Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Lavender

I sit at a picnic table, surrounded by a small group of six- and seven-year-olds. The colorful chaos of pipe cleaners, glitter glue, and various crafts promising a morning filled with creativity for my eager group. Watching the tiny hands reach for the brightest colors, their chatter bubbling like a brook after spring rain, brought a gentle smile to my face. We're working on a craft project, making colorful friendship bracelets out of embroidery floss.

"Miss Lavender, look at mine," Emma, a sprightly girl with pigtails exclaims, holding up her bracelet proudly. "I used all the colors of the rainbow."

I grin, taking the bracelet and admiring the careful knots and bright hues. "That's beautiful, Emma. I love how sparkly it is."

As I help another camper untangle a particularly stubborn knot, my gaze wanders to the lake, where Sinclair is teaching a group of four- and five-year-olds the basics of swimming. He's standing waist-deep in the water, his bare torso glistening in the sunlight, and I feel my heart skip a beat at the sight.

He's patient and gentle with the kids, his voice carrying across the water as he encourages them to kick their legs and blow bubbles. The children giggle and splash, their little faces alight with joy and excitement, and I can't help but smile at the scene.

One little boy, his blond hair plastered to his forehead, clings to Sinclair's arm, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm scared, Mr. Sin," he whimpers, his bottom lip trembling.

Sinclair kneels down in the water, bringing himself to the boy's level. "It's okay to be scared, buddy," he says softly, his voice warm and reassuring. "But I promise, I won't let anything happen to you. We'll take it slow, okay?"

The boy nods, his tiny hand gripping Sinclair's fingers tightly.

I feel a tug on my sleeve and look down to see Emma holding up another bracelet. "Can you help me tie it, Miss Lavender?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

I shake myself out of my reverie, focusing back on the task at hand. "Of course, sweetie. Let's see what we can do."

As I work with the campers, my mind keeps drifting back to Sinclair, to the way he looks in the water, his muscles rippling and his smile bright. It's not just his physical beauty that draws me in, though that's certainly a factor. It's the way he interacts with the kids, the patience and kindness he shows, the way he makes each one feel special and valued.

I steal another glance at the lake, just in time to see Sinclair scoop up a little girl and toss her playfully into the water, her shrieks of laughter echoing across the shore. He's grinning from ear to ear and I feel a warmth spread through my chest at the sight.

"Miss Lavender, are you okay?" Sophie asks, her brow furrowed in concern. "Your face is all red."

I feel my cheeks heat up even more, and I duck my head, focusing intently on the bracelet in my hands. "I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little warm, that's all."

But as I sneak another peek at Sinclair, his bare chest gleaming in the sun and his laughter carrying on the breeze, I know that it's more than just the heat that's making my heart race. It's the realization that I'm falling for him, hard and fast and completely, and the thought is both thrilling and terrifying all at once.

But for now, I push those feelings aside, focusing on the happy campers and the colorful bracelets taking shape beneath our fingers. There will be time to sort out my heart later. For now, I'm content to bask in the warmth of the sun and the joy of the moment, stealing glances at the man who's slowly but surely stealing my heart.

The rain comes out of nowhere, a sudden downpour that drenches the campgrounds and forces everyone inside. As the campers scamper into the main hall, laughing and shaking water from their hair, I can't help but feel a sense of relief. The indoors offer a break from the constant activities and a chance to really engage with the campers in a different setting.

We decide to organize an impromptu craft session, pulling out boxes of markers, colored paper, glue, and everything else we could find. I find myself in my element, surrounded by the excited chatter of the campers and the colorful chaos of their creations. And as a bonus, Sinclair is with me during this allotted time, his presence a comforting warmth by my side.

"Miss Lavender, can you help me with this?" One of the younger campers, a little boy with big brown eyes, tugs at my sleeve, pulling me back from my thoughts.

I turn to him with a smile, kneeling down to his level. "Of course, what are we making?" I ask, settling down beside him on the makeshift mat on the floor.

