Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Cisco eyed the woman who'd come out to meet him.

Stunning, was the first word that came to mind. Cautious was the second.

She hadn't said a word to him as he'd approached her. She simply stood there with her arms crossed under her ample, perky breasts, eyeing him as if he were the last person in Maine she wanted to see.

But… She'd asked for a self-defense instructor, hadn't she? Unless…

Huh. Maybe she wasn't the director, but a counselor who had no idea why he'd rolled up.

Cisco took a long look. The woman certainly looked young, so… He glanced around, but didn't see anyone else; a person of authority.

Shit. He knew he should have called first, but Cisco was the type of person who liked to get the lay of the land in a situation before he was politely shown the "good stuff", which was what most people pushed on a visitor who was a cop.

So much for that plan.

He supposed he should have driven his truck instead of his loud-piped bike if he'd wanted to arrive on the sly, but his two- wheeled ride always made a better impression with the kids…none of whom were here yet, because, duh. Camp wasn't due to be in session until Monday.

Now he was faced with the possibility that the woman in charge was absent, and he was about to have his ass handed to him by a young counselor.

"Hi," he offered, approaching the pretty redhead with his hand outstretched. "I'm Officer Cisco Andera. I'm looking for the director." He gave the name that—when he finally pulled the paper from his pocket—the chief had provided. "I believe her name is Hilly?" he read.

"That's me," the woman returned, not exactly coldly, but by no stretch of the imagination would Cisco consider her words a warm welcome. Not the greeting he normally got from the female population. And she'd ignored his proffered shake.

Well, damn. Cisco lowered his hand awkwardly. Maybe she was mad that he hadn't contacted her before coming out. Some people worked on a rigid schedule. He'd just assumed—wrongly he could see now—that a camp director, being at the mercy of so many kids, would be one to roll with the punches.

"Right. I'm, uh, sorry I didn't call first, but I have the day free, and it was kind of a spur of the moment decision to come see the camp before I start my job here."

The woman's face thawed just a single degree. "Not a problem," she clipped. "It's just that I'm in the middle of a meeting with my counselors, so…"

"I can wait out here until you're finished," Cisco offered genially. Anything to get the pinched look off her face.

She huffed a bit, then shook her head. "No. It's fine. If you'd like to join us inside, I'll make introductions."

Cisco had seen the lookie-loos at the window. They appeared excited for his company.

Not Hilly. He figured the reluctant invitation she'd just given him was the most welcome she was going to make him feel, so he took her up on her offer.

"Sounds like a plan."

He turned, removing his shades and helmet before tucking the first into his shirt pocket, and laying the second on his saddle. He automatically ran his fingers through his hair so it didn't lay flat to his head. This was one of many times he thought that a buzz cut would, logistically, work better for him with his ever-pervasive helmet-head, but he was a little vain about his dark curls since it was one of the things about him the ladies loved. So he'd talked himself out of it every time he'd come close to telling his barber to shave it all off.

When he turned back, he could tell that Hilly had been watching him closely, and he couldn't be certain, but she might have been checking out his ass in his khaki breeches. That, and the neutral look she'd adopted, lifted his spirits a bit. Maybe the woman wasn't as cold and unapproachable as he'd first surmised.

She cleared her throat, and Cisco realized he'd been standing still, staring at her for longer than was polite, so he stepped forward and beamed the smile that always melted female panties. "I'm ready. I'd love to meet your crew."

Her previously semi-accepting look deteriorated again.

Fuck. So much for pouring on the charm.

"Uh, lead the way." He conjured more fake cheer.

Without a word she turned on her sneakered heel to head back into the building, and he found himself watching her ass this time. It was a lovely thing, high, round, and firm, but he couldn't help think that a little more weight would do the woman some good. There wasn't a spare lick of meat on her, anywhere. Still, that didn't detract from the spectacular display that were her legs. Holy haunches. They were long and lithe, tanned and toned, and he'd bet anything they were as agile as they were fine. They'd wrap around his hips…

Shut it down, asshole , Cisco told himself. Not only is it inappropriate to fantasize right now, the woman clearly isn't into you.

With a grunt, and a quick surreptitious adjustment to the front of his pants, Cisco followed a silent Hilly into the largest building he could see on site, blinking to let his eyes accustom to the shadowed interior as he walked in.

"Everyone?" This time when the woman spoke, there was more life in her tone. "I want you to meet Officer Andera. He's the self-defense expert I was telling you about."

