Nancy and Ned weren't speaking.
The day before they'd all come down to Fox Lake for the camp, they'd had some big argument. Bess never could decipher anything other than "stupid jerk" from what Nancy muttered when she saw him. She was so angry that she couldn't talk about it.
And it was Nancy who had come up with the idea.
Each of them had to supervise a cabin of eight children. Ned, of course, had boys; the girls supervised girls. During the second night, when each cabin was still doing icebreaker and bonding activities, Nancy had tossed aside her leader's guide, which had suggested their next activity involve playing the "I'm going on a trip" memory game.
"Everyone got a black outfit?"
The next morning, the toilets nearest Ned's cabin were covered in peanut butter. And, consequently, ants.
After swimming the next day, all the girls including Nancy found their dresser drawers full of grasshoppers.
One night, after the girls had filled the guys' shoes with marshmallow creme, Nancy stole Ned's journal. The following night her diary was stolen, along with all the girls' swimsuits. Nancy's cabin retaliated by holding the guys' swimsuits hostage, and negotiated a return, but after the guys wore their returned swimsuits, whatever skin the suit had touched turned a bright purple.
George and Bess tried to keep their cabins out of the melee, but once they had some girls sneaking away to help Nancy's crew, they sent the warring sides a message.
Tug of war at high noon. Winner takes all, and an end to the prank war.
They were all tired from keeping vigil at night, waiting for the other team to strike. Nancy was still seething that Ned had reprogrammed her cell phone to ring with the theme from Star Wars, one of his favorite movies. Not that it mattered, since their cell phones received poor signal. The camp was in the middle of nowhere.
Nancy and Ned stood at the middle of the rope, just over a manmade mudhole created specifically for the occasion. Behind them the campers were arranged lightest to heaviest. The girls were glaring, the boys were leering, and Nancy's gaze was locked with Ned's.
"They might just set fire to each other," Bess remarked.
George stifled a chuckle and raised the checkered flag. "Go!"
No one had made any check for contraband material. The girls and boys were wearing cleats, and Nancy and Ned were each wearing rappelling gloves. The boys were more determined, but the girls were angry. Nancy reached out to feign a swipe at her fiancé. That was the reason Bess had not been too concerned; throughout the whole thing, Nancy hadn't taken off her engagement ring.
With a final tug the boys pulled Nancy and the girl in brown pigtails behind her down into the pond, and with a sudden jerk Nancy caught Ned off his feet and he fell in as well. The two of them still glared at each other, covered in mud, but Jasmine, the girl behind Nancy, started laughing uncontrollably.
Ned was the first to crack, and soon the two of them were hysterical, with the campers around them picking up mud and slinging it at each other.
So it was over.
--
During the three-day rest break between sessions, the four of them hung out in the mess hall. Lily, who had been a counselor two previous years, brought a dusty old jukebox out of storage, and they danced to songs that had been popular before they had even graduated high school. After a slow one Ned excused himself to take a phone call, and Nancy sat at their table and watched Bess dance with one of the male counselors, a guy named Angelo.
"Know anything about him?" Nancy nodded in his direction.
George shrugged her lean, tan shoulders. Both she and Ned had spent so many hours on the lake teaching sailing courses that they were nearly brown. "Not much," she replied. "Just that Bess thinks he's dreamy." George batted her eyelashes, then laughed as Bess stuck her tongue out at her.
The public address system crackled to life, and Nancy was paged to the front desk. "Wonder if Ned got in trouble," she mused, then walked out.
Fox Lake was familiar to her. The side with the camp less so, but it was all the same, really; the fresh scent of pine needles, grass crackling with heat under her feet, and then the lake a few hundred yards to her right, its sandy bank visible through the trees. During the break while they cleaned up and prepared for the new set of campers, the place was comparatively silent. Tomorrow it wouldn't be, with a massive prearranged water balloon fight, but for now they were just glad to have a break.
Ned was nodding at something he heard through the receiver, as she approached. The woman who had paged Nancy nodded in his direction, smiled at Nancy, then returned to her paperwork.
When he hung up the phone Ned lifted Nancy off the floor and into his arms. "I'll be at Emerson after Christmas," he said.
