Читать книгу Forever Flint - Barbara Boswell, Barbara Boswell - Страница 8

Two

“Earlier this evening, I got the key to your motel room and put some of your new Paradise Outdoors gear in there,” Flint said at last, breaking the silence between them.

It was rare for him to take the lead in making conversation, but he felt that need now. Ashlinn’s presence was galvanizing.

“You have the key to my room?”

He could guess what she must think. “I didn’t keep it, of course. I turned it back in at the desk,” he assured her hastily.

Suddenly a vivid erotic fantasy flashed to mind, featuring himself slipping the key into the lock and entering her room where she waited for him in the darkness, lying on the bed wearing nothing but a drowsy, welcoming smile.

Flint coughed and gave his head a quick shake. Luckily, his mind cleared.

“You’ll have to repack, using our extended-journey backpack.” It was a command, not a suggestion.

“You actually expect me to take two weeks’ worth of clothes and supplies from my two full-size suitcases and stuff it all into a backpack?” Ashlinn sounded edgy and incredulous.

But she was glad they were talking again. Sitting in total silence while the car whizzed along the interstate highway left her too much time to imagine what lay ahead. Already a nervous anticipation was building within her.

“Yes, I actually expect you to do that, Ashlinn.”

The sound of her name on his lips stunned her back into silence.

It was stupid to get so rattled because he’d simply called her by her own name, Ashlinn admonished herself. Except calling her by name made things between them seem personal.

And of course, there was nothing personal between them; there was absolutely nothing between them at all. This foolish crush she seemed to have developed on him was certainly one-sided and didn’t count. She’d better quash it fast, before she truly humiliated herself.

“Where will I keep my suitcases and the things left behind in them?” Ashlinn was pleased that her voice sounded crisp and efficient, no small feat when she still felt like a dazed schoolgirl. “Do I have the hotel room for the full two weeks?”

It seemed a possibility at this point. With Tour & Travel financing the entire expedition, further extravagance on Junior’s part wouldn’t surprise her at all.

“Junior isn’t that much of a spendthrift. Not when he’s not the recipient of his own largesse.”

Ashlinn looked over at Flint, startled. It was as if he’d read her mind.

They traded brief spontaneous smiles, then swiftly, rather guiltily, reset their frowns.

“You can leave the rest of your belongings in my office at company headquarters,” Flint said stiffly. “We’ll have to head there first tomorrow morning to get you fitted with hiking boots and some special socks and, uh,” he cleared his throat. “A few personal things the catalog carries, things that are specifically sized and designed for women”

“First? You don’t mean we’re going there before dawn, do you?”

“We have to. The other guys already have everything and will expect to leave on schedule. They arrived this afternoon, as Carmody advised everybody to do. You’re the only member of the group who insisted on taking a late flight in.”

“I didn’t insist. I was told the departure time and handed a ticket. And now I’ve got an assignment to complete, if I want to keep my job.”

She turned toward him. “Will you help me do that, Flint?”

It was the first time she’d said his name and the effect upon Flint was hot and instant. He shifted uncomfortably and hoped she wasn’t looking at his lap because his body wasn’t keeping any secret of his attraction to her. It responded reflexively, despite his attempt to will otherwise.

“I’ll—do what I can,” he mumbled, forbidding his eyes to look her way. He trained his gaze ahead, on the monotonous flow of traffic on the interstate.

“Good. Thank you. The first thing we need is to bring some other women along on this trip,” Ashlinn said briskly.

Flint tensed. She’d wrung a simple note of compliance from him, and already she was giving orders. She thought all she had to do was to whisper his name and he’d melt like a snowball in July. Well, Ashlinn Carey was in for a surprise. His sobriquet, “Iceman,” had been deservedly earned. He didn’t melt for anyone.

“More women? You want to make this trip into some kind of Beach Blanket Black Hills?” His voice lowered, his tone both cold and fierce. “Forget it, Ashlinn.”

This time she wasn’t charmed by his use of her name. “Do you really think I’m advocating some kind of Naked Singles romp in the great outdoors? Ha, you wish! All I mean is that we need more women on this trip to curb the bouts of macho male bonding and competition. You know they’re bound to occur.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” snapped Flint. “I wonder if you do.”

“I certainly do. I know that one woman among five men is practically a nonentity. The five of you will forge ahead without me, you’ll do things I simply can’t. I know how guys act, I have an older brother and two stepbrothers. And I also know that having a balanced number of women in a group sets a different tone. The presence of women provides certain guidelines and constraints and limits to the. . .”

