3 Seconds (Time for Love 6)
“Brock said Dad found it when he was on a fishing trip with his buddies, and we’ve been coming here ever since.
“I can see why.”
“I’ll get the tent set up, then we can get some wood for a fire and get that going for dinner.”
“Let me help,” I offered, even though I had no idea what I was doing.
That fact became apparent five minutes later, when Brendan had the tent fully erected and I was still trying to figure out how to fold the cover so it would fit back into the bag correctly.
“You’ve really never been camping before…” he said, more of a statement than a question.
“Nope,” I replied, handing him the cover when he reached for it. “We moved here a couple years after my mom died, so my da was working and trying to get us established. We took care of the house together, and cooked together, and whenever he could afford it, he’d take me to the circus, or a carnival that was driving through.”
“Sounds nice,” Brendan said. I scowled when I realized he’s already gotten that damn cover to fit in its too-small bag, causing him to chuckle. “Just takes practice, Freckles. Just wait until we have to put the tent back.”
I looked from the large two-person tent to the small bag that Brendan had carried it in and grimaced. I was not looking forward to that.
Once we had enough wood, Brendan started it with ease and we began prepping for dinner. He was knee deep in the water, fishing for our protein, while I was shucking corn and cutting up potatoes. He had a device that sat over the fire, so that you could place a skillet on top of one side, and grill on the other side. It was quite genius actually, and I was curious to see how the food would turn out.
“Caught one,” Brendan said, holding up a large bass proudly.
“Wow, you’re shockingly good at this stuff,” I replied, thoroughly impressed.
“I’m going to go clean it. We have a station a ways from the camp. Be back soon.”
“Okay,” I replied, thinking it was a good idea not to have fish guts right by where we were sleeping.
I suddenly wondered if there were bears in the woods, and began to totally freak myself out.
It felt like hours before Brendan came back into the clearing with his prepared fish, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him.
“You okay?” he asked, looking down at my expression.
“Yeah, just happy you’re not a bear.”
“You don’t have to worry, we’ve never once seen a bear in all the years we’ve been coming here. A couple coyotes or wolves, maybe, but no bears.”
“Coyotes and wolves?” I asked, wondering how long it would take me to get to the truck.
Brendan laughed as he pulled me up and into his arms. “I’m just fucking with you … We’ll be fine.”
I pushed away and slapped him on the chest, then took the fish from him.
“Everything’s prepped, should I lay it all on your grill?”
“Here,” he said, bending over to pull a small bag from his pack and handing it to me. I zipped it open to find an array of spices inside.
“You bring your own spices?”
“We’re camping,” he replied, bending over and grabbing the pan of potatoes, before handing them to me to be seasoned. “But we’re not savages.”
I sprinkled some salt, pepper, garlic salt, and what Brendan called his “special seasoning” on the potatoes, thinking I hadn’t given him enough credit, before handing them back and watching as he placed them over the open flame.
Once everything was seasoned and cooked to perfection, we feasted, and I had to admit, it was one of the best meals I’d ever eaten.
Once we’d cleaned up, Brendan pulled out his acoustic guitar and sat on a log by the fire, then gestured for me to sit with him.
He sang, we made love under the stars, and fell asleep snuggling in Brendan’s sleeping bag. It was a perfect night, and I knew I’d never think of camping the same way again.