"What?" Nancy asked, confused.
"Dean Jarvis looked at my schedule, and what the team was saying they needed from me, and I'll be able to graduate on time. Besides, the season's practically over after winter break anyway." He smiled down at her.
"Oh, Ned, that's great," she said, reaching up to kiss him. "So you'll be back in school and I'll be back and..."
"Yeah," he finished for her, and kissed the tip of her nose. "They might need me a few weekends, but my teachers are fine with that. And this way I'll get to play baseball for Emerson."
--
He'll be home.
What they were doing was strictly forbidden, but Nancy was pretty sure they wouldn't be caught. The repercussions would not be as harsh, either, not while the counselors were the only ones at the camp. And he was her fiancé.
And besides, it wasn't like she was really sleeping with Ned. Except in the most literal sense.
She reached up and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. He was peaceful beside her, passed out from a long day cleaning out the sailboats and giving them fresh coats of paint. His skin was dark, under hers. She was wearing a cotton camisole and sleep shorts, and had her travel alarm set so she could leave his cabin still under cover of darkness.
He turned in his sleep and she set herself to memorizing every contour of his face in the grade between light and shadow, the curve of his cheek, the line of his mouth, the angle of his jaw. She ran her fingertips lightly down the side of his face and he made a soft noise.
Five months. It would feel like a lifetime, but she could do it, if he would be here. If she knew things would be like this again.
"Go to sleep," he whispered, reaching out for her, and she allowed herself to be drawn into the circle of his arms, her heart swelling at his closeness.
--
The next day, George and Nancy had grabbed some dessert from the frozen yogurt stand after a grueling few hours of shopping. George had come for a new pair of tennis shoes; Nancy had come for a new watch and had gone perilously close to reaching the limit on her father's gold card.
"So Ned's going to training camp this weekend?" George licked the back of her spoon.
"Yeah. This weekend and again in two more weeks." Nancy sighed, tracing a pattern on the table with the tip of her straw. "It's already taken all the charm he has to stay this long, and to only stay for weekends when they're practicing. After I'm gone I think he'll have to do double-time to make up for this."
"But at least you get to see him, right?"
"Yeah." She discarded the straw, then dragged her spoon through her slowly melting yogurt. "I've even snuck over and spent the night at his place a couple of times, but..."
"What?" George had temporarily abandoned her dessert and was looking with frank curiosity at Nancy.
"I can't believe I'll be gone. I can't believe that we're going to be apart this long."
"What are you worried about, Nan?" George propped her chin up on her hand. "He'll be here when you get back, don't worry. We'll keep him in line."
"Thanks." Nancy smiled softly. "You do that."
--
The strength with which she missed him was becoming embarrassing. And worrying.
He came back at three o'clock on the Monday morning, and a minute after she'd heard his shoes crunch on the gravel through her open window she was out, making her way quietly on the path between their cabins. Ned had his overnight bag on one shoulder, but when he saw her he dropped it and extended his arms.
"Ned," she breathed, putting her arms around him and holding him tight to her.
"Hey babe," he said into her hair. "I missed you."
"Missed you too," she managed.
"Want to come inside with me?"
The only sleep she managed to get was during the time after he had stopped sliding his fingers delicately over her skin, as though afraid she would pop and disintegrate into nothingness, after they had talked for hours about what he had done over the weekend and how they could possibly get through the time they were apart. But neither of them said it directly, neither of them mentioned it directly.
When she fell asleep it was with her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder, and a smile on her face.
--
"Nan."
She was walking over the fine carpet of pine needles on the ground, the sun weak and anemic through the trees overhead. She brushed her reddish-gold bangs off her forehead, grimacing at the sticky feel of her skin.
"Hey."
He smiled very slightly, but stayed quiet until he was close enough to touch her. "I missed you last night."
"I missed you too," she whispered. "I couldn't get away."
He took her hand in his. "Three more days."
"You have to go?" Her voice soft and pleading, she twined her arm around his and pressed close to his shoulder.
"It's not like I want to," he said, lacing his fingers between hers as they climbed over a fallen log. "But this is what we've chosen."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she murmured.
