Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research (14 page)

★★★

After a very short engagement, Julie stood with her husband greeting and accepting congratulations from those who witnessed their wedding. To say she was excited was an understatement, and it showed in her smiling face.

"Guess it's a good thing I didn't kill you with the whiskey bottle, sis." Bo laughed as he and his guide dog, Max, made their way toward them.

"Your aim isn't that great." Julie laughed, then hugged Bo tight.

"Congrats to you guys." Bo and Clay shared a hug. "I'll try not to be underfoot too much."

"Oh, and what fun would that be?" Julie laughed. "The only thing changing is me living here now. You better not change a thing, Bo Marshall."

"You'll regret you ever said that." Bo laughed loudly as he turned, walking away with Max leading him.

"You know, you probably will regret saying that." Clay grinned down at her.

"That's okay, I always wanted a brother." Julie watched as Max led Bo straight to Jessica and Diesel. "You think we might be planning another wedding?"

"Between Max and Diesel?" Clay replied thoughtfully, then laughed. "Who in the hell would name a female dog Max?"

"It's probably short for Maxine." Julie glanced around with a satisfied smile. The wedding had been small. Only a few close friends had been invited. The reception was a little larger, which was fine. "And I meant Bo and Jessica. My sister is being tight-lipped about their relationship, but she seems pretty taken with your brother."

"Yeah, well we Marshall men are pretty irresistible," he teased with a wink.

"Oh, is that so." She pinched his arm then laughed when he picked her up. "Is this reception stuff over yet? I'm ready to make you my wife in all ways."

"I think we still need to cut the cake and—" He stopped her with a kiss. "But I think that can wait for a little while."

"Wait here." Clay set her down before walking away quickly. He looked back as he continued to leave. "Don't move."

Julie watched him go, wondering what in the world he was doing. A few people came up to congratulate her, and as she talked she heard pounding. Looking over, she saw Clay on his horse heading her way. Everyone around her moved, but she held her ground with a large grin.

Clay stopped beside her and held out his hand. With tears shining in her eyes, she happily grasped it. He pulled her up, wedding dress and all, placing her across his lap. She heard the gasps and whispers, but ignored everyone except the man who had stolen her heart so many years ago.

"You want to go for a ride, Mrs. Marshall?" he asked with a wink.

"Always," she replied, with a laugh that made everyone who heard it smile.

About Teresa Gabelman

Teresa Gabelman is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of the Protectors series. When not writing about sexy alpha vampires and the women who drive them crazy she can be found on a lake with a fishing pole/Kindle, at a MMA event or spending a fun evening with family.

Being a full-time writer has allowed Teresa to connect more with readers, which is what she loves most about writing. If you find the time, she would love to hear from you!

Website:
www.teresagabelman.com
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/Teresa-Gabelman-191553587598342

Also by Teresa Gabelman

Protectors

#1 Damon

#2 Jared

#3 Duncan

#4 Sid

#5 Adam

#6 Slade

#7 A Warrior Wedding

#8 Jax

Lee County Wolves

#1 Forbidden Hunger

Kiss, Interrupted by S.R. Grey

Chapter One

A Splashy Beginning

Thwack!

And with that annoying sound, the back of my T-shirt was suddenly soaked through. It was not an altogether unwelcome development, due to the heat level of a day that felt like the devil himself had delivered from hell.

Heat notwithstanding, I was still less than thrilled to have been targeted by Camp Glen Hollow's water balloon assailant, Seth Darling, a kid who was turning out to be anything but darling.

It was tough enough for me already, feeling like an outsider as I did.

And to add insult to injury, I was a soggy mess of an outsider.

The rest of the camp counselors, all of whom had known each other quite well since, like, grade school or something, got along splendidly.

Then there was me. Brooks Happ, new girl in town, first-time counselor, and a chick trying hard to come out of the carefully crafted shell she'd grown comfortable residing in.

Dammit, I was determined not to piss away the last of the summer days before I had to leave for college. Living life like a hermit, the way I had throughout the last eighteen years, was over.

Still, hoping to live a certain way and pulling it off were two different stories.

As water seeped through the thin cotton of my camp-issued tee, trickling down to my shorts-clad ass, I cursed my well-meaning father.

Thanks, Dad, for encouraging me to step outside my comfort zone
. I didn't even like the outdoors, for heaven's sake. And I was known to turn into a blathering fool in social situations. Awkward City, thou art my home. And my destiny, I suspected, over the next two weeks.    

I stood there in the middle of the trail, reevaluating my recent decisions. A part of me wanted to give up and go home, but Dad would be so disappointed.
Damn
. I hated the thought of disappointing the only parent who still cared for me. Mom was a non-factor these days. She'd taken off over a year ago—with the pool boy, no less—and had no more time for me.

I blame her for Dad's decision to leave Phoenix and move to this bum-fuck town in North Carolina. Life had become too embarrassing for him, in a city where so many people knew him. I watched with sorrow as my newscaster dad became the brunt of whispered jokes and lewd comments, most with the subtext of pool boys and cougars.

Thanks, Mom, for turning our lives into a bad cliché.

Well, I wasn't about to embrace another one—shy girl can't make it at camp and runs home to daddy.
Nope, no way, not me
. This was my chance to become a different person, one more open and outgoing. The complete opposite of whom I'd been for, like, ever. 

I knew what I needed—a pep talk from the peppiest person I knew, Lacey Kain.

Lacey happened to be the one—and only—person whom I'd hit it off with at camp thus far. Though, in my defense, it had been only two days since we'd all arrived. In any case, I wanted to talk to Lacey, fellow counselor at this godforsaken woodsy prison.