There was a chorus of greeting from the ten young people, with—as he might have predicted—some lowered lashes and lip-licking from the females in the group. Cisco ignored them. Not only were these ladies far too young to interest him, he was here because he had a job to do, and there'd be no nonsense from this peanut gallery.

Their boss, on the other hand…

Hilly continued, not knowing where his mind had gone. "You'll all get a chance to work with him alongside the kids in your cabin. So," she paused until everyone's eyes were on her, "if there are no more questions, I need to set up a schedule with Officer Andera. Which means you're free to explore and get settled." She pulled a stack of index cards from the back pocket of her cut-offs.

Once again, Cisco's eyes appreciated her ass.

"Here are your cabin assignments, along with the names of the campers you'll be in charge of." The crew lined up and she gave each a card before they turned and immediately walked away to begin…thumbing their phones.

"Oh. That reminds me." She stopped the exodus, gathering their attention again. "I've talked with each one of you regarding your devices, but here's your friendly reminder. Even though you'll be allowed to carry your phones around camp for emergency purposes, there will be no private calls, texts, or messaging unless you're off duty, or your campers are all snug in their bunks each night. So enjoy being connected for the next two days, because after that, your usage is limited to your off hours. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Hilly," they all chimed.

Huh. Not Ms. Whatever , but Hilly. Apparently, the woman was friendly with her young employees; something she had yet to afford Cisco.

He'd see about that.

"What's the policy on the younger campers having phones?" he asked, just to be included in the conversation.

"Not allowed," Hilly answered decisively. "They'll all be disconnected from social media of every kind during their stay. A lot of what these kids find on-line gives them warped views of their peers, which leads to a subversion of their self-esteem. Those are negative emotions we try to eliminate here at camp. Our job is to build confidence, trust, and optimism in our young campers, which we can't do if they continually get negative reinforcement from their ever-present devices."

"Admirable," Cisco agreed.

He'd never thought about the phone being anything other than a way to keep up with current news, play music, and find restaurants, but he guessed kids weren't good at keeping to boundaries with what they looked up, or groups they joined.

Cisco had his hard and fast limits.

He never trolled the internet or dating sites for women. Ever. He didn't want any female getting the idea that he was looking for "the one", which a profile might have them assuming. Nope. His preferred method of meeting his one-and-dones were always face to face; pick-ups where his agenda could be spelled out in person; no second guessing allowed. That way, there were no misunderstandings or hurt feelings when he tugged on his pants and skedaddled directly following a fuck.

But why was he thinking about fucking right now?

Uh, right. The woman who seemed oblivious to his charms was tweaking his libido.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop thinking about her naked, and stood next to Hilly as they watched the kids file out. The second they were gone, the air once again filled with tension, and—if he had to put a name to it—disdain from his reluctant companion.

Which was beginning to bug the crap out of him.

What was this woman's problem? Clearly, she had a stick-up-her-ass where he was concerned, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Sometimes, when an immediate coldness consumed someone he met, Cisco assumed it was because the caramel color of his skin wasn't acceptable to the person giving him pissy vibes. But he'd noticed that at least half of Hilly's counselors—whom he assumed she'd hired—had pigmentation as dark, if not darker, than his.

Puzzling.

But Cisco loved a challenge, and he determined then and there that his new favorite pastime would be getting Hilly to drop her sour demeanor. "So. What are you thinking?" he prodded. "Schedule-wise, that is."

"Oh. Right."

It looked like he'd pulled her head out of some deep hole, and briefly he wondered what might be in that yawning pit of angst. But when she turned to him with purpose and looked at him directly for the first time, he was immediately lost in her deep, sapphire blue eyes, and couldn't remember what he'd been thinking.

"Why don't we have a seat at one of the dining tables, and we can figure out your schedule."

Right. Schedule.

No, actually. He'd been perseverating on her unusual aloofness.

She swiftly shifted her gaze from his as if sensing his scrutiny, and purposely shut him down. "Over here."

Cisco bit back a grin, figuring he'd just scored some kind of point, and followed her to a table where they both pulled out chairs and sat.

Game on .

"So," she coughed, "your chief said you'd be available two days each week for the duration of the summer. What hours are you thinking will work best for you?"

"I should tailor my schedule to yours," Cisco told her diplomatically. "My PD shift is seven to three, Monday thru Friday." He'd never get tired of saying that. It almost seemed like a dream. "I'm sure you have your daily agenda already figured out, so within those parameters, I'm all yours whenever and wherever you want me."