--
Ned had called her after practice. Nancy had talked to him with her heart in her mouth and he'd let it slip that the guys were planning to go out later and she had urged him to go with them. And then she had changed into her pajamas and sat cross-legged on her bed, rocking back and forth gently, staring at the dark rectangle of her window, thinking with a trembling warmth of all the reasons she shouldn't cry. Once she had forced the feeling back down, she turned on her fan and flipped off her lights and lay unblinking on her lonely narrow bed.
Just over two weeks was all they had left. Just over two weeks. The entire summer was gone.
She slept and the fan in her window blew the sound and smell of the thousand insects and the pines and the faint brackish scent of water from the lake. She didn't dream, she couldn't, not with the growing knot in her stomach, not with the thick bitter taste of tears rising in her throat.
And then she woke, red-gold hair in a tangle down her back and the thin strap of her white camisole sliding down her tanned shoulder, when the night outside was pitch black and the fan was whining its protest because it was on a chair, and her fan was on a chair because it wasn't in the window anymore, and the shadow above her bed resolved into the familiar profile of her fiancé. She drew in a breath, pushing herself up on her elbow, blue eyes rising to meet his.
"I couldn't stay away from you," he whispered, and gave her the faintest smile.
He smelled of aftershave and the cologne she had given him for Christmas one year and faintly of night. He had driven with the windows down. All the way back to her. His hand was resting just above her shoulder. He lowered his index finger ever so slightly and pressed his fingertip against her skin.
From the expression on his face she knew he felt the same quick, violently electric spark she did.
She rose to her knees and reached up to put her arms around him, her lips parting softly, holding him tight. "Ned," she breathed, her face pressed against his shirt.
He stroked her back a few times, soft sweeps of his palm over her skin, then reached for her chin and tilted it back. Her eyes gleamed and searched his.
He leaned down, his fingertips sliding against her scalp, his thumb tracing the soft line of her jaw, and then they were kissing and his mouth was warm against hers. His knee slid onto the bed, he was half-kneeling over her and she was speechless.
When they broke, panting for breath, she pulled her top over her head before her fears of his reaction could still her. She could feel the warmth radiating off his skin during the faintest hesitation before he shifted his weight fully to the bed and touched her again. His shoes thudded softly to the floor, one at a time, as he kicked them off. She rose to her knees, her thighs trembling, and pressed her forehead to his, eyes closed, breathing against his open mouth, and he tilted his head and he was kissing her again, urgent, possessive. She slid forward and their legs were tangled, she was straddling one doubled thigh as she slipped her fingertips along the hem of his shirt. He pulled his mouth from hers with an audible pop, pulled his shirt off in one smooth movement and she straddled him again, fully this time, her white cotton shorts against his jeans, her breasts against his chest as their mouths met again without hesitation or breath. He was making small soft noises, her thighs flush against his hips, his hands resting at the small of her back, and their kiss became simply the motionless touch of their wet swelled mouths.
"I love you," he told her, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against him.
"I love you too," she murmured, folding her arms and pulling him in tight to her. She rested her cheek against his, stroking his hair softly. "So, so much."
He held her until her pulse began to slow. Then he reached behind his back and unhooked her legs, and she pressed herself up on his shoulders and pulled back until she was merely kneeling over him, her blue eyes meeting his with the slightest question but there was so much trust in her gaze.
"What's wrong," she managed.
"I want you," he murmured in reply.
She reached up and drew his face down to hers, kissed him sweetly. When they broke apart she led his face to her shoulder, turned her head to whisper into his ear.
"I want this," she breathed. "But I'm afraid."
"What are you afraid of," he whispered. He pressed his lips softly against the line of her jaw.
"It's going to hurt," she whispered.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I swear I'm going to be so gentle, though."
"Are you still," she sipped in a long breath, "if we do this, when we wake up tomorrow, will you..."
He tried to pull back, to look at her, but she pulled him back down to her shoulder. He pushed himself back up and forced her gaze to his.
"Do you think this would make me love you any less?" he demanded, his mouth twitching softly into a smile. Then his mouth dropped and he looked at her. "Do you really want this?"
