“No. I just … felt you, and I got excited.” Then she pushed me back. “But that’s enough.”
Inwardly groaning, I held up my hands and backed up. “Sorry.”
We looked at each other under the darkening sky, our skin blanketed with goosebumps. “We’re not kids anymore,” she said softly. “We have to be mature and think about the bigger picture. The long-term success of Brown Eyed Girl is more important than short-term gratification, right?”
“Right,” I said. “But in the future, we should definitely not hold business meetings in our bathing suits. Your body is killing me.”
She folded her arms over her chest and gave me a sly grin, her eyes half-shut. “Good.”
We each collected some water, purified it, and cleaned up. I gave Chloe the privacy of the tent while I took advantage of the empty woods to strip naked and give myself a quick, frigid bath. I dressed in shorts and a clean T-shirt as fast as I could, trying not to become a mosquito feast, and used a little more clean water to brush my teeth. From the west, I heard the distant roll of thunder, which surprised me. I hadn’t seen any storms on the radar.
I called out to Chloe. “Can I come in?”
“Yes.” She unzipped the tent. “I just want to brush my teeth, but I’ll do it out there. Was that thunder?”
“Yeah. A summer storm must have popped up.” I saw the worried look on her face. “But probably just a small one.”
We switched places, and she was gone for only a minute or two before hustling back inside. “I saw some lightning. You’re sure we’ll be okay in here if it storms?”
“Positive,” I told her, trying not to dwell on the fact that she didn’t appear to be wearing shorts beneath her large T-shirt. “But let’s move all our stuff inside. We’ll have a little less room for sleeping, but we don’t want wet gear.” We gathered everything up and got it inside the tent just as the first fat raindrops began to fall. The thunder grew louder.
“It’s so dark all of a sudden,” she said nervously. “Did you pack a light?”
I pulled a small LED lantern from my pack and switched it on, setting it in one corner of the tent. “There. Better?”
“Yes.”
“I’d forgotten you were afraid of the dark,” I teased, tossing my flip-flops aside.
“I’m not afraid,” she said, tucking hers behind her pack. “I just don’t like it. Same way you don’t like ketchup.”
“Ketchup is disgusting. The dark is fun.”
“I just like knowing there’s light if I need it. Especially out here in the middle of the woods. And with a storm coming.”
“Don’t worry, Dimples. I’ll protect you from anything threatening.” I dug out my flask from my bag and handed it to her.
“And who’s going to protect me from you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as she uncapped the flask and lifted it to her lips.
“Does that mean you didn’t pack the frying pan?”
“I must have forgotten.” She narrowed her eyes and handed the flask back to me. “But don’t think that means you can mess with me tonight. You promised.”
“That’s true. I did.”
“And you said I could trust you.”
“You can.” After another sip, I gave the bourbon back to her. “So tell me all your secrets.”
She giggled and took another sip. “No way. You forget, I know you.”
“Then let’s play a game. Truth or dare.”
Pausing with the flask halfway to her lips, she gave me a disapproving look. “Not doing that either. You’ll dare me to take off my clothes or something.”
“I swear to God, I will be a perfect gentleman.” As rain began to pelt the outside of the tent, I lay down on my side atop my sleeping bag, propped on one elbow. “But we can take out the dare part of it, and just ask each other questions. You can start.”
She took another sip of bourbon. “Shouldn’t we talk about business?”
“I’m giving us the night off.” Outside, the thunder rumbled loudly. “Go ahead.”
“Hmm.” She stared at the flask and swirled it around. “If you could change something about yourself, what would it be?”
I thought for a moment. “I wish I could see the future.”
She gave me an exasperated look. “Oliver. That’s not how you’re supposed to answer that question.”
“Okay, fine.” I exhaled and gave it ten more seconds. “I’m working on being more responsible. More mature.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I think a lot of the mistakes I’ve made in my life are because I’ve never really thought long-term about anything. I made every decision based on how I felt in the moment.” I frowned. “Unlike Hughie, who did everything right from the start.”
She handed the flask back to me. “I get that. I used to feel that way about my older sisters. Like the three of them had all been these perfect angels, and I was born with horns on my head. My parents never knew what to make of me.” She gathered her damp hair over one shoulder. “After a while, I think I just acted out because it was expected of me. It was what set me apart.”
I nodded. “Okay, my turn. Let me think. What do you want most in life?”
“What do I want most? Hmm.” She played with the frayed hem of her T-shirt. “I want to prove myself. I don’t just want to take over the family business and run it like he would. I want to make my own mark. Like with our distillery.”
I loved that she called it our distillery. “I have no doubt you can do all those things. Do you doubt yourself?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
“Well, it never shows.”
Her cheeks grew a little pink in the soft light. “Thanks.”
“So those are your professional goals. What about personal goals? Do you want a family?”
She inhaled and exhaled. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. I guess I’ve just never come to any conclusions, and I’ve never met anyone I was dying to have kids with, so …” She shrugged. “It’s never really been at the top of my list. What about you?”
We traded the flask again. “I’ve always assumed I would get married and have kids. In my family, it’s just what you do when you get to be a certain age. It’s tradition.”
She nodded. “Tradition seems really important in your family.”
“It is. Especially to my grandmother, and she’s got a lot of influence.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she still controls the money.”
“Really? I thought you inherited your money when you turned twenty-five. I saw you in Chicago right after that, and I remember you saying you’d just gotten access to it.”
I tipped back some bourbon. “I did inherit a portion of my trust after grad school, but the Pemberton family fortune is still controlled by Gran. And our trusts were set up in a way that they sort of trickle into our names as we get older and hit certain milestones.”
“So what are the milestones?”