Sailor Proof by Annabeth Albert

Chapter Twenty-Four

Arthur

“I think we’re lost,” I announced to Derrick as we passed a stump I swore we’d seen twenty minutes prior.

“We’re not lost.” That he could keep his patience with me even when I was being extra dramatic was one of the things I liked most about him. That and how he was holding my hand, even with no one around to see his perfect-boyfriend act except me.

“I haven’t heard the others in at least ten minutes.” Turning my head, I glanced behind us, but yep, only trees, not a Euler in sight.

“Five of those don’t count.” He gave me an arch look before copping another feel of my ass. It was true that we’d lost track of the others around the time he’d dragged me behind a particularly dense thicket of trees and kissed me until my toes curled in my hiking boots.

“True.” My skin heated and the temptation to repeat the interlude made my pulse thrum. “Still, I think we’re going in circles, and we haven’t added anything new to our list.”

I held up the list for the annual scavenger hunt. It was filled with things that might be found in or around the camp like four-leaf clovers and bird feathers and playing cards. So far we’d found a blue shirt and a flip-flop, but only because I’d had both those things back at our cabin. However, another kissing break there had put us further behind the rest of the teams.

Not that Derrick seemed to care.

“So? We’re having fun, right?” After shrugging, he grabbed my hand again. “Isn’t that your whole message? Have fun, don’t worry about winning?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like coming in last either.” I might rail against the family competitive gene, but I could also admit to being plagued by dreams of winning, same as my brothers.

“Hey, maybe they’ll have an award for the team who got the least number of items. Then we can still be winners. Er...losers. Winners at losing?” Derrick gave me a lopsided grin.

Winners at losing. The notes to a song I’d been trying to write all week slid into place. This. This was the big idea I’d been waiting for. “You’re brilliant.”

“I am?” Derrick tilted his head, nose wrinkling like I’d stopped making sense, which was a strong possibility. “I was more trying for goofy and kissable there. I’ll take brilliant though.”

“You’re definitely kissable.” Stopping at a clearing, I leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “And you gave me the best idea.”

“Oh? Tell me.” The way he demanded, all eager and happy for me, made my chest so light that his hand was the only reason I didn’t float away.

“Okay, so you know how I’ve been pissed about the idea of certain kids winning and certain kids losing at talent night?” I’d made him listen to several rants on this topic in the last few days.

“Yeah. I like how your choreography makes sure they each have a moment to shine.” The pride in his voice sounded genuine, not like part of the good-boyfriend act. He’d paid attention to those rants too, always listening and not telling me to just deal with my bad attitude. In fact, his concern always managed to take the edge off my anger, made it so that I could continue finding ways to enjoy myself outside of the family drive to succeed. Like kissing him senseless every chance I got. People who listened as well as Derrick were rare as fuck and needed to be rewarded.

“Thanks for your help, too. But what if they were all winners?”

“What? They can’t all win.” Looking every inch the by-the-rules military man, he pursed his mouth.

“Sure they can.” It was my turn to be the patient one. “We make the rules. If I say everyone wins, then everyone wins. No more first-place and runner-up bullshit. I’m going to have Best Smile and Loudest Laugh and Highest Kick. Everyone wins something and no more ranking the results.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Like superlatives in school, but they’re all good ones?”

“Yup. A whole stack of winners.” I bounced on my feet. I fucking loved my brain sometimes. It was all I could do not to dash back to camp right then.

“Your mom may hate this change. I think she liked the idea of handing out trophies.”

“She can deal. And we can use her prizes. I’ll just need a few more.” I finally caught sight of one of the taller camp buildings, a two-story lodge, and I started heading that direction.

“Hey, where are you going?”

Oops. I’d totally forgotten to tell Derrick the rest of my plan.

“Sorry. I get like this composing, too. I get a big idea and I want to do it right away. I’m so pumped that I want to start making certificates and prizes. Screw the rest of the scavenger hunt that we weren’t going to win anyway.”

“Yep.” Derrick took my hand and led me several steps out of the forest, right to...

“The path? You knew where we were the whole time?”

“Maybe.” Derrick didn’t look all that contrite. “Maybe I like being lost with you.”

“You are so getting lucky later,” I promised because it was that or collapse in a giant puddle of goo over his ability to say the absolute perfect thing.

“Counting on it.” Derrick sped up his steps toward main camp. “We can probably raid the art supplies from yesterday.”

“Seriously?” I stopped in the middle of the path to whirl on him. I hadn’t expected him to drop the scavenger hunt. Or want to help. “You’re simply going to follow along with my idea?”

“Why not? It’s a good idea. And you’re cute all fired up. Who wouldn’t want to help you?”

“Who indeed. Damn, Derrick, I—”

Derrick cut off my big sappy declaration with another kiss, which was probably for the better. Telling him how much he meant to me, how very much I liked him, wasn’t going to change reality. But like him I did, everything from how he kissed me to the bounce in his step as we hurried to the dining hall building. I was the one with the big idea, but he was right there, handing me colorful construction paper and locating a tub of markers.