"Yeah," she whispered, stroking her fingertips down his cheek. "But I don't want this to change us."
"Nan, it's all right," he whispered. "Just relax."
"Love me," she whispered.
--
When she woke the next morning she stretched luxuriously and realized that she was alone in bed, naked, and someone was knocking on her door.
She grabbed a robe off the back of a chair and slipped it on. She remembered Ned waking her up when it was still dark and not the fading blue outside, laughing at something he'd done, his arms tangled around her. He'd told her something, but it was gone. As was he.
The knock sounded louder. "Nan?" George called.
Nancy pushed her hair out of her face and opened the door. George was standing there, jogging in place.
"Already woke up Bess?"
"Yeah, she threw a pillow at me." George grinned. "Up for a jog? Maybe we can go wake Nickerson... is he even back yet?"
"He's back." Nancy looked around her room. Her clothes were still in their tangle by the edge of the bed, but his were gone. She stood aside and gestured for George to follow her. "Give me a sec, I'll get dressed."
Nancy grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of loose black shorts and took them into the bathroom. When she dropped the robe she could still smell his scent on her skin. She was pulling her sports bra over her head when George called, "Want me to wake up Ned while you're getting dressed?"
Nancy smiled to herself slightly. "Nah," she said. "Let him sleep. He probably needs it after practice last night."
George set the pace and Nancy tried to keep at her side, wincing at the soreness of her inner thighs. "How'd you know he was back?" George asked. "Did he come by last night?"
"Yeah," Nancy admitted. She wiped a stray strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. "He ended up staying in my room last night."
"So you've already had a workout," George winked.
Nancy nodded, her lungs burning, straining for air. "Are my thighs gonna hurt like this after every time we have sex?"
George stumbled on a tree root but recovered her balance gracefully, all the while her eyes wide and staring at her friend. "You two had sex last night?"
"Yeah." George's pace slackened even more, and Nancy took advantage of it gratefully, her cheeks stained with exertion. "Twice."
George shook her head. "Was this--I mean, I know I'm out of the loop, but..."
"You're not that far out of it," Nancy replied. "You're even more in it right now than Bess is."
"You haven't told Bess yet?"
"Well, you kind of woke me up before I had a chance to send up some smoke signals," Nancy replied, laughing.
"That was the first time? How was it?" George shook her head. "Don't mind me, it's been a while."
"It's all right," Nancy waved her off. "It was good, he was good, the second time was better... if I'd known that was going to happen I definitely would have worn something sexier than a tank top and shorts."
"Sounds like you got him anyway," George laughed.
They made the circuit of the woods and doubled back to Nancy's cabin. She woke her campers for breakfast and walked into her room to grab a jacket.
The comforter had been thrown back over her bed in some semblance of order, and she saw two orange flowers on top. Ned had left a note on ragged-edged lined notebook paper in his slanting hand, telling her that he loved her. He himself was gone.
"He left you those?" George asked from the doorway.
Nancy nodded and touched one skin-soft petal gently. "He loves me," she whispered.
--
George and Bess were seated across the table from them. George was having trouble keeping a straight face.
Nancy put her tray down on the table. Glass of orange juice, indeterminate bread in a peeling paper cup, and an apple. She leaned over and stroked her hand over Ned's head, and when he turned to look up at her, his gaze soft, she put her mouth against his ear and whispered "Love you too."
He traced his fingertips over her arm and against her knuckles before she pulled away. "Morning," he said, his voice low and soft. His hair and skin were gleaming from a recent shower, as were hers; she'd barely had enough time to run a comb through her wet hair before she had run down to the cafeteria to meet them for breakfast.
Bess was giving George a surly raised eyebrow. "I should punch you for waking me up that early," she said. "When have I ever wanted to go running at five o'clock in the morning?"
"It's a gorgeous day," George replied. "Maybe we should try something new." She darted a loaded glance at Nancy, who coughed to hide the bubble of laughter in her throat.
Ned leaned over to her easily. "You told her, didn't you," he said, but his voice wasn't angry.