“You’re imparting the viewpoint of women-as-the-old-ball-and-chain? Interesting.”

“Of course, should you guys still insist on jumping off cliffs or swimming in hypothermia-inducing water, at least I’ll have some company picking berries while you’re doing it.”

Flint smirked. “Who would have thought a sophisticated big-city lady editor would attest to the stereotypes of action-oriented, risk-taking male and passive berry-picking female?”

“Who would have thought?” she echoed, not rising to the bait. “Will you call some women you know and ask them to come with us?”

“We leave tomorrow at dawn, remember? That’s not enough notice. Nobody can just pick up and leave so quickly.”

“You could at least try. Call your girlfriend. Won’t she jump at the chance to spend the next two weeks with you?”

Ashlinn attempted to ignore the flush that suffused her face and spread throughout her whole body. She wasn’t fishing for information, she assured herself; she was merely confirming the inevitable. Odds were great that a man like Flint Paradise—handsome and successful—did have a girlfriend. Maybe several

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Flint said bluntly.

A swell of joy surged through her followed by a rush of embarrassment. If he were to guess. . .

Ashlinn shuddered. “Then call some of the women, uh, you date casually,” she strove to sound blasé.

“I don’t date,” Flint growled through his teeth. “I don’t have the time for it. My work is my life. Paradise Outdoors is all I want and need. Is that so difficult to understand?”

Her eyes widened. “I get the feeling you’ve had this conversation before—with somebody who puts you very much on the defensive.”

“I’m not on the defen—” he abruptly paused, then breathed a sigh. “Okay, maybe I am, a little.”

“Who nags you about working too much and too hard?” Ashlinn pressed, curious. “Your parents? Mine accuse me of being too dedicated to my career. They have a ‘you’re letting life pass you by’ speech that I can recite word for word. I hear it almost every Sunday during our weekly phone calls.”

“My folks are both dead, so no, they don’t worry about my lack of a social life.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. Has to be a sister, then I know how sisters are, I have a younger one plus two stepsisters.”

“My sister is in her senior year in medical school, and she’s as devoted to her work as I am to mine No, Eva would never nag me, but my brother has been known to make some pointed comments about my priorities.”

“Brothers can be just as interfering as sisters,” Ashlinn conceded.

Flint angled a quick look at her.

A shaft of moonlight cast her delicate profile in relief. Stop it! he admonished himself Think of her as a customer, not a lovely desirable woman. Pretend she is Asher Carey and make trivial conversation. Become bored, immediately’

“You already mentioned a slew of brothers.” Listening to anyone drone on about their family normally had a narcotic effect upon him. Surely it would be no different with her, no matter how sexy she was. “How big is your family anyway?”

“Big. We’re a Brady Bunch-type clan. My mom had three kids when she married my stepdad, who had four.”

“Now there’s a prescription for disaster!” Flint exclaimed. Unfortunately, being startled and appalled was the antithesis of boredom.

Ashlinn looked at him in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Because it’s so obvious. Keep in mind the Bradys are fictional characters, Ashlinn. In real life. . .”

“Things worked out well,” Ashlinn cut in. “The seven of us are all grown up and on our own and the folks are happily retired in Florida. See, a fairy-tale ending.”

“I don’t like fairy tales,” Flint growled. “Never have. I can’t suspend the disbelief.”

“How about sociology, then? The Careys are a successful case of a modern blended family.”

“Even fairy tales are more believable than that.”

“You couldn’t be this negative on the subject unless you’ve had some personal involvement with it.” Her interest was piqued. “Were you married to a woman with kids who. . .”

“God, no” His invocation of the Almighty was heartfelt. “I have never been married, nor do I intend to be. The whole point of marriage is to have a family and I already have more family than I know what to do with. The last thing I need or want is any more relatives.”

His vehemence amused her. “Who’s the worst?”

“Are you taking about relatives?”

She nodded. “If my family were polled, I’m sure I’d win the title of The Worst One. I was an overly dramatic child and a sarcastic, bratty teen. I like to think I’ve improved as an adult, but I’m afraid that among my relatives, my reputation is set in cement.”

“Your family has yet to experience the worst,” Flint assured her. “My two half sisters hold the Worldwide Worst title. Of course, their late unlamented mother made Lucrezia Borgia look like a real sweetheart, so they come by it naturally, I suppose.”

“If their black-hearted mom wasn’t yours too, that means you shared the same father,” Ashlinn surmised easily.