“Okay, put me to work.” He grabbed a blank piece of paper and attached it to a clipboard. “I can start a list for you of who’s getting what.”

“Organization. I love it. Knew you were good for something.” I made stacks of the various colors of paper, trying to visualize how I wanted the certificates to look.

“Hey, I’m good for lots.” Already he had a neat list of names in blocky handwriting, the sort of initiative I found super attractive. I was used to pulling off projects like this without assistance, and having him help was a much-appreciated novelty.

“Yeah, you are.” Leaning in, I gave him a fast kiss.

“Don’t tempt me into forgetting your big plan.” He turned me back toward the table. “Work first, then play.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Gladly.” He gave me a look with enough heat to melt a box of crayons. Damn the way he fired me up. He distracted me from work in a way that nothing else ever had.

“Oops.” Too busy cataloging all the shades of amber in his eyes, I accidentally smeared the glitter pen I was outlining a name with. “Hopefully Lila doesn’t mind a little extra glitter on her sign.”

“Never too much glitter. One year I made ornaments with my grandma. I was in middle school, much too cool for crafts, but she insisted. I found glitter in my hair for weeks, but it was worth it for how much her friends raved over the ornaments we gave them.” Derrick’s nostalgic tone made me wish yet again I could have met his grandmother, if only to thank her for raising such an amazing human.

“That’s awesome.” Handing him Lila’s sign to put with the other finished ones, I started the next. “I love your stories about her and her friends.”

“They were quite the group. A few of them are still kicking.”

“Really? We—err, you should totally road trip to see them.” I stopped just short of volunteering myself for another vacation with Derrick.

“Maybe. I send cards as I can when I’m stateside.”

Derrick’s thoughtful tone made me weirdly hopeful he might take my suggestion. And if he did, then maybe I could renew my bid to join him and...

And what? I could already hear the playlist, but I had to drop my fantasy even if I loved the idea of Derrick and me and the open road and not a relative in sight. A vacation just for the hell of it, just the two of us, no fake relationship, simply because we liked hanging out.

“Bet they appreciate the contact,” I said instead of pressing my idea.

“I think they do. It was fun to send a picture of my car to Flora, the lady who taught me how to change oil. She sent a reply saying I overpaid, but also Grandma would have been proud at me saving up for it.”

“I’m sure she’d be proud of you for all sorts of reasons.” Reaching over to his chair, I gave him a fast one-armed hug.

“Thanks. I think that’s why I like being around your family so much.” Derrick added my next sign to the pile, straightening them into a precise stack he was cross-referencing with his list. “It reminds me of the best days hanging with Grandma and her friends, the friendly bickering with an added benefit of seeing what cousins and siblings would have been like.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get that when you were little.” I had a tendency to dwell on my own childhood inadequacies and disappointments, but Derrick’s stories were a good reminder that plenty of people had had it far worse than me. A little teasing was hardly on par with being an orphan. “But I’m glad you had her in your life when you needed her.”

“Yeah. My early years were kind of...hectic. Lots of loud arguments and moving around a lot.” Derrick’s eyes took on a far-off cast, but I didn’t dare interrupt him because this was the most he’d shared about his biological parents. “I don’t remember a ton, to be honest. My parents had a very dysfunctional off-and-on-again relationship before they died in a car accident. The social workers placed me with Grandma. Upended her retirement, but she never complained.”

“Why would she? You’re pretty awesome.” I gave him another hug, this one tighter. I couldn’t take his loss away, but I could let him know he wasn’t alone now. I wanted to tell him he could borrow my family whenever he wanted, wished that was something I could offer him for more than a week. Derrick deserved a family.

“Thanks.” He leaned into my hug. “And thanks for listening. I don’t talk about the past a ton.”

I could sense from the tension in his shoulders that he didn’t want the conversation to turn too heavy, so I made my voice teasing as I nudged him. “You? The silent type? Never.”

“Ha. But I mean it. You make me want to talk and talk.”

“I like that.” Our gazes linked, and it was all I could do to not swoon in the face of that compliment and the warmth in his eyes. Something was happening here, something big, something I couldn’t name, and I was powerless to look away.

However, right as I leaned in farther, the door to the dining hall swung open and Aunt Sandy burst in. Apparently, there was no moment too sweet for familial interruption around here.

“What are you guys doing?” she asked. “You can’t hide out here all day.”

“Sure we can.” I laughed, but I felt my words in my soul, another powerful brainstorm hitting me. We didn’t have to do the scavenger hunt. Or anything else we didn’t want to do. We make the rules, I’d told Derrick. And maybe that applied to more than simply awards or activities. Perhaps there was a deeper lesson there if I was brave enough to listen.