Nancy tried to give him a pleading expression as Bess grumbled, "And stop whispering, you two. Unless you're making plans for this weekend. I would love to get out of this place for a little while."
Ned's fingers folded around hers under the table, and she shot him a grateful look.
--
"So what exactly happened?" Nancy asked. She wrung out her hair, which dripped craters into the dirt.
Bess rolled her eyes and sighed. "Carissa started dating Reese."
Nancy choked back a laugh. "By 'dating' you mean they're going to the dance together."
Bess nodded, twisting the hem of her shirt between her hands, and it dripped onto the ground as well. "But Tiffany, who was in your boat, used to date Reese..."
"And that is why we're dripping wet right now," Nancy finished, sighing.
Nancy had thought it would be fun to take the girls out on one of the sailboats, but she hadn't known about the drama going on between their campers when she'd steered her boat over to Bess's to say hi. Before she could so much as get a word out, she'd been splashed in the face by an errant wave of lakewater. She and Bess were heading to the showers before dinner. Either that, or go looking like creatures from the black lagoon.
"So, Ned's back," Bess idly commented.
"Yeah," Nancy replied, looking down at the ground.
"Is he going to be here for the dance?" Bess asked.
Nancy nodded. "He's not going for training again until after I'm gone."
"Must be nice," Bess said.
Nancy looked over at Bess. "Something happened," she began.
Ten minutes later she and Bess were in adjacent shower stalls. Bess was still in shock. "Last night?" she asked again.
"Yes," Nancy called over the water as she shampooed her hair a second time. She closed her eyes.
"Why last night, though?" Bess asked wonderingly. "It's really sucky timing, since you're only going to be around two more weeks."
"What, you think we should have decided to do it at the beginning of the summer?"
"Was it a decision, or did it just happen?" Bess asked.
Nancy considered. "Both," she called back. "It was entirely unexpected."
Bess snapped her shower off, and Nancy did the same a minute later. Bess was smiling when Nancy emerged from the stall, wrapped in a towel. "I was going to ask if you wanted to go into town for a movie tonight, but I'm betting you have other plans."
"Can I take a raincheck?" Nancy asked, and Bess laughed.
--
After dinner Ned wasn't in his room or in the cabin with the guys, or in the cafeteria grabbing a packet of crackers to tide him over until breakfast, or at the vending machines, or in the main office on duty. Nancy circled back to her room to make sure he wasn't there either, but her fan was still in the window and Ned wasn't hiding in the shadows.
When she came down to the edge of the lake, the boats she and Bess had been in earlier were pulled up onto the beach. She could hear the faint noises of someone in one of them.
"Ned?" she called out.
The noise ceased, and a minute later he called out, "In here."
She walked over to him and rested her forearms on the edge of the boat. "I was looking for you."
He smiled. "I had to do this or else I'm going to be spending all day tomorrow repainting these, and I really don't want to have to do that."
"I'm sorry," she said. "We took some of the girls out in the boats today and they decided to have a water fight. They should be the ones out here cleaning up."
Ned stretched his arms up, arching his back, closing his eyes. He was shirtless. Nancy's mouth went dry at the sight of him. "I'm almost done," he said.
"Okay," Nancy managed. "Want to... hang out, after?"
Ned smiled at her. "What did you have in mind?"
They walked back hand in hand, the faintest smile on her face, the widest grin on his. He reached over and slung his arm around her waist, drawing her in close to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
"Do you mind if we go to my room?" he asked. "I need to get cleaned up."
"Sure," she told him, tilting her head up to look at him. He reached down and kissed her softly.
When they came back to his room he shut himself in the bathroom. She could hear the sink running as she walked around, touching things with the tips of her fingers. His bed was made, unevenly; he hadn't slept here since he'd left for practice. He opened his bathroom door, freshly shaved and smiling.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she replied, stepping in close to him. He kissed her, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt.
"You're still on the pill, right?" he managed once they parted and gasped for breath.
"Of course," she said, sliding her fingertips down his cheek. "I was even on it very early this morning."
"Good."
He tilted his face down to hers and kissed her, and she returned it softly, her heart pounding against his chest.
"Love you," she breathed.
"Love you," he replied.
