Till Summer Do Us Part(108)

“Hey, I thought I did a good job on the hair.”

He shakes his head. “Terrible, Pips. Real bad. The only redeeming quality about the entire thing is my lip ring.”

I sit taller, because I thought the same thing. I smirk and say, “I did do a good job on the lip ring, didn’t I?”

“Very. Honestly, brings the whole thing together.”

“Yikes, who is that supposed to be?” Chad asks from behind me.

I look over my shoulder and stare up at him. “Your mother. Did I not capture her correctly?”

His face falls flat, and Wilder lets out a bark of a laugh while I sit there stunned, because where the hell did that come from? I don’t think I’ve ever been that quick on my feet.

Ever.

Yet I oddly feel really proud.

“Cute,” Chad says, moving away from me.

“Let me know her address so I can send it to her.”

He ignores me and walks over to where his wife is sitting while Wilder still laughs, trying to catch his breath.

“Oh fuck, that was good. Did you see the look on his smarmy face? Shit.” He wipes under his eyes. “I think you’re finally coming into your own, Scottie.”

I smile. Yeah, I think I am.





Chapter Twenty-Five





WILDER

“Welcome to our evening activities,” Sanders says as he struts around in a pair of basketball shorts and a construction vest with nothing underneath.

It’s a look, that’s for sure.

Scottie’s standing next to me, a smile on her face, looking happier than I’ve ever seen her. And it makes me fucking happy.

Ecstatic.

I remember the day I met her—she was worried, unsure, desperate to just make an impression and then get the hell out of the therapy session. Even when we first arrived at the camp, you could see there was something hanging over her. Something that was tamping down her joy, her energy.

But now…now she’s smiling. She exudes joy. She has an essence about her that’s addicting. And today has been no exception.

To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. From the complicated tandem bike ride to the ice cream to the lakeside blow job to the picnic and cloud watching, it’s been a day that I know I will never forget. And it’s not the activities that made this day special, it’s her reaction to the activities. It’s the innocence and the amusement in her expression that I will remember, because she’s come out of her shell.

Not to sound like a corny fuck, but she’s blossomed right in front of my eyes, and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.

“Tonight we will be mixing drinks, but not just any kind of drink. I want it to be a drink that represents you as a couple. I want you to think long and hard about your relationship, your journey, and morph that into a cocktail. Then we’ll be handing out the drinks to our judges, and they’ll pick a winner based on taste and creativity. As always, our winners will get a prize, and trust me, you’re really going to want to win this one.”

I lean into Scottie and say, “Hear that? A prize. A really good prize. Want to go three for three?”

“I don’t think we even have an option. We need to know what’s going to be in that basket.”

“That’s my girl,” I say, pulling her into my side.

“Please review the ingredients on the menu in front of you, pull your ideas together, and when you’re done, bring your tumbler up to the bar, tell our bartender the ingredients, mix them, and then set your drinks in front of the judges’ table. It will be a blind taste test, so the judges are hiding at the moment. Don’t forget to name your drink. Good luck.”

Okay, this could be fun.

I pick up the menu in front of us and say, “Any ideas?”

“Well, we have to pick something that represents us, but we also want to make it good. So we can’t be putting lager and Fireball together.”

“I mean, if you want to grow hair on the judges’ chests, we could do that.”

“I don’t think it’s recommended,” she says on a laugh.

“Yeah, probably not. Okay, well, let’s pick an alcohol base and work around that.”

Chad and his wife already head up to the bar, clearly ready to win as they lean over, hiding whatever the bartender is pouring in their tumbler. Seems premature—they didn’t want to think it over at all? Just heading right on up there?

“Look at those overachievers. Bet they’re doing something unimaginative like…Sex on the Beach,” I say.

“Or Bloody Nipples.”

I pause and turn toward Scottie. “What the fuck is Bloody Nipples?”

“Uh, is that what it’s called?”

“I sure as fuck hope not.”

She laughs and then says, “Wait, it’s a Slippery Nipple.”

“Oh, okay, yes. Jesus. Not Bloody Nipples, Scottie.”

“Yeah, that didn’t sound right. Bloody Nipples is definitely not something I would want to put in my mouth.”

“Slippery nipples though…” I nudge her shoulder.

“You know what, that’s something we should add to the bucket list.”

“Slippery nipples?” I ask.