The trip improves by leaps and bounds the moment we stop at the campground for the night.
“Finally,” I sigh, taking a deep breath of the fresh air as I climb down the steps of the RV, my baby
curled in my arm and looking around him with bright and interested eyes. “It’s good to be on steady
ground again.”
“Remind me never to take you on a boat,” Sinclair murmurs, coming down the stairs behind me. “If you
didn’t like this…you won’t respond well to that.”
“Yes sir,” I say passively, smiling down at the baby, who frees one of his arms and reaches out into the
cool evening air, clasping his fingers at a firefly who passes close by. I don’t mention that I liked the sea
voyage to the desert much more than I liked this, even though the accommodations weren’t as nice.
“What about this?” Sinclair murmurs as he steps down the final step and comes to stand behind me,
wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I smile as I lean
back against his chest. “Is the forest an improvement?”
I look around our isolated campsite, lit with grey and blue tones in the dying light
of the day. I smile at what I see, appreciating the cool air and the blinking light of
the fireflies that float lazily through the space.
“Yes,” I say with a decisive nod. “This will do quite well.”
“Good,” Sinclair replies, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing
me and moving to a luggage compartment low on the RV, I watch as he opens it
and begins pulling out camping gear chairs, a cooler, some bags with extra
snacks and bug spray.
“Oh!” I say, surprised by it all as my mate begins to set it all up around a burned out ring where a fire
goes. “Oh, we’re very prepared.”
“Of course we are,” Roger says, climbing out of the RV with Cora behind him.
When he reaches the ground, Roger flicks the switch that prepares Henry’s little
elevator. “We’re always ready to go glamping in this family.”
I laugh at the term, settling into a chair that Sinclair waves me towards, smiling
down at the baby. “What do you think, Rafe?” I whisper to him. “Do you like
glamping?” He gives a happy little coo in response and I laugh, grinning up at
his father. “I think that’s a yes.”
“Kid has taste,” Sinclair says, winking at me as he continues his work. We’re all
settled around a fire much faster than I thought was possible and I smile as I
watch Sinclair and Roger set a little grill across it, apparently preparing to make
us our dinner as well.
“They only cook,” Henry whispers, leaning over to Cora and I and giving us a
smile, “when it’s outdoors. Otherwise, they’re not interested.”
“Not true!” Sinclair protests, his eyes still on the fire.
“Absolutely true!” Roger chimes in, making us laugh. “If I’m making food, it’s
grilled. Otherwise I’m getting takeout.”
“Guess your baby is gonna eat a lot of hotdogs,” I murmur to Cora.
“And eggrolls,” she adds, sighing. Then she looks over at me from her chair next
to mine. “You know I can’t cook either.”
I shrug. “Maybe we can make them hire us chefs,” I consider. She raises her
eyebrows, pleased at the idea, and we both grin.
It continues like this long into the night the family gathered happily around the
fire, talking about nothing and everything, chatting lightly about what we’ll be
doing in our mutual future but not touching on any of the big, scary subjects that
lurk behind the conversation. We all know that they’re there, after all – and we
all simultaneously decide to leave them untouched for the moment.
Instead, tonight is just about laughter, and fun, and spending time together.
I moan a little as I bite into a smore that Sinclair hands me, the marshmallow
burned to a crisp just the way I like it. “Oh my god,” I murmur, closing my eyes
as I chew. “This is so good, I can barely stand it.”
“You’re dripping,” Sinclair laughs, you’re going to get marshmallow all over the
baby – ”
“I don’t care,” I murmur, shaking my head and refusing to open my eyes as I
take another bite. “He won’t mind -=”
Sinclair laughs again as he comes and lifts Rafe from my arms. I let him,
wanting to be alone with my s’more anyway. Cora, Roger, and Henry laugh as
well as Sinclair walks Rafe away from me, apologizing in a loud murmur for how
messy and inconsiderate his mother is. I wave a hand at him, dismissing him
and his words, knowing that he’s kidding anyway.
Regretfully, I finish my s’more and look around at my family, watching them
quietly. Henry watches Sinclair and his grandchild while Cora and Roger sit
close to each other, not talking but clearly connected in this peaceful moment.
“It’s nice out here,” Cora says, wrapping her arms around herself and smiling
around at our dark camp. “I didn’t think I’d like sitting outside in the dark by a fire
as much as this.”
“Something primal about it, isn’t there?” Roger murmurs, raising a hand to play
with Cora’s hair as he smiles at her.
