Flirting with Fire: A Summer Camp Swingers novel

“You’re right,” Allie said with genuine contrition. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve been so flippant about it— about them.”

“Mmm. Especially when you might be one of them.”

“I— I… hadn’t thought about it like that. And you’re right, I did think of them as characters. Still, that’s no excuse. It’s just— I mean… I guess I was sort of living vicariously. I liked hearing about your girlfriends. Still do, I guess.”

“That’s fine. As long as you understand they’re real people, with real emotions.”

Her expression softened, and she snorted a laugh. She’d heard my speech before. We fell silent as the friction between us gradually faded.

“I guess I should be grateful,” she said at last. “I mean, I’m not as young as your usual… um… friend with benefits. And I’m definitely not in the same league, looks-wise—”

“I don’t care about looks. Well, I do,” I admitted, “but not as much as you think. And I definitely don’t care about age—sagging or stretch marks or anything else. You should know that by now. Besides, I’ve met twenty-year-olds who weren’t half as exciting as you.” I paused to let that sink in. “I care about people, not bodies.”

“Yeah, I know. But… I guess…” She sighed.

“Listen,” I said softly, “quit obsessing about your looks. None of us are perfect. The only thing that matters is, ‘Are we perfect for each other?’ Right now, the answer is yes. At least, I hope it is.”

She nodded and sighed again, admission instead of defeat.

All of a sudden the door chime sounded from the direction of the security panel in the master bedroom. Allie’s head came up, and I checked my watch.

“Too early,” I said. “It’s probably Emily.”

“Time for a snack?”

“I think so.”

Seconds stretched into hours, until the chime sounded again.

“Oh, thank God,” Allie breathed.

“Nah, we weren’t in any danger.” I shot her a grin that was more relief than anything. “Although… we should probably get cleaned up.” I checked my watch again. “We still have time to shower together, if you’re interested.” She was. “And then we need to talk to the girls.”

“About spending the night? I’m sure they’ll be okay with it.”

“Probably. Then I can call Christy, while you run home and grab what you need.”

“Wait, I have a better idea. Why don’t we all go out to dinner?”

“Sure, family night.”

“Or family date night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you can buy us dinner, and I’ll pay you back.” She made a sweeping gesture at her nude body. “All night… with this.”

Chapter 7

My girls were fine with another sleepover, and Allie’s were more than fine with it. They hadn’t enjoyed the night without A/C any more than she had. They were also excited when they realized she wasn’t wearing her swimsuit under her towel wrap.

“You’re gonna do it?” Madison said.

“I’m gonna try.”

“You’ll like it,” Carly added. “And you won’t get weird tan lines.”

“Especially when you switch suits.” Madison shuddered with tween revulsion.

“They aren’t that bad,” Allie laughed.

“They’re pretty bad. I mean, I look so dumb when I wear a tracksuit, all white in the middle.”

Emily scrunched her nose, her version of Madison’s shudder.

Allie scoffed. “When’s the last time you saw me in a Juicy tracksuit? Uh-uh, no.”

“Why not?” Susie said. “Our mom wears ’em all the time.”

And spends a fortune on them, I added. It was her money, but a $400 tracksuit? Then again, my business suits cost $1,000 or more, and I had a closet full of them.

“Because she’s built for them,” Allie was saying. “I’m not.”

“Why not? ’Cause your tummy isn’t flat?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I cut in. “Clothes don’t make the person.” I suppressed a wince and waited for lightning to strike, but the sartorial gods didn’t bother with the likes of me. (They had bigger things to worry about, like whatever Elton John was thinking up.)

“Right,” Allie said. “I’m the same person on the inside, no matter what I wear.”

“You still look weird,” Carly muttered.

“I think she looks fantastic,” I said.

“Yeah, but you’re a grown-up. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “Things were different when I was an eight-year-old girl.”

Carly started to congratulate herself before she realized what I’d said.

“That’s okay,” Susie said to her. “He does the same to me. Ugh! So annoying.”

“Well then,” I said to them, “I’d better make it up to you.”

Carly narrowed her eyes, but Emily perked up.

“Launch Dad?”

“You got it.”

The dogs sensed the girls’ excitement and leapt to their feet, tails a-wagging and tags a-jangling.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Emily cried.

Four towels flew in a spray of colors as the girls streaked toward the pool. Three sets of claws scraped the flagstones when the dogs bolted after them. Seven bodies splashed into the water before I even started to move. Sometimes I hated getting older.