The Hometown Hoax (The Hoax Series) (7 page)

Chapter Seven

L
ogan took another slug of his beer then propped his feet up on the edge of the dock railing. This was the life. Peace, quiet, nature, and nothing to do but drink a beer and relax in the setting sun. Today had been a great day, the best he could remember having in years actually.

Usually his days consisted of running around from his apartment to the studio, then stopping to eat somewhere or hauling groceries home. It was a life filled with going all the time but rarely ever taking a moment to enjoy it. But here it was completely different. Of course, he knew everyone was in vacation mode and it wasn’t what real life was like, but people being on vacation was a change all on its own. People in the city didn’t take vacations often, and if they did, it was to somewhere flashy or noisy. They’d go somewhere there was always something going on, something to do, somewhere to be, needing to be constantly entertained. No one ever went somewhere to simply relax.

This was certainly a relaxing kind of vacation. He loved every second of it. Already today he’d worked out, gone on a firewood run, paddle boarded, played a few rounds of poker and was now waiting to eat a home-cooked dinner and start a bonfire later. Did life get any better than this? The fact that by the end of the year it could be over hit him in the gut with ferocity. He’d just gotten here, hadn’t even started his job in the school yet, and already he was dreading the thought of having to leave if things didn’t work out teaching or with his gym.

He’d never thought of himself in terms of where he lived making a difference to who he was. After living in a city forever and now seeing what it was like to live in a rural setting, there was no question he was happier here. If his term wasn’t extended at the school or if he couldn’t figure out a way to open a new training studio in town, he’d have no choice but to go back.

Or was there another choice?

He wasn’t qualified to do any other kind of work besides teaching or personal training, but surely he could get a job doing landscaping work or something else that would keep him moving. Something that would keep him in town even if he wasn’t doing his dream job. Would any job be fulfilling enough if it meant he could stay here and look at amazing sunsets like this all the time?

Oranges, pinks, and deep purples filled the sky from the surface of the lake to edge of the stars. Never had he seen a sunset like this before. With so much open sky in front of him, he didn’t know which section to look at first.

His gaze landed on a figure sitting in a folding lawn chair near the fire pit. Even in the darkening light, he knew it was Tessa, sketchbook on her lap and a charcoal pencil in her hand. She had been there since shortly after returning from the lake. Well, not that one specific spot exactly. She’d moved around. First on the dock where he now sat, then off in the woods on a fallen log that hadn’t looked comfortable, and finally siting by the fire that would soon be lit.

What was in that sketchbook of hers? Pictures, obviously, but of what? When she looked around this space that she seemed to simultaneously love and hate, what did she see that was worth immortalizing on paper? He wanted to commit every moment of his time here to memory, but this was all so new and unfamiliar to him. Did she feel the same way, wanting to commit the scenes to paper permanently even though she claimed she couldn’t wait to get away from here again? It didn’t seem to add up. Curiosity sent him into motion and he wandered over to her, sipping his beer along the way. Did she look at the sunset and think it was as amazing as he did? Or was it another boring end to a day in a small town to her?

He wasn’t exactly being sneaky, but he wasn’t loud or obvious either. When he neared her chair, almost close enough to see her current page, her head snapped up and her book flipped shut. The look she shot him said he was busted and guilty of spying.

Strangely, seeing how protective she was of her work actually made him feel guilty.

“What are you working on so hard over here?” he asked, taking a seat across from her and setting down his beer.

“Nothing.”

“Well, you’ve been working on nothing for hours.”

“Sketches.” She folded her hands on top of the book protectively.

“Oh good. That puts to rest the idea that you were doing origami.” Grabbing a few logs and some kindling, he started building up the fire pit.

“Why do you care so much what I was sketching?”

“I don’t. It’s called making polite conversation. That’s all.”

The kindling caught and he blew on the small flame, making it dance and grow. In a few minutes the larger logs smoldered and he could feel heat radiating out of the pit. Soon it would be warm and cozy and he was ready for another drink to enjoy fireside.