--
"You know you're my husband now, right?" she murmured to him.
He had just pulled on a dirt-streaked t-shirt. In the gasping heat of late afternoon the female campers were peering at the hay bale set in the shade of one of the pine trees, taking turns aiming at it. Ned was taking a break while he had his campers bailing out of a controlled exercise. He'd put his shirt back on, which had caused a disappointed pang in Nancy's stomach. He looked very, very good with his shirt off.
A lightning grin crossed his tanned face. Nancy's arms were crossed over her chest, but a smile played at her lips. The dread at how fast their time together was passing was a distant memory at the euphoria she felt in his presence. "Yeah, but that means you're my wife," he said. "Biblically. Which means I'll be expecting a lot more sandwiches."
"You're a bottomless pit," she said, smacking his abs playfully. They were hard under her touch. She slipped her fingers between his and squeezed, trying to keep her mind on how Tammy was aiming.
"Yeah, well, you're no slouch either." He stroked his thumb slowly up the side of her hand, then leaned in close to her. "How many times last night?" he breathed against her ear.
She shivered, blushing faintly. "Oh like you didn't want it."
--
The following night they were in his room, sleeping naked, when a cry woke Ned. He looked around, disoriented, and a knock sounded from his door.
"Nan," he mumbled, shaking her shoulder gently. "Nan."
"Mmm," she replied, her brow furrowing. "What."
"Get in my closet," he said, as the knock became more frantic.
Her eyes opened wide, as she realized what he had said. She pulled on one of his shirts and scrambled over him, closing the closet door quietly behind her.
Ned jammed his legs into a pair of shorts and grabbed her underthings, shoving them under the blanket before he opened the door. "What's up?"
When Ned left his room he shut the door behind him, and Nancy took the opportunity to peer out, listening carefully. She was in her underthings, but nothing else, when Ned rushed back into the room.
"Cell phone," he grunted, and Nancy reached onto his desk and found it.
"What's up?" she asked quietly.
"I think he's having an asthma attack," Ned said. "I'm gonna call an ambulance. I'm sorry."
"It's okay." She kissed his cheek. "I'll see you later, all right?"
He smiled at her, phone to his ear. "Love you," he mouthed to her, wrapping an arm around her and holding her briefly, before releasing her.
She stole one of his towels and a wrapped bar of soap, walked to the bathhouse between their cabins, twisted her hair up and took a quick shower. In the dripping quiet afterward she wrapped herself in his towel and felt calm, even when the ambulance screamed just outside the cabin. She slipped into her shoes and walked back to her cabin, and had just finished dressing when the sun slipped into brilliant glory over the horizon.
--
It was the first night they had slept together without anything more happening. She had complained of an upset stomach just after dinner, but when he had followed her back to her room in the moonlight, she hadn't protested.
She had a hand flung over her eyes and had kicked all the sheets off, leaving her long legs gleaming next to his. She looked beautiful and she had stopped cringing every time he moved, shifting his weight on the bed.
He wished, for a fleeting moment, for their bed in the blue bedroom in Hannah's house, but even more than that, for a place they wouldn't be interrupted or overheard or watched. He would buy her a home, the most beautiful house, but there was no time, not now. Not in the few days left before they parted.
He'd never meant for this to happen, but now that it had, he didn't want to let her go. More than the sex, more than her breathing beside him in the narrow twin bed. If he hadn't signed that contract, he could have found a way to go with her, somehow, a way to make this tolerable. But he hadn't and it was too late.
She groaned beside him, her face drawing up.
"You okay? Want me to get you a washcloth or anything?"
She took her arm off her eyes and slipped her hand down to rest lightly against her stomach. "No," she managed. "Soda," she amended.
"I'll go get a can. Do you care what kind?"
"Dark," she murmured, drawing her legs up slightly, turning her face to his as he found his jeans. They had both stripped down to their underwear and gotten into bed, but he hadn't even asked if she wanted to try anything. Especially not with that look on her face.
"I'll be right back."
She attempted a smile up at him, her eyes closed, but when he turned back upon reaching the door her smile had dropped and she had a furrowed, almost concentrating look on her face.
--
"Ned."