Er, I mean, great place for a teenager to work while helping others, specifically kids.

I had met Lacey the first day of camp at orientation. We clicked right away, something I'd heard about but never experienced. Maybe it was the cool, misty morning air that had me feeling more alert than usual when I met her.
I am so not a morning person
. But that morning I was feeling rather lively, and I made a point of introducing myself right away.

Lacey had nodded a greeting as she stood there shivering next to me. Both of us had dutifully dressed in the bright green Camp Glen Hollow tees and matching running shorts that had been sent to us a week before orientation. Everyone else that frosty morning had wisely donned jeans and sweatshirts.

"Crap, is it always this cold in the morning?" I had asked Lacey, quietly, so as not to incur the wrath of the seemingly no-nonsense camp director who was orientating us.

"Uh-huh." Lacey bounced up and down on her Chuck-clad toes, her long, teal-streaked blonde waves bouncing right along with her. "I knew it'd be freezing," she went on. "It was stupid to wear this outfit. It was cold
every
morning last summer, when my brother and I worked here."

I nodded to the other counselors. "So, why aren't you dressed like them?"

One person clad in warmer attire was a cute skater-looking boy named Tim. He couldn't keep his piercing blue eyes off my new friend Lacey, which was kind of adorable. There was another guy as well—Mike. He was with a girl named Ginny, who was leaning against and snuggling up to him. Mike and Ginny were a couple. I didn't deduce that from all the leaning and snuggling. It was their sickly cute sweatshirts proclaiming
I'm with Mike
, and
I'm with Ginny
, that had given that tidbit away.

Lacey's response to my question refocused my attention. "I would have dressed like everyone else," she was saying. "Or worn a hoodie, at least. But my stupid brother wanted to skip orientation."

"What's that have to do with anything?" I wondered aloud.

Lacey shrugged. "One of us has to play by the rules when Sebastian gets up to his antics. Wearing regulation garb is my concession to keep us in good graces with the brass."

She nodded to the camp director.

"Hmm," I murmured. Ah yes, the one notable absence that fine morning—Sebastian Kain.

"I do remember seeing his name on the roster," I mused.

I wondered why the guy would so blatantly bail on the first mandatory meeting.

"Yep,"—Lacey nodded—"he'll show up eventually. Sebastian just does things according to his own schedule."

A rebel, I kind of liked that. This Sebastian sounded so unlike me. I was Miss Rule-Abider Extraordinaire.

But I was done with that, right?

Just then Shirley, the no-nonsense director, asked Lacey where her brother was.

"Sleeping in," Lacey replied.

Her accompanying shrug had a what-can-you-do-about-it
quality. "You know how Sebastian is."   

I expected Shirley to have a fit. She seemed the take-no-prisoners type, what with her bulldog chops and grim scowl.

But, to my surprise, she actually smiled. "That's fine, dear. I'm sure Sebastian knows all the rules by now, anyway."

What? Are you kidding me? Talk about special treatment!

I was starting to kind of dislike this brother of Lacey's, even though I'd not yet laid eyes on him.

That sentiment deepened when he failed to show at camp the next day.

The problem was we needed him. Things had gotten extremely busy. The campers had arrived, all thirty of them. And that rather rambunctious crew of ten-to-twelve-year-olds outnumbered us six to one.

Trust me, it showed.

Counselors were assigned to color-coded groups of five kids each, but already Lacey was picking up the slack for her absentee brother. You know, Mr. Special Treatment himself. And maybe, just maybe, if Sebastian had been in attendance like he was supposed to have been, I wouldn't now be standing in the middle of a trail, dripping, having been the target of some bratty kid, a kid from
Sebastian's
group, incidentally.

I spun toward the main cabin, a spacious headquarters the counselors used as a meeting spot and a place to chill. I had a feeling Lacey would be there since I hadn't seen her in a while.

But my intentions were derailed when I heard a branch cracking off to my right.

Aha!

That's when I caught sight of the kid who had become the bane of my existence throughout the last thirty-six hours—Seth Darling.

The little brat ducked behind a clump of thick bushes, but he was giggling with entirely too much enthusiasm, leading me to conclude he was the lone water balloon assailant.

"Oh, please, let there be thorns in those bushes," I mumbled to myself as I trekked away.

Seth was part of the purple group of kids—the ones assigned to Sebastian, as established. But until Mr. Special Treatment deigned to grace us with his presence, the purple group would be working with Lacey's green group of kids. And that was just too many kids for Lacey to keep up with.

Hell, Seth was a handful all on his own.

Seth Darling—oh, how I'd grown to hate his ironic last name—was making me question why I had ever signed up for such misery. I was a quiet person, an introvert in many ways.

But that's all supposed to change
, a little voice whispered.
Otherwise, how will you ever lose your kissing virginity?
 

That's right, don't laugh. I, Brooks Happ, had never been kissed.

See, high school for me was about studying hard to get into college. I had no time for boys. I had crushes, sure, but I never had the nerve to pursue any of them. And it seemed the couple of guys who had been brave enough to ask me out just weren't my type. They were shy, like me, and I knew it'd taken
all
their courage to ask me out on a date. I foresaw awkwardness galore ahead of my nerdy suitors if I ever accepted. For both of us. So I always politely declined.

Truth was, I needed a more aggressive guy. This no-kissing drought had to end. I'd been secretly hoping there'd be a cute boy at this camp to remedy my untouched-lips status, but my options seemed severely limited.