“Yes, Ben Paradise.” Flint’s black eyes were hard. “A year after my mother’s death, Dad married Marcine, who spawned Camryn and Kaylin.”

“Sounds like you’re still holding a grudge against her for that.”

“Among other things. And after observing my father’s misery with Marcine, I have no desire to experience the gothic horror known as marriage first-hand.”

Ashlinn wasn’t sure if she ought to offer a counterargument. Emphasizing the success of her family seemed insensitive at best, boastful at worst, when Flint’s own fell into the dysfunctional category.

They both lapsed into a silence which soon grew oppressive to Ashlinn.

“Now that you’re all adults, do you ever see your half sisters?” she asked. She knew how easy it would be to sever family ties as an adult; she had to make a special effort to keep in touch with her own siblings and steps, who were scattered all over the country. She did it willingly. But then, she didn’t consider any of them to be satanic spawns. Hopefully, they no longer saw her as one.

“Camryn and Kaylin aren’t adults, they’re teenagers and live with my brother here in town.” His tone was dour. “So I see them.”

“They’re in Sioux Falls?” An idea, born of desperation, suddenly dawned on her. “We could ask them to come camping with us tomorrow!”

“Have you heard a word I said?” Flint was astounded. “Why in the world would I take those two hellions camping? I wouldn’t take them anywhere! I can barely make it through an occasional dinner at my brother’s home with them, let alone two full weeks of. . .”

“But we need more females on the trip, and you haven’t come up with anybody else. Anyway, chances are better for teens to be able to go somewhere at the last minute than for. . .”

“Absolutely not!” Flint cut in again. “If you knew Camryn and Kaylin, you would realize how truly terrible your idea really is.”

“Introduce me to them,” Ashlinn said boldly. “If they’re as bad as you say, then obviously, I won’t want them along. But if you’re harboring some kind of grudge against two perfectly normal kids just because you didn’t like their mother marrying your father, then I want them on the trip.”

“Lady, if you’re trying to infuriate me, you’ve succeeded beyond your wildest expectations”

“I’m beginning to believe I’m on the right track,” countered Ashlinn. “After all, they live with your brother. He must like them, so how awful can they be? Unless you can’t stand your brother, either?”

“I love my brother!” Flint declared with a fervor that touched her. “But unfortunately, he has an exaggerated sense of duty. In fact, Rafe is probably the most dutiful person on the planet. He took in the girls after their mother died three years ago and kept them, even though they’ve wreaked havoc on his life.”

“Hmm,” said Ashlinn.

“You don’t believe me?” Flint was indignant. “Okay, I’ll let you be the judge. I’ll take you to Rafe’s house and you can meet the girls. One minute in their company will have you convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that you don’t want to spend another one. They’re all night owls, so we can just drop in.”

His tone was so ominous that Ashlinn felt more than a little apprehensive. Did she really want to meet two bad seeds? She buoyed her courage by thinking of Junior, the boy boss. If she could endure working for him day after day, taking a few minutes to assess Flint’s allegedly demonic half sisters would be a breeze.

Flint was heartily regretting his rash challenge by the time he turned onto Deer Trail Lane, a tree-lined street in a well-tended housing development. Bringing Ashlinn here was stupid beyond imagining, but since he’d let her goad him into it, he could only blame himself. His jaw clenched.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Ashlinn remarked politely as they drove along the long street.

“My brother used to own half a duplex farther down this road, but he bought a single-family house a few months ago. Seems like he’s always working on the place. His latest project is to convert the garage into an extra room.”

Flint sighed wistfully, remembering better days, when Rafe had plenty of spare time to spend with him and Eva. Not anymore. It had been months since the three of them had gone out to dinner together or taken in a movie

“I’m assuming he got a bigger place because of the half sisters you can’t stand?” Ashlinn couldn’t resist mentioning the obvious.

“Not just for them,” Flint protested halfheartedly. “Rafe got married last Thanksgiving and his wife wanted more room too.” He pulled into the double driveway of a big two-story house. “In addition to the girls, they have two foster kids, little boys, Trent and Tony.”

“They’ve only been married for about eight months and they have four kids living with them?” Ashlinn was impressed. “Your brother sounds wonderful, a guy like my stepdad. It takes a very special kind of man to share his life and his wife, especially with kids who aren’t his own.”

“Yeah.” Flint, who truly loved and admired his brother, felt an ignoble rivalrous niggling as she rhapsodized about Rafe, which was odd, because he was always the one to lead the chorus of praise for Rafe. It was unnerving to consider the possibility that he wanted to hear Ashlinn rave about Flint Paradise. Unnerving and alarming as hell!

