I move closer until I’m practically climbing onto his back.
He talks the entire time, as if he can sense my apprehension behind him. He talks about camping with his dad back in Australia. How his sisters never had any interest in going until his friends started tagging along. He tells me he came by here the other day to stake out the grounds for our weekend. There’s a lake, and a few hiking trails he thinks I’ll enjoy checking out. He smiles over his shoulder when I let out a doubtful chuckle, which I play up. I like lakes. I might like hiking.
It’s as if the fresh air is drugging me.
When we reach a large clearing in the woods, I watch Mason set everything down by two logs. Tent. Cooler. My bag and his. He kicks some rocks and branches out of the way and immediately goes about setting up the tent.
I drop the sleeping bag and look around.
It’s a wide-open space, room enough for at least a handful of other tents, but we’re alone. There’s a fire pit contained by an ill-defined rock formation. It resembles somewhat of a circle. The wood in the center looks recently burned. A metal grill that seems to be a courtesy for campers to use is located next to a large rectangular picnic table.
Nice. At least we won’t have to eat with our asses in the dirt.
Stepping to the edge of the clearing, I stand on my toes and peer through a break in the trees.
“Hey. We’re right by the lake,” I tell Mason, looking over my shoulder. “Did you know that?”
Literally, right by it. It can’t be more than fifty feet away.
His smiling face appears from around the back of the tent. “Yeah. That’s one of the reasons why I picked this campsite. The other two are pretty secluded and nowhere near the toilets. Figured you’d do better out here if I kept us in walking distance of those.”
“Good thinking. I’d hate you for life if you told me I had to go pee in a bucket or something.”
His chuckle is broken up by the sound of my ringtone. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and look at the screen.
“Hey, Juls,” I answer, watching Mason disappear again behind the tent.
“Hey, stranger. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. Where are you?”
“Camping.”
My nephew Jacob yells something in the background. I hear Ian’s voice, then the sound of a door closing. “Say that again? It sounded like you said camping.” She laughs. “Jesus. Can you imagine? You? Camping? I think there’s a better chance of Ian carrying our next child.”
I roll my eyes. “I did say camping. And Ian probably could carry a baby if he wanted to. He’s hormonal as shit.”
“What?”
“I said he’s hormonal . . .”
“Not that,” she brusquely cuts me off. “You’re camping right now? With who?”
Mason moves on to the next post, securing it down with a spike. I spin around and face the trees.
“Mason,” I murmur, playing with the hem of my shirt.
Juls inhales a sharp breath. “Oh, really? The hot Australian from the bar,” she states, her voice lifting with her obvious approval of this development. “Mm. He was really nice. Are you still seeing him? I figured that would be done by now.”
I move as far away from the tent as I can get without stepping into the woods. I lower my voice to a stern whisper. “I’m not seeing him like that. We’re just hanging out, okay? It’s not a big deal.”
“Just hanging out doing what, Brooke? Dating? Being in a relationship?”
“Shut up,” I snap. “And stop grinning like an idiot. I can totally hear it in your voice.”
“Look at you,” she laughs. “First sign of being in love is denial. Welcome to the club, sis.”
“Oh, my God,” I groan, rubbing my forehead. “I’m hanging up.”
“Wait! Are we still on for dinner next week?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good. Jake and Izzy miss their favorite aunt. You need to come over more.”
“Fine. I gotta go.”
My shoulders ache with tension. Why did I even answer this call? Juls is always giving me grief.