I ducked my head with a grin.
He paused on his way out of the shed. “Be sure to wear a helmet. The registration and ownership are in the little bag. Anything else you need, kid?”
I couldn’t help asking. “Another sandwich would be great.”
He laughed. “Get it yourself, kid. The missus loves to see you eat.”
I watched him walk away, feeling overwhelmed. I wasn’t used to kindness, aside from Sunny and her family. Most people treated me with kid gloves because of who my father was. Some disliked me because of it, and others ignored me. Indifference and hostility were the main reactions when people heard my name. I was used to it.
But I had earned Gerry’s respect. I wanted to continue to earn it.
I rolled the door closed and went to finish my chores.
But first, I was going to stop and get another sandwich.
3
Linc
The next four weeks were, without a doubt, the happiest of my life. The days were busy and crazy—filled with kids, work, and lots of play.
And Sunny.
I got to see her anytime I wanted. She always had a treat waiting for me in the kitchen when I would drop in. We sat together at meals, her sisters occupied with their new friends. Kim and Lori were thrilled to see me when they arrived and sought me out for hugs almost daily, but other than that, they were busy and happy. It was good to see.
Sunny was relaxed and smiled all the time. We knew very few people at the camp since a lot of them came in from other towns to work here. The couple of people we recognized couldn’t be bothered with either of us, so we were actually free. My father had no spies here, and no one reporting to him. He never contacted me, and other than the two times I went to see him, he seemed to care less about what I was doing.
As far as he was concerned, I was out of his hair, away from Sunny, and doing what he wanted. I purposely let him think I was miserable, talking about the menial work, and complaining about all the kids and roughing it.
I was sure he was delighted with my supposed misery. I drove Sunny to her house and dropped both her and the scooter off before walking to my father’s. I was hot and sweaty when I arrived, but he seemed unconcerned about the idea that I had walked the full five miles, instead ordering me to take a shower, then asked me what I had found out. He wasn’t happy with my lack of information and told me to dig harder, then dismissed me. The next week it was the same thing, although his anger was more evident. He took my cell phone and dropped it into his desk drawer.
He stood. “You’re wasting my time. Don’t come back until you have something I can use. Find something.” He waited until I was at the doorway and called out, “Don’t make me angry.” His threat was clear, but at that point, I didn’t care.
I left, not planning on returning until camp was over, and already making plans to spend the free days with Sunny. I had nothing to say to him, and I wouldn’t help him take Gerry’s camp away from him, so I wouldn’t return. He was going to hit me no matter what I said to him, so I would enjoy my time away from him and take my punishment later.
On the way back to camp, we stopped at another small town and I bought two pay-as-you-go cell phones. I couldn’t do that where I lived—there was no place to get them. Now we each had a phone, and once I got home, even if I got my other one back, Sunny and I could stay in touch and my father would never know. The money Gerry was giving me each week would cover the cost for a long time.
The best times were the evenings. Once the kids were in bed and the camp was quiet. Most nights, Sunny found her way into my room, and we spent the time talking and exploring each other.
I was addicted to her. The taste of her mouth. The feel of her skin. I couldn’t get enough of her.
Like now.
She moaned as I slid my hands under her shirt, cupping her tits. They fascinated me. I ran my thumb over her nipple, feeling the bud harden under my touch.
“Please,” I begged, tugging on her shirt. Every time we were alone, we went a little further. Pushed our boundaries. Tonight, I wanted to see her.
She sat up, took in a deep breath and pulled her T-shirt over her head. She looked down, her plain cotton bra white against the golden color of her skin from the sun. For a moment, she looked sad, and I cupped her cheek.
“What?”
“I wish this was prettier,” she whispered, touching the strap on her shoulder.
I shook my head. “I don’t need that prettier. You’re the prettiest thing in the world. Nothing can compete.”
She gazed up at me. “You’re so perfect.”
I snorted. “I’m hardly perfect. Ask my father.”