“Why not?” I run a hand through my hair, fighting annoyance. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve always hated it when my dad tells me I can’t do something.
“You need four-wheel drive. You don’t want to get stuck out there,” he explains.
“I won’t go too far.” The sand near the entrance to the park isn’t as soft and deep.
“Take my truck.” He waves a hand toward it. “Leave your car here.”
Wait a second. His truck is downright precious to him. “You’re voluntarily loaning me your truck?”
“I don’t want you to get stuck out there. Plus, this way you can keep all the equipment in the back,” he says, as if it’s completely logical that he’s letting me use it.
But it’s sort of not logical at all, because he’s never liked me driving his vehicles. He described me as reckless and careless on the road—direct quote.
Not going to turn down his offer though.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, still a little in shock.
I help my father dig out a few more camping supplies. A couple of fold-up chairs. A battery-operated lantern. Long, metal sticks with wooden handles made to roast hot dogs or marshmallows. A shovel so we can dig ourselves out if we get stuck, or dig a fire pit at night. I’ve camped out on the dunes enough times with the fa
mily that I can figure it all out on my own. I’m not too worried.
Though I do want to make this good for Gracie. She’s been stressed this summer. Not her usual, fight me self. I know she’s worried about money and taking on the student teacher thing. And the health scare didn’t help matters either. I just want her to have a good time when we go on this quick trip, so she can forget all of her troubles, even if it’s only for twenty-four hours.
“Going camping with friends?” Dad asks me once we’ve found everything I want to use and we’re loading it into the back of his truck. Mom has gone back into the house and it’s just the two of us.
“A friend,” I say, being purposely vague. Mom dug for info because she’s a pro at it. Dad doesn’t pry as much.
“Girlfriend?” He lifts his brows.
Well damn. He just proved me wrong.
“A female friend,” I amend.
He tosses the chairs into the truck bed. “You serious about her?”
“We’re not even dating,” I admit. “We live together. She’s one of my roommates.”
“Oh, that Gracie girl?” I’m surprised he remembers her name. He doesn’t seem to keep up with much of what I’m doing since I moved out. “The feisty one?”
How the hell does he know this?
“Your mom keeps me up-to-date,” he explains. I’m sure my surprised expression gave me away. “You might think I’m not paying attention to what you’re doing, but I am.”
“Oh.” I nod, glance around, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah. I’m going with Gracie. She’s not feeling so feisty lately. We’ve been getting along.”
“That’s good.” His gaze narrows as he contemplates me. “You like her?”
“As a friend?” I frown. “Yeah. I do.”
“You attracted to her?”
I could lie, but what’s the point in that? “Yes. I am.”
He chuckles. “You’re in trouble, son.”
I’m immediately defensive. “Why do you say that?”
“You trying to impress this girl? Take her camping, share with her a part of your life you enjoyed growing up? That’s a sign.”