Flirting with Fire: A Summer Camp Swingers novel

Nick Scipio Flirting with Fire: A Summer Camp Swingers novel Summer Camp Swingers: Allie Series Book 1

Chapter 1

Christy was running late, as usual, and she was packing for a trip, which only made things worse. So far, she’d pulled out a hanging bag for dresses, a rolling suitcase for shoes and regular clothes, and an overnight bag for all the other things she couldn’t live without—for a week.

The trip was actually two weeks, but she’d only need clothes for one of them, swim camp with Laurie. The whole family would be at the Pines for the other, where we’d only need sunscreen. Still, I knew better than to tease her. Dresses and shoes and jewelry made her happy.

“What time are you supposed to pick them up?” I said instead.

She reflexively glanced at her wrist before she scanned the nightstand and dresser.

“Bathroom counter,” I said helpfully.

She had a habit of leaving things wherever she took them off, and I had a habit of paying attention to them. I called them bunny tracks, and I could usually follow the trail to find her.

Be vewy, vewy quiet, I grinned to myself. I’m hunting wabbits.

“I heard that,” she warned. Then she disappeared into the bathroom and was gone for a couple of minutes. She returned wearing her watch, a necklace, and a matching pair of earrings, the Celtic trinity knots the girls had given her for her fortieth birthday.

“Much better,” I said, more or less sincerely. “Now, what time are you—?”

“Now! Of course. Mr. Punctual.”

I completely failed to suppress a grin.

“Ugh! Will you call her?”

I flipped open my cell phone and scrolled down to Wren. She answered on the second ring.

“She’s running late,” I said without preamble. “The usual.”

Wren and I both knew how Christy worked. We routinely added fifteen minutes whenever she said she’d do something at a certain time.

“Remind me why I believe her when she says she’ll be on time?” Wren laughed.

“No clue. You think we’d learn.”

“But she’s always so sincere,” Wren complained fondly. “Like this time she’s really gonna change.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. About how long, do you think?”

I gave the suitcases a quick scan and then added time for loading the van and saying goodbye. Fortunately, Wren only lived next door, although it was still a three-minute drive.

“Twenty minutes?” I said. “Maybe thirty?”

Christy squawked indignantly, but Wren simply laughed.

“Is she sure she doesn’t want me to drive? We just had the oil changed in the van.”

“She’s sure,” I answered for her. “Besides, our van has the entertainment center for the girls.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wren said. “Tell her we’ll be ready when she gets here.”

“Will do.” We said goodbye and ended the call.

“Funny, ha ha,” Christy said. “It won’t take thirty minutes.”

She was right, but only because it was closer to forty by the time I wheeled and carried her suitcases outside. In her defense, we had to wait on Laurie too. She could wear makeup now that she was thirteen, and she’d inherited Christy’s sense of time. She packed like her too—or rather, she overpacked like her—so I loaded five suitcases into the back of the van, not counting Laurie’s backpack.

I returned to the house and opened the door. “Emily! Susie!” I hollered. “They’re leaving! Come say goodbye!”

Two dogs came running first, Spike and Buck, black Labs of the goofy variety. They barreled down the hallway and would have run through me if I hadn’t stepped aside. They spilled into the garage and then circled in confusion.

“Go on,” I told them, “Laurie’s out in the driveway.” I even pointed.

They couldn’t see the van because my Denali was in the way, so they didn’t believe me. Spike thought she might be hiding in the workshop, and Buck followed to investigate.

“Guys, outside.”

I was just about to tell Laurie to call them when their heads snapped around. I stepped into the house, and they bolted past me in a headlong rush.

Emily appeared from the direction of the stairs, followed by Molly, a yellow Lab who was the complete opposite of the other two. She was mothering and protective, like Emily herself.

“Where’s Susie?” I asked. Molly looked up, like she wanted to know too.

“Upstairs,” Emily said. “Why?”

I raised an eyebrow. Please go get her.

Emily huffed and headed upstairs to find her sister. Molly went with her. They returned a minute later with Susie in tow.

“What?” the younger girl was saying. “I didn’t hear! Ugh.”

“Chop-chop,” I said.

“Why do we have to rush?” Emily complained. “Weren’t they supposed to leave, like, an hour ago?”

“Preaching to the choir,” I said. “But Mom and Laurie are special. They don’t tell time like we do.”

“And me,” Susie chirped brightly. “I tell time just fine.”

“You do,” I agreed. Then I stepped into the garage and waved them past me.

“Come on, Mols,” Emily said, and the dog’s nails clicked on the concrete as she trotted to keep up.