.

“Sorry,” I said into my hands.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Mom took one of my wrists, tugging my hand away from my face. “Now that it’s getting cooler, we’ll close our windows at night.”

I nodded. “Me too.”

“So how did the last week of camp go?” Mom asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“It was great,” I told them. “It’s always hard to say good-bye to the staff.”

“They’ll be back.” Dad gave me a reassuring smile, doing his best to move on from the awkward moments.

“I hope so.”

My camp was structured differently from a lot of others around the state. Other summer programs had limited staff on hand, typically just a director and maintenance manager. The kids were chaperoned by volunteer parents at whichever organization was sponsoring the camp.

But at mine, we employed a full-time counseling staff. They were all college kids who wanted to spend their summers in Lark Cove. They were content to live in a bunkhouse with their sleeping bags and limited space for personal belongings, right alongside the kids. It wasn’t glamorous, but they did it for the experience.

I paid them as well as possible because of how much they were giving up. They didn’t get many days off to hang out with friends. They didn’t get a lot of free time to spend on the lake. Other than the staff lounge in the main lodge, they didn’t even have their own private space.

But their energy never waned.

Somehow, every year I managed to find a group of counselors who could match my enthusiasm beat for beat. It wasn’t uncommon for counselors to return for a second year, some even three. And when they knew they weren’t going to come back because they were graduating or had other job offers, they helped me recruit a replacement.

More often than not, the outgoing counselor put the incoming recruit through a more rigorous examination than I ever could.

I’d miss the counselors who’d be moving on after this season.

“Did you hear back from the coffee hut?” Mom asked.

“Yeah.” I frowned. “They don’t have any positions open, but they said they’d keep me in mind if something changes this winter.”

And since I didn’t know of any other place looking for part-time help, I was facing another boring winter.

It wasn’t all that surprising. There wasn’t much employee turnover in any Lark Cove business. People wanted to work close to home, so they held on to their jobs with a death grip.

“All ready for school to start, Dad?”

He nodded. “Ready as ever. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks rearranging my classroom. Now that you’re not so busy at camp, you’ll have to come by and check it out.”

“I’ll be there.”

I loved going back to the school, not just because it brought back memories from my own time as a student, but also because it brought back memories of when I’d gone in as Dad’s special assistant.

Every summer, he rearranged his classroom. He’d test out the new experiments he wanted to try with his classes. He’d redecorate his bulletin boards. And I’d be his helper.

I missed those days.

As Mom, Dad and I chatted more about Dad’s plans for the first day of school, my appetite returned and I finished my plate. “Thanks, Mom. That was delicious.”

“Yes, it was.” Dad stood from the table. “Thanks for dinner, dear.” He kissed her on the forehead, collected both their plates and took them into the kitchen.

Mom smiled as she watched him walk away. “Your dad and I were going to rent a movie tonight. Will you stay and watch it with us?”

I checked the clock on the wall. I’d promised Jackson I’d come down to the bar to keep him company and it was about time to leave.

“Please?” Mom placed her hand over mine. “Your dad feels like he’s losing his baby girl. It would mean a lot if you stayed.”

“Okay.” The bar would be there tomorrow. “Just let me text Jackson.”

She smiled and cleared my plate as I took out my phone to tell Jackson I’d be down after the movie.

His reply was fast. Sounds good, babe. Don’t walk if it’s dark.

I smiled at the screen. He was always so concerned with my safety. Nothing bad ever happened in Lark Cove so it was sort of unnecessary, but I didn’t argue.

Jackson’s past explained a lot about him. He didn’t trust easily. Other than Hazel and Thea, his instinct was to keep people at arm’s length. Even me, to some degree. He was slowly letting me in, but it would take time.

My theory was that Jackson expected people to abandon him.

People had disappeared from his life, one after another. As far as I knew, he didn’t know his father. His mother was . . . well, I didn’t have nice words to say about her. The same was true for his aunt.

And I wasn’t sure how many foster siblings he’d watched come in the door and go right back out.

Jackson didn’t have a constant. He didn’t have a person dedicated to always being by his side, someone who would choose him first. He didn’t have a champion.

Until now.

Since my confession about our actual first kiss, I’d let go of all my fears and doubts. I was holding nothing back when it came to our relationship. Because maybe if I let him in completely, he’d do the same with me.

Maybe he’d trust me with his heart.

“Willa?” Mom called from the kitchen. “Do you want popcorn?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t really hungry but undoubtedly I’d eat a bowl or two. Popcorn was a requirement for movies in this house.

I tucked my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and stood from the table, taking the remaining silverware to the kitchen. The evenings were cooling down quickly now that it was almost September. I’d worn jeans tonight for dinner but had pulled on a pink, hooded pullover since I knew I’d be walking down to the bar. My days of wearing sundresses and sandals would soon come to an end for the six-plus long months of winter.

Jackson would be trading out the T-shirts he wore under his plaid shirts for long-sleeved thermals soon. I’d always loved watching his transition to warmer clothes and this year would be even better than most.