“Yeah,” she says, looking up at the stars and then turning her head to look at
Roger, beaming at him.
I can’t help my own smile from crossing my face as I watch them. And then, as
they stare at each other, I decide that that’s my cue.
As quiet as I can, I stand up from my little camping chair and send a pulse down
my bond with Sinclair. He looks up at me, curious and I nod my head first
towards the RV and then towards Roger and Cora, who begin talking quietly. My
mate follows my gaze and then nods his understanding. He walks to his father
and puts a hand on his back, leaning down to speak a whispered word.
Then, one by one, as stealthily as we can – which is not very stealthy,
considering Henry has to be lifted into the RV with a noisy platform – the three
of us and the baby make our way back into the little mobile house, leaving Cora
and Roger alone by the fire to have a moment to themselves.
“What do you think they’re talking about,” I say to Sinclair as he climbs last into
the RV, pulling the door shut behind him, the baby still curled in his arms. I’m
sitting in the little kitchen nook, peering out the window at Roger and Cora
through the tinted window.
“Isn’t that their business, little spy?” he says, coming to sit with me on the plush
leather. Henry, perhaps wanting to give us our own moment, rolls his way back
to the bedroom, making some excuse about wanting to watch some television,
though we both know he doesn’t watch TV.
“Yes,” I sigh, looking up at my mate and reaching for my baby, who Sinclair
passes into my arms. “But you know I always want to know.”
Sinclair laughs. “Do you know,” he murmurs, slipping his arms low around me
and pulling the baby and I warmly against him, resting his chin on my shoulder
so that he too can look out at Cora and Roger, “I never cared as much about the
details of my brother’s love life until you came along.”
“Why not, I say, still peering out at them. “Roger’s hot. He probably has had lots
of interesting girlfriend drama
“Roger’s hot?” Sinclair asks, his body going stiff behind me, just a little bit.
“What?” I ask, turning to him, confused now.
“You think my brother’s hot?”
I burst out laughing, lifting a hand to my mate’s face. “Dominic,” I say, shaking
my head at him. “Your brother is hot. It’s an ostensible fact – not my opinion.”
“Still,” he growls, pulling me tighter. “I don’t like to hear you say it.”
“Oh?” I inquire with a smirk. “And what would you have me say instead?”
“That all men, beside me, are nonexistent. Or disgusting swamp creatures – ”
I burst out laughing again at this, tilting my head back.
Sinclair laughs along with me and I tuck myself even closer to him, grinning up
into his face. “I promise,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to his mouth, all men, next to
you, actually are disgusting swamp creatures. But, for Cora’s sake, I’m glad
Roger’s hot.”
Sinclair’s chest hums for a moment as he considers my point but then he nods
sharply, finding this acceptable. I quirk my head to the side, a question coming
to me quite suddenly. “Do you think Cora’s pretty?”
“What?” he asks, pulling back a little, aghast.
I grin. “It’s just a question.”
“Ella,” he says, looking at me as if I’m strange and shaking his head. “I’ve –
never even thought about it. I don’t look at her that way.”
“Really?” I ask, curious. “You don’t look at other women?”
“No,” he says, shaking his head seriously. “It’s not it doesn’t even cross my mind
anymore. All of those parts of my focus are directed solely at you. It doesn’t
even enter my mind to think if I’m attracted to anyone else – it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh,” I say, raising my eyebrows, surprised and pleased. Then I smile at him.
“Well, that’s very nice to hear.”
“You’re it for me, Ella,” Sinclair murmurs, putting a hand on my cheek and
turning my face up to him. Then, quite softly, he presses a kiss to my mouth.
“You’re the only one who matters, who will matter, ever.”
“Same for me, my love,” I whisper back to him, and then I kiss him again, for
real. The kiss sweeps through me – fast, hot. My heart rate increases and I find
myself panting much sooner than I thought I’d be.
“Shit,” Sinclair sighs, glancing around the very public room in which we’re sitting.
“Dream state?” I suggest, grimacing a little. Because I think we both know that we’d rather…
“Yes,” he sighs, standing up to rearrange the furniture in the living area and turn it into a little bedroom,
though he glances with a grimace at the little twin bed where we know his father will sleep. “Though
next vacation,” he says, sending me a frustrated glance, “we’re going alone. And there will be doors.”
“Agreed,” I say with a sigh. And then I spend the new few minutes getting the baby ready for bed while
my mate works, every second regretting the promise we made to let Cora and Roger take the
bedroom.
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