And worse was yet to come

Ashlinn was out of the car and halfway to the front door of the house when she noticed that Flint was lagging behind. Quite purposefully, it seemed to her.

“A prisoner on his way to the electric chair probably keeps the same pace you’re doing right now,” she observed dryly, pausing to wait for him to catch up to her.

“I probably should warn you.” Flint cleared his throat.

He arrived to stand beside her, not realizing how closely until their shoulders brushed. It was unlike him to invade someone’s personal space; he normally kept a definitive distance between himself and another. Not this time. When he turned slightly, the entire length of their arms were touching, and his hand skimmed hers.

But Ashlinn made no move away from him. “About what?” she murmured.

Flint remained where he was. He inhaled deeply, and the aroma of her shampoo, a tantalizing spicy scent, filled his nostrils. He fixed his eyes on her glossy black hair that looked so soft and silky it took considerable restraint to keep himself from touching it. Stroking it.

“I guess I should warn you that this might prove to be awkward in more ways than one.” His voice lowered. “You see, there is—something of a strain between Rafe’s wife, Holly, and me.”

Ashlinn looked up at him, her dark eyes illuminated in the bright porch-lights. “Is it her fault? Or yours?”

He was instantly annoyed. “If you’re looking to incriminate someone, don’t choose Holly. She isn’t to blame for anything. I’m the one at fault.” He strode toward the door, his head held high and proud.

“I wasn’t trying to incriminate anybody.” Ashlinn scurried after him. “I was just trying to get a better handle on the situation.”

They reached the small porch. She stumbled as her heel caught on the top step, and automatically, Flint reached out to catch hold of her waist, steadying her. Ashlinn laid her hands on his forearms, bracing herself.

She lifted her head and their eyes met. Their position was not unlike that of a couple on the verge of a kiss, in those first early uncertain seconds of contact before moving into each other’s arms.

Ashlinn’s heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears. “Thanks. I—I’ve been warned that the heels on these boots will end up killing me.”

“They aren’t at all practical.” Flint frowned his disapproval. “Paradise Outdoors would never carry such useless merchandise. Luckily, you’ll get a much better, functional pair of boots tomorrow.”

His fingers tightened briefly on the curve of her waist, then he dropped his hands and stepped away from her, out of touching range.

She could feel the phantom pressure of his hands on her. Ashlinn told herself she wasn’t disappointed, she was relieved he hadn’t tried to kiss her. She wouldn’t have allowed him, of course; after all, she hardly knew him.

But he hadn’t even tried . . .

“You were about to tell me about the—the strain between you and your sister-in-law,” she reminded him.

Her body was still pulsing with the urgency he’d roused—and left unslaked. Had he been affected by their proximity at all? she wondered. Since he’d half turned away from her, she couldn’t clearly observe him. Yet he seemed calm enough. She was the one whose breathing was closer to panting.

Ashlinn looked away from him, forcing herself to study the decorative grapevine wreath on the front door. Red, white and blue ribbons were woven through it, presumably in homage to last week’s Fourth of July holiday.

“About Holly . . .” Flint was struggling with his own urgency and control.

What better way to quell desire than to remember how wrong he’d been about Holly? If he were ever asked to cite his turnoffs, being wrong would head the list.

“I made the drastic mistake of jumping to all the wrong conclusions about Holly when my brother first got involved with her,” he said dolefully. “Unfortunately, I shared my opinions with Rafe and strongly advised him against marrying her.”

“Been there.” Ashlinn gave a rueful sigh. “Done that—twice. I zealously warned both my sister Courtney and my stepsister Michelle not to get involved with the men they ended up marrying.”

“Twice?” repeated Flint.

“I didn’t learn from my mistake the first time.” Ashlinn did not spare herself. “I didn’t let Courtney’s marital success keep me from insisting that Michelle was doomed to misery. I bet if Eva started dating someone seriously, you’d think long and hard about shoving your negative opinions down her throat.”

“Yes,” agreed Flint. “I certainly would.” He couldn’t envision himself making the same mistake twice.

A peculiar sense of relief was surging through him. His gross misjudgment of Holly continued to plague him, but hearing that Ashlinn had fallen prey to similar errors twice was oddly heartening.

“I told Rafe that Holly was a calculating manipulator,” he dared to confess.

Ashlinn remained unshocked. “I told Courtney and Michelle that Connor and Steve were insincere users, the kind of smooth operators who would dump them and break their hearts And both guys turned out to be model husbands and fathers, devoted to their wives and children My stepbrother said I was a sour pessimist and my own brother told me I was jealous of Courtney and Michelle.” She winced.