He was on the floor, in a nest of her spare blankets, head cradled in his bent elbow. He tilted his head back to look at her.
"Nan?"
She raked her hair back from her face and murmured a soft reply. His heart clenched at the familiarity of the gesture, at remembering seeing it that night.
"Feeling any better?"
She moved her legs under the covers. "A little," she murmured. Her shirt had ridden up and she stroked the visible swath of skin over her abs gently. "I'm sorry," she said, closing her eyes. "You probably wanted..." She trailed off and made a soft expansive gesture.
Ned rolled onto his stomach and propped his head up on his folded arms. "Just because I've wanted it the entire last week," he teased her, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
"You're on the floor," she said softly, putting her arm back over her eyes.
"I thought you were hot enough without me being all over you," he said.
"Thanks for staying," she whispered. "You could have gone back to your room."
He reached out and ran his finger over the hand she had dangling over the side of the bed, and she flexed her fingers. "Anytime," he replied.
--
She was back at the archery field the next day, and he was out on the sailboats, watching her, the sun prickling on his scalp. Her hair was lighter, her tan deep, her teeth gleaming during her lightning-quick smiles. She had even recovered enough to join him on his morning jog.
A quiet brunette at least five years his junior had been making eyes at him during every sailing lesson he'd given, and the closer the end-of-session (and, in their case, end of the summer) dance had come, the more distracted she had seemed. She had even gone so far as to enlist her redheaded friend to approach Ned and make sure he'd be at the dance, but had made no further advances.
George was taking a fellow counselor to the dance ("Jason and I are just friends, this will be fun," was her refrain, despite Bess's teasing) and Bess had been determined to go stag before a mild bout of pleading from George led her to take Jason's cousin. The three couples were going into town for dinner before the dance.
Nancy's cabin was a flurry of activity. Girls in curlers, toothbrushes hanging out of their mouths, shouting about a lack of eyeliner or insufficient blush. Nancy herself was expertly applying lip liner to a girl in a black tube top and cutoff white jean shorts.
"Good?" she asked, as she capped the pencil.
The girl whipped a mirror in front of her face, scrutinized her lips, then smiled. "Yes. Thanks."
Nancy looked over at the center of hush Ned's presence had created. "Just a minute," she said, and her smile was meant for his eyes alone.
She came out half an hour later in a draped sparkling tank top he had never seen before, its scoop neck tracing a curve from her collarbone all the way down to the shadow of her cleavage. It hugged her curves, stretched taut over her flat stomach, and still managed to reveal an inch of flesh just above her skirt, showing her navel. A silver chain belt looped loosely around her slender waist, over a soft black flared cotton skirt that ended just below her knees. She wore strappy black sandals, smoky grey eyeshadow with the barest hint of color on her lips and cheeks, and her hair was a soft tousled mane down her nearly bare back.
He was wearing a muted green polo shirt layered over a white t-shirt, camel-colored khakis and thick brown shoes. She took him in and met his liquid brown eyes, her own darkly lined and sparkling.
"You wouldn't think less of me if I suggested we skip out tonight, would you?" he asked, his fingertips resting just on the bare skin of her back as he leaned toward her and brushed his lips over hers.
"No," she replied, reaching up to cup his cheek. "You look nice, too."
Resisting the urge to show up late, Nancy and Ned arrived at the steakhouse only a few minutes after Bess, George, and their dates. Between courses and drinks, Ned let his hand rest on her back.
When they came back to the camp, the talent show had just started. A trio of girls were lip-synching into hairbrushes when Ned felt a light tap on the arm that wasn't around Nancy, and a note was pushed between his fingers.
Samantha was asking for a dance.
Ned nudged Nancy and showed her the note, and she gave him a bemused look, reaching over to stroke the back of his neck. "Just save a few for me."
--
The look on Samantha's face was priceless when Ned came into the mess hall, the tables and chairs stowed away or against the walls to allow for dance space, and locked eyes with her. She blushed faintly, shrugging off a dark blue cardigan to reveal a powder-blue sundress that fell just to her knees.
"Be right back," Ned murmured to his fiancée, then walked over to offer Samantha his hand.