Had his innocent question caused the slight blush that suddenly covered Ms. Hilly's pretty freckled nose?

Yes! She wasn't as unaffected by him as she pretended.

She ducked her pert proboscis under her red curls and reached for a folder that was lying on top of the table she'd led him to. "Here's our camp schedule," she told him, passing him a sheet off the top.

He perused the timetable as she went over it, her fluster subsiding as she got down to business.

"Seven-thirty AM is reveille. The campers have thirty minutes to brush their teeth, etc., until it's time to meet at the dining hall for breakfast. After the tables are cleared, we have morning assembly where we discuss the activities of the day, then everyone participates in a craft of choice.

"We normally have three different stations set up with things that range from painting, to jewelry making, to a new offering this year, cooking."

"Then I see there's morning swim," Cisco interjected as he followed along. "And after that, canoeing and kayaking."

"Yeah. We tend to keep the getting-wet sports together," Hilly confirmed, showing the first signs of animation as she spoke of her curriculum. "Then they all dry off and head back in for lunch at noon, after which they have a free hour to do whatever they please…within reason," she added with a slight twitch upward of her top lip.

Cisco was seeing a way to get through Hilly's barriers. She obviously ate, slept, and breathed her camp, so he had to keep his comments and insights in that realm. "That's when they write letters home, and stare at the sky, daydreaming?"

"Or run around like banshees," she said with a half-hearted grin. "A time for their minds and bodies to soar."

Cisco felt that sharing might loosen her up even more. "I used to spend hours in my yard when I was a kid, staring at the clouds, finding all kinds of things. Animals, trucks, mountain ranges…"

"I used to see faces," she offered back. "Friendly faces in all shapes and sizes."

Huh. Were there not enough smiles in her young life that she had to make them up in the sky? That was a stretch on his part, but he could already tell that Hilly had a cautious way about her that spoke of being hurt sometime in the past.

She went on as if she hadn't just revealed something about herself. "After free time, that's when we have our physical challenges."

"Such as…?" Cisco asked, letting her get away with the subject change. For now.

"We have archery, a ropes course, a climbing tower, gymnastics. This is the time slot, from one-thirty to two-thirty, where I see adding you in twice a week."

Cisco saw the efficacy in that.

She was brainstorming now. "During nice weather, you can hold your classes in the open-air pavilion by the lake. And when it's too cold or windy outside, we can clear an area in here for you. I don't know how long your sessions normally last, but we have one hundred campers, and I was envisioning twenty-five for each of four, half-hour instruction periods."

Cisco thought it over, and wasn't sure he could fit everything he wanted to show and tell into thirty minutes. "Do you have another fitness session during the day? I could do two more, later on."

"We do. One more, from five to six just before dinner," she told him. "After their early afternoon physical challenge is complete, the kids go into the dining hall for drama club, followed by an afternoon swim if its nice out, or some kind of semi-indoor sport if it's not. Next is snack break, and more crafts, then another sports session like they had earlier in the day, with the kids rotating through the various offerings. But you don't have to do the extra classes," she assured him.

"But I want to." Cisco would have to clear it with Chief Ildavorg, but he didn't think the man would have any problems with his impromptu offer. "What if I do two , one-hour sessions with twenty-five campers each day I'm here? Two, one-thirty to two-thirty classes, and two from five to six, Tuesday and Thursday. Would that work for you?"

Hilly scowled. "Well, I…um… That's a generous offer of your time, but… With that commitment, what would you do with yourself to fill your time? Between sessions I mean," she clarified.

Cisco tried not to let his excitement show over possibly being within Hilly's sphere for several hours at a time. "Oh. I think I can keep myself occupied. I've never been a huge drama guy, but I love snacks," he quipped. "And swim and sports outings sound like they could be a lot of fun." What would Hilly look like in a bathing suit? "As for craft hour? I can paint a little, and I throw a mean, clay pot. But if you don't have oils or a wheel, you could still probably use another set of hands to set up supplies, or clean up messes." He attempted an innocent look.

Say yes. Say yes.

Cisco couldn't figure out why it was suddenly so important that Hilly give him this. It must be that he hadn't felt challenged by a woman's indifference in… Well, ever, if he were honest.

He couldn't recall a time where a female hadn't been swayed by his natural charm, and he wasn't about to have his winning streak halted now.

At least that's what he told himself.