“Why don’t people appreciate good old-fashioned caution these days? Just try to exercise it, and others completely misunderstand your motives!” Flint was incensed on her behalf. “I’ve only spent a short tune with you, but I can certainly tell that you’re neither sour nor pessimistic.”

“Thanks,” murmured Ashlinn. “I’m not jealous of Courtney and Michelle either. Honest.”

“I believe you.” He took a deep breath. “I originally saw Holly as a schemer with an agenda and thought it was my brotherly obligation to tell Rafe what he was up against.”

“Let me guess what happened,” Ashlinn said wryly. “Holly turned out to be the ideal wife for your brother.”

“She turned out to be a saint!”

Ashlinn smiled at the hyperbole. “You have to be dead to be a saint, Flint, that’s the rule.”

“Well, Holly is a living saint,” Flint insisted. “She’s a doctor, a psychiatrist who’s established a solid practice and is respected and admired by the medical community here. Even more important, she’s made my brother happier than I’ve ever seen him. And she’s committed to those four impossible kids who aren’t even hers.”

“She does sound like a paragon. Seems like you and I have both proven how perceptive we are when it comes to love and romance,” Ashlinn said lightly. “Which is to say, not at all. We’re definitely better off dedicating our energy to our careers.”

“Yes.” Flint nodded his agreement. “But I have to admit that hearing you made the same mistake I did—twice—makes me feel less like a paranoid lunatic.”

Her dark eyes gleamed “If I’m not a sour jealous pessimist, you certainly aren’t a paranoid lunatic.”

They stared at each other, their expressions conveying mutual understanding, mutual acceptance. Both took an unconscious step closer.

“Eewww! Look who’s lurking around our house!” A piercing young voice sharply broke the aura of intimacy enveloping them. Seemingly from nowhere, a Jeep Cherokee had appeared, and emanating from it was that girlish voice of pure disdain.

Flint and Ashlinn jumped apart, almost to opposite ends of the small porch. The vehicle came to a screeching halt m the driveway, the doors were flung open, and two dark-haired girls jumped out.

Ashlinn didn’t have to ask who they were Flint’s face was dark as a thundercloud as he watched his two teenaged half sisters saunter to the door, their young faces surly as they stared from him to Ashlinn.

“Make sure you get your cash from him upfront, honey,” one girl addressed Ashlinn, her tone and her dark eyes insolent. “And I hope you’re up to date on your shots, especially your rabies shot.”

The other one snickered.

“You can apologize to Miss Carey right now, Camryn,” snapped Flint. “And you too, Kaylin.”

“’Cause you told us to?” Camryn laughed. “Yeah, right. That’ll happen.”

She brushed by Ashlinn and Flint and entered the house, her younger sister close on her heels.

Flint automatically moved to follow them inside. The door slammed shut.

“Well, now you’ve met them,” he growled. “Was I exaggerating?”

“I’ve never seen a door literally slammed in someone’s face before,” Ashlinn said uneasily. “Do they do that often?”

He didn’t bother to answer. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Ashlinn wasn’t about to argue. The teenagers couldn’t have made it more clear that she and Flint were unwelcome. And just like he’d said, taking them camping was out of the question. But just as the two turned to leave, the door opened again.

“The girls said you were here, Flint. With a, er, a friend.”

Ashlinn gaped at the man standing in the doorway, whose voice sounded exactly like Flint’s. He looked exactly like Flint, too.

She stared from one brother to the other. If she didn’t know that Flint was wearing the white shirt and khaki trousers, she wouldn’t have been able to distinguish him from the other man, who wore a pair of faded old jeans and no shirt at all. His bare bronze chest shone in the light.

“You’re twins!” she exclaimed, then grinned, unable not to. “I do have a remarkable grasp of the obvious, don’t I?”

“I’m Rafe Paradise.” He extended his hand to her to shake.

She took it and introduced herself while scrutinizing Rafe closely. The resemblance to Flint was uncanny, but on closer inspection, she noticed a few subtle differences. Rafe’s face was more open, his expression friendlier in comparison to Flint, who appeared more guarded and aloof. Rafe’s smiles came more easily; she already knew that Flint’s were rare.

Rare and thrilling, she mused, remembering the potent impact Flint’s smiles had upon her. But Flint was not smiling now.

“We were just leaving, Rafe,” Flint said tersely. “Sorry to have disturbed you this late.”