“I’m going in to grab another beer. You want anything?” he asked as he picked up his empty bottle. “Unless of course it’s none of my business what you’re drinking tonight and therefore couldn’t possibly consider getting it for you.”

“I’d love a glass of wine. Thank you.”

“Watch the fire while I’m gone, okay?”

“Sure,” she said standing and grabbing a long, skinny stick then gently poking at the fire.

When he returned a few minutes later, he handed her the glass of red wine. Waiting for him in his chair was her sketchbook, opened. He sat with it in his lap, taking in all the little details. This was more than a sketch. As he expected, it was a landscape of the cabin and the surrounding woods. She’d done an outstanding job of capturing the atmosphere of the area. The way the light twinkled off the lake and seeped through the branches of the trees, the small animals hiding in the ground cover and leaves, even the hint of fog rising off the surface of the water like it had this morning when he’d gone for his jog. The more he looked, the more details he noticed, including what looked to be the shape of a man, mid-stride, jogging in the woods.

“You did this whole thing when I went for my jog, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “It’s amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said, crouching at his side, looking at the sketch with him. “I’m sorry I was bitchy when you asked about my book. I don’t like to share my work, especially not until it’s finished, but I shouldn’t have expected you to know that. I could have told you that instead of being so rude.”

She looked so vulnerable and unsure of herself, but she had no reason to be. He wished he had that kind of talent to be protective of. “What made you decide to show me this one?”

She shrugged. “This one seemed finished. I’m sure there are things I could fix, but for a sketch, it’s not bad. Good enough to show you anyway. My best stuff is always in paint, not charcoal.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I wouldn’t be able to accomplish something like this if I had ten years to work on it and you probably whipped it up in ten minutes.”

“More like thirty, but who’s counting?” Her smile played lazily on her lips as she glanced up at him. In the darkness settling around them, her good looks took on a whole new quality. She wasn’t only beautiful on the outside, though there was no denying she could be a model, but there was so much more to her. Her eyes twinkled even more as the darkness dilated her pupils and the firelight reflected in them. Her skin looked golden and sun-kissed from their adventure on the lake. And with all the activity of the day, her hair had taken on an unruliness that sent it into a river of curls framing her face and falling to her shoulders in a way that made him long to tangle his fingers in its depths.

She’d opened up herself to him by showing him her sketchbook, a part of herself that was so personal and private that she didn’t share it with anyone. Knowing that she’d decided to share it with him touched him in ways he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever. When was the last time a woman had let him in, unguarded and vulnerable, to her deepest most sacred places?

Never.

Tessa had.

Somehow this girl who only yesterday had wanted to throttle him after their accident, and who’d done basically nothing but fight with him since, had suddenly given him a piece of herself. As tempting as it was to flip the page to see more, he carefully closed the book. If she wanted him to see other pictures, she’d show him herself.

Tessa was different.

Tessa challenged him every step of the way. She didn’t make anything easy and in fact, most of the time he suspected she was being difficult on purpose. Pushing him away, although why she would do that, he had no idea.

Even though he knew he stood to get nothing but friendship out of this week with her, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to learn more about her. He wanted to dig deeper, find out what made her tick. Part of him knew it was because then he could use it against her to push her buttons so she’d fight with him some more. He liked that fierce, determined, unyielding side of her. And when she fought with him, she got a fire in her eyes that showed him how much passion she had simmering inside. He longed to bring that out of her in any way he could, even if it meant engaging her in another argument. But arguing was the furthest thing from his mind now. Instead, he wished she didn’t have a boyfriend so he could pull her onto his lap and kiss her luscious-looking lips and not stop until they turned dark pink and plump and called out his name for more.

But she had a boyfriend.

So rather than act on his emotions, going with his gut, he did the only thing a stand-up kind of guy could do. He handed her sketchbook back and reached for his beer instead. It was an inadequate substitute for what he truly wanted.