"A spaceship," he declares enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

As we cut and paste, my fingers guiding his small hands, I can't resist stealing glances at Sinclair, who's across the room, laughing as he helps a group of campers turn a giant cardboard box into a time machine. His hair falls in a casual way around his face, and every so often, he pushes it back with a paint-smudged hand, his smile never fading.

I feel a flutter in my chest as I watch him, his easy rapport with the children and his genuine enthusiasm for their projects making him even more attractive in my eyes. It's a side of him I haven't seen before, a softer, more playful side that makes my heart skip a beat.

"Impressive," I hear a female voice say, and when I turn around, it's McKay. She's watching him with a thoughtful expression, her head tilted to the side. "My brother has never been this . . . happy."

"Why are you surprised? He seems like a natural with the kids, plus, he's in Kentbury. No one can stay grumpy for long," I say, shrugging my shoulders with a smile.

McKay raises an eyebrow, a wistful look in her eyes. "My brothers have always been hyperfocused on work and keeping my father happy. I don't think I ever saw them do anything that was just for fun—or laugh, for that matter."

"I'm glad he's learning that life is more than spreadsheets and money," I say softly, my gaze drifting back to him.

"Somehow I think you have a lot to do with it," McKay says, a knowing smile on her lips. "Thank you for that."

I feel my cheeks warm, and I wave my hand dismissively. "I didn't do anything," I protest, but the flutter in my chest tells a different story.

McKay winks at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It'll be our little secret," she says, before moving away to join another group of campers.

I watch her go, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, before turning my attention back to the children, helping them put the finishing touches on their creations.

As the craft session winds down and parents start arriving to pick up their kids, I help gather the scattered supplies, my mind still buzzing with McKay's words. I'm so lost in thought that I don't notice Sinclair approaching until he's right beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine.

"The rain might be a hassle, but I think today was good for the kids," he starts, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest.

I nod, handing him a steaming mug of coffee. "It was good for us, too," I add, my voice soft and sincere. "It's nice to see you in action, Sin. You're really good with them, in and out of the pool."

The compliment catches him off guard, and I see a flicker of surprise in his eyes before he ducks his head, a shy smile on his lips. "Oh, it was nothing special. I used to do it sometimes when I wasn't training and the pool on the other side had little kids learning how to swim," he says, his voice humble and self-effacing.

I realize then that this guy doesn't like compliments, that he's not used to being praised for anything other than his work. Maybe that's something he'll have to learn with time, to accept the kind words and believe in his own worth.

"Ready to go home?" he asks, changing the subject. Then, as if realizing his slip, he adds, "Well, the B&B. This weekend we can go and look at some properties. Henrik says there's a place close to his ready to go on the market."

I raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile on my face. "We're not buying a house together," I remind him, my heart skipping a beat at the thought.

Sinclair grins, his eyes sparkling impishly as he leans in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "I'll buy it, you'll just have to visit it with me," he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

I feel my breath catch in my throat, my skin tingling at his proximity. It's a dangerous game we're playing, this flirtation that dances on the edge of something more, but I can't bring myself to pull away, to put distance between us.

Instead, I meet his gaze, my own eyes shining with a mix of challenge and invitation. "We'll see about that," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Sinclair's grin softens, his eyes darkening with an emotion that makes my knees go weak. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he leans in, his hand coming up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over my skin.

I feel my breath catch in my throat, my eyes fluttering closed as he closes the distance between us, his lips brushing against mine in a featherlight kiss. It's a tender, almost reverent gesture, a silent promise of something more, and I feel my heart swell with a rush of emotion.

As he pulls back, his forehead resting against mine, I can see the same wonder and longing reflected in his eyes, the same yearning for a future that's still unwritten. "We definitely need to go home," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and let him take my hand, our fingers intertwining as we make our way out of the main hall and into the misty afternoon.