“It’s my fault,” Ashlinn interjected. “I was the one who insisted on coming.”

Rafe didn’t ask why. “Glad you’re here. Come in.” He cupped Ashlinn’s elbow and ushered her inside, giving her no choice but to accept his invitation. Which gave Flint no choice but to follow them both into the house.

“Holly, we have company,” Rafe called up the stairs.

“The evil twin’s out of his crypt again,” announced Camryn who stood on the stairway, eyeing Flint and Ashlinn. “And he brought the queen of Darkness with him.”

“Be quiet, Camryn!” snapped Flint.

“Camryn, go to your room.” Rafe heaved a sigh. “Now.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice!” Camryn flounced up the stairs.

“I know that little brat thinks she has a genetic right to insult me, but Ashlinn should not have to put up with it’” Flint, standing behind Ashlinn, placed a protective hand on her shoulder. His fingers tightened, drawing her back a little toward him.

“What’s going on?”

Ashlinn turned at the sound and was sure that the tall slim brunette gliding regally down the stairs just had to be Holly, Rafe’s wife. She studied the other woman. Flint had neglected to mention how beautiful his sister-in-law, the doctor, was.

Both Flint and Ashlinn stared at Holly, who was tying a knot in the navy silk belt that matched her robe. Her cheeks were flushed, her brown curls tousled. And then there was Rafe wearing only his—hastily pulled on?—jeans.

Ashlinn gulped. It did look as if they had intruded on a private moment between the couple “We’re so sorry to disturb you.”

Holly and Rafe exchanged quick glances. “We were just watching a movie on TV,” Holly said smoothly and introduced herself to Ashlinn.

“I guess you’re wondering why we’re here,” Flint spoke up. “Ashlinn wanted to know if Camryn and Kaylin could come along on the Paradise Outdoors camping expedition, the one Carmody set up before his skateboard accident.”

Rafe gaped, dumbfounded. “You want them to join you and your girlfriend on. . .”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Flint said vehemently, lifting his hand from Ashlinn’s shoulder as if he’d been scalded. He immediately moved to stand apart from her.

Ashlinn tried to ignore her discomfort. “Can the girls come along?”

“Did you know that Camryn and her friends taught Sam Carmody how to skateboard?” Rafe frowned pensively. “We didn’t like him hanging around with high-school kids and told her to stay away from him. Whether or not she listened is a. . .”

“The girls both have their jobs at the mall,” Holly inserted. “They really can’t leave on such short notice, Flint.”

“So you two are going camping together?” Rafe arched his brows, his expression speculative as he studied Flint and Ashlinn. “Should be an interesting trip. Will you be sharing a tent?” he added, his eyes gleaming, unable to hold back from a little brotherly ribbing.

“It wasn’t planned, it just worked out that way” Flint was immediately defensive. A flush stained his cheeks, turning his skin a deep golden bronze. “This is ridiculous” He snatched Ashlinn’s hand and pushed open the front door. “We’re out of here, right now!” He left the house, dragging Ashlinn along with him.

They got into the car and sped away from the house.

“It wasn’t planned, it just worked out that way?” Ashlinn repeated. Her heart began to pound, fast and loud. “Does that mean I’m actually supposed to share a tent with you?”

“You look panicked at the thought. Fearing for your virtue? Have you bought into Camryn’s evil twin accusations?”

“I’m not panicked and I don’t think you’re evil, but I’m not sharing a tent with you or anyone else. I want my own tent! Since Tour & Travel is paying the expenses, just bill them for an extra tent. Because I will not. . .”

“Relax. I don’t want to share a tent with you either. Asher Carey and I were assigned to share one, but Ms. Ashlinn Carey is definitely getting her own. The extra cost can come out of Junior’s lunch money.”

“You were only joking.” Ashlinn tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand was trembling. “I knew that.”

“No, you didn’t.” He was clearly relishing her overreaction. “And I warned you the Paradise clan wasn’t one big happy extended family like yours, but you insisted on meeting the girls. Well, I was right, wasn’t I?” Flint’s voice held an unmistakable ring of triumph.

“Are you one of those annoying types who always have to have the last word?”

“I’m not annoying, but yes, I’ve been told that I do like to have the last word,” he admitted, not at all offended by the charge.

“Ohhhh! These next two weeks are going to be interminable.” Ashlinn was vexed, but more with herself than with him. For there was an unwelcome excitement bubbling inside her that she couldn’t suppress.

“Interminable,” Flint agreed.

But his grim pronouncement was at odds with the slow smile playing across his face.