“I bet sometime I’ll see one of your paintings hanging in a gallery somewhere.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice coming out as barely more than a whisper as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“Dinner’s ready,” Martha called as she walked up to the fire pit. In her arms she carried a platter of assorted hotdogs and sausages while Mary, Travis, and Sally held dishes of what looked like potato salad, pasta salad, and coleslaw.

His mouth watered at the sight. “I wish you’d let me help with this.” He wasn’t a great cook but he’d like to do something to earn his keep.

“Don’t worry. In this family we all take our turn cooking. You’ll get your chance before the week is out. But if you have a preference for what meal, feel free to speak up. Otherwise, I’ll give you one I’m tired of doing.”

“Sounds fair to me. I should probably warn you I’m not a great cook.”

“Neither am I, honey.” With that she handed him a metal stick and offered him the platter of assorted meats. “Sausage or hot dog. Your choice and done how you like it since you’re the one heating it up over the fire. Both are pre-cooked already.”

He accepted a sausage and skewered it, making sure it was secure and wouldn’t fall into the fire. “Thank you. Everything looks fantastic.”

When was the last time he’d cooked on an open campfire? Never. That wasn’t something people did in the city. As the flames licked the sausage, his gaze moved to where Tessa was sliding a hotdog onto her stick. Her touch looked gentle as she squeezed the wiener, guiding it down the shaft of the skewer. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. Maybe it was all the campfire smoke he’d been sucking in great gulps as he watched. Food was not a turn on to him, or it never had been…until now.

Now the sight of her paying such close attention to the hotdog made him jealous. He could practically imagine how it would feel to have her hands on his body, guiding him gently to where she wanted him.

“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” He coughed to clear his throat and his mind. How long had he’d been staring at her like that? Hopefully not long. “I was watching you handle that wiener.”

“Perhaps you should pay attention to your own wiener and stop worrying about the one in my hands.” She grinned and arched an eyebrow.

He wasn’t completely sure, but her tone sounded slightly different tonight, not the usual wanting to fight with him tone, more of a teasing, almost flirty tone. But there was no way she was flirting with him, not when she had that boyfriend back in the city.

Unless…

Today on the lake, he was sure her story about that guy’s job was different, and he was sure that she’d sounded nervous talking about him. In fact, she’d visibly relaxed when the subject had moved on to other things. Why would she act like that unless there was something suspicious about her story, something she didn’t want people to figure out?

“Fire. Dude. Earth to Logan.” Travis clapped his hands together, laughing when Logan finally pulled his eyes from Tessa.

“Shit!” he blurted.

His nicely secured sausage was currently on fire. He pulled the stick out of the pit and blew on the flames to put them out without splattering hot grease on himself or anyone else. When they were finally out, all that remained on his stick was a shriveled and blackened pathetic looking piece of meat.

“You may as well grab a new one,” Martha said.

“I think we should make him eat that one. Penance for not paying attention. Didn’t you always say we had to be extra careful around the fire, Dad?” Tessa asked, her voice sounding far more innocent than her expression said it should be.

She was a devious one. No wonder they referred to her as the rebel of the family. While everyone else was more than happy to welcome him into the fold, she took every opportunity to ride him, push his buttons, and spar with him. And so far he’d taken every opportunity she’d presented to encourage her behavior.

After today, he’d definitely encourage her to ride him tonight. Hard.

His balls tingled with the idea.

If only he could figure out what was up with that boyfriend situation for real because he couldn’t shake the notion there was more to the story.

“You’re right, Tessa-bear. I should eat this wiener since I’m the one that burned it. However, I like your mom’s idea better.” He retrieved a new sausage from the table. This time he kept it close enough to warm up but far enough from the flames that there was no chance for it to burn.

He watched her expression while they chatted. It seemed her face gave away more truth than her words.