Bess sent her date to get them all some glasses of punch. "He's a sweetheart, isn't he."
Ned joined their hands, his other shifting lower to rest a comfortable distance between her shoulder and waist, as he danced with the younger girl.
"Yeah, he is," Nancy replied. With an effort she turned her eyes away. "How's your date?"
Bess shrugged. "Fun," she said, but didn't elaborate, so he wouldn't be asked for a second. "I actually kind of feel sad. The end of the summer."
"Yeah," Nancy said softly. "The end."
When Ned returned to Nancy, Samantha was glowing, whispering excitedly to her friends. "I think you made an impression," Nancy murmured, grinning.
"I do have that effect on people," Ned replied, keeping his mouth straight with a valiant effort. He reached out and took Nancy into his arms. "Now dance, senorita."
For the rest of the night they only had eyes for each other. Nancy clasped her hands behind his neck and he kept his hands resting at the small of her back as they swayed with the same slow rock to the music, despite any quickening of rhythm or beat. Occasionally she would raise her head, peer at him from beneath her darkened lashes, then give him one of her lightning-quick smiles. He ran his hand over the silk tangle of her hair.
"How long do we have to put in an appearance, again?"
"We could slip out for some air," she said. "If air is what you want."
Ned looked down for so long, smiling faintly, that Nancy finally hooked an index finger under his chin and tilted his face up until she could look into it. "I actually booked us a hotel room tonight."
Her mouth formed a perfect o of surprise. "You--tonight?"
"I wanted it to be special," he said.
She gazed at him wonderingly, then reached up and dashed a pair of tears from her eyes before they could ruin her mascara. "When did you want to leave?" she asked.
"As soon as you did."
--
She was crowing up into the night sky.
He drove her Mustang with the top down, the overnight bag she'd hastily packed in the backseat, her hair whipping around her face. She tilted her head back and laughed.
"You feeling okay?"
"Great," she replied, letting her fingers slip clumsily in the currents running along the sides of her car.
He parked her car around back, locked it securely with the top and windows up, then took her hand and walked her to the side door. They giggled in the corridors, and she took in the scent of it, dry and cool and sterile.
When they reached the door he stuck the keycard in the slot, but didn't withdraw it. "Nan..."
She looked up at him, the bag dangling from her right hand. "Is the key not working?"
"I just..." He reached over and lifted her into his arms, and she stifled a giggle with their faces inches apart.
"You're my wife now, right?"
She locked her eyes on his, then nodded slowly, taking her face in his hands. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "I'm yours."
"I love you," he whispered.
He could see her teeth gleam in her answering smile. "I know at least part of you does."
"All of me," he said. "You know that, don't you? I don't love you just because you let me do this..."
"I know," she said. "And I don't let you do it. I want you to. I've wanted you to for so damn long."
--
They had an entire bed to themselves, big enough for at least two other people, but she still found herself gravitating to him. She turned in a restless attempt to get comfortable and sleep, and he followed her, draping his arm over her, his hand resting on her bare stomach, his chest to her back. She laced her fingers between his.
"Nan," he whispered.
She turned over, searching for his eyes. "Hey," she whispered.
"Tell me you love me."
"You know I do," she whispered, putting her arm around him and drawing herself close. "I love you so much."
"Promise me you won't leave. Not now." He rested a hand against her cheek.
"I won't leave you," she murmured. "Not ever, not ever again. Ned, you're asleep, it's okay... remember, I told you, you're mine. My husband. Mine."
"You can't, you can't leave," he whispered, and her lips were trembling. "Don't say this was nothing, don't say it meant nothing..."
"You mean everything to me," she said, heavily. "Everything. I love you, I promise I love you, I'm going to love you forever, Ned Nickerson."
She had thought he was just talking in his sleep, and maybe he was, but after that they made love.
"I love you," she breathed into his ear, his cheek nestled against her jaw, one hand buried in her hair, and he took a long shaking breath. She relaxed her grip on his back and he rolled over with her, one of her legs still slung over his waist, holding her to his chest. "Don't ever leave," he whispered, his breathing still ragged.
"I'll never leave you."