Chapter 13

Life Lessons According to Camryn:

One must handle stress like a dog; if you can’t eat it or play with it, pee on it and walk away.

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Troy stared at the golf ball on the green in front of him, then clear across the vast grounds of hills and a manmade water reservoir to where it was supposed to land. No way was this going to end well. He’d never golfed a day in his life. Never wanted to.

Whatever. He aligned his club, reared back, and swung.

The ball bounced off a neighboring oak and straight at Justin’s face. He ducked and looked at Troy as if they’d escaped a near-death experience.

Fisher shook his head. “Nice shot, man. At least you hit something. I can’t find my ball.”

Fisher was talking to him now. This was new.

Troy scratched his head. “Whose idea was it to go golfing, anyway?” They were only on the fifth hole and collectively their score was higher than a basketball game.

Justin pointed an accusatory finger at his dad.

Tim shrugged. “You guys said sure when I asked.”

Troy laughed. “I thought you meant golfing on the Wii. We’re gonna kill someone out here.”

At least the day was a pleasant one. Bright blue sky, mild temperatures, and zilch by way of humidity. The air seemed thinner here, probably due to the mountains and elevation, but once he’d gotten used it, he appreciated the differing scents and sounds. Hawks squawking, toads croaking, pine and snow-tinged breezes despite it being summer.

Tim grinned and set a nine iron back in his bag. “Thank goodness. I hate golfing. Bernice bought these clubs for me thinking it would be good exercise. Want to have a beer in the clubhouse instead?”

That idea was a unanimous yes.

They headed back in silence. After ordering drinks at the bar and sitting at a polished dark wood table in the corner, they laughed, agreeing never to repeat the golfing experience. The clubhouse reeked of prestige, making Troy uncomfortable. Dark wainscoting walls, brass fixtures and green glass amidst brown leather seats and framed art. But the people with him weren’t snobs and he knew it, so he forced his shoulders to relax.

“I still can’t believe my son is getting married.”

Fisher set down his beer. “I tried to warn him, sir.”

Tim looked at Troy with an affable smile. “I guess you’ll be next, then. You and Camryn seem like a nice couple.”

Troy choked trying to swallow. Couple of what? He wiped his mouth on a napkin, eyeing Fisher’s expression of confusion, so Troy backpedaled. “One doesn’t just propose to Camryn Covic. He must let her think it’s her idea and give her the control.”

A corner of Fisher’s mouth lifted. It was a start. Problem averted.

Tim grinned and took a sip from his Scotch. “You know your woman well.”

Camryn wasn’t his woman, and he used to think he knew her well. Until that kiss today.

When Heather had told him about what this Maxwell guy had said to Camryn, Troy's first instinct was anger. No matter how good a woman was or wasn’t in bed, a gentleman never divulged the truth. After he'd gotten to thinking about it—and he’d tried really hard not to—he figured Camryn was wound too tight to ever let herself go and enjoy sex. Appearances could be deceiving, though. Guess he’d never really know. Regardless, a guy didn’t tell a woman such harsh, hurtful things. No two people were perfectly matched. If Maxwell hadn’t brought out her seductive traits, then it was a good thing he was gone.

But after kissing her in the Horton’s yard, Troy learned, like a smack upside his head, she had a whole other side to her. All cool and nice and controlled on the surface. Under that…

Well, she wasn’t a damn fish, that was for sure.

He loved women. The way they smelled, laughed, felt. How they looked first thing in the morning, the devious way they wrapped men around their fingers. Females were the last great misunderstood mysteries to the world. Making love was one of life’s true treasures. He’d been with a lot of women, and he wasn’t ashamed of it.

None of them had stopped his heart dead like Camryn had done earlier. None of them had stunned him enough to render him speechless.

Hell, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious in exploring that more. This was Camryn, though. He wouldn’t come out alive.

“Well,” Tim said on a sigh, “I’m just glad you all could come. Bernice has been so happy planning this wedding. She always wanted a daughter.”

Justin drank from his bottle. “Thanks for the reminder, Dad.”

Fisher lifted his glass. “Thank you for having us. This took a lot of…guts.”

Justin rolled his lips over his teeth in an obvious attempt to refrain from laughing, and somehow held back. “What do you guys say to horseback riding tomorrow? Jessie, my best friend growing up, has a rach at the edge of town. She’s been on me to bring you by.”

Fisher shrugged. “Sure. We can put the family in traction for the ceremony.”

For that, Justin laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of just us with the girls.”

Troy tried to picture Camryn on a horse and couldn’t. “FYI, Justin, we’ve never been this…rural.” Troy and the Covics were used to suburban life. Fences and subdivisions, not wide open ranges, forests, and mountains. He was pretty certain the closest they’d gotten to horseback riding had been a plastic pony ride at the State Fair.

“Oh relax,” Fisher said. “It’ll be fine. Emily wants a pony. She’d love riding.”

Justin pulled out his cell from his back pocket. “Horseback riding it is,” he said while texting. After a few moments, he got an incoming response. “Jessie says the day after tomorrow would be better. You guys will love her.”

What Troy was going to love was the look on Cam’s face when she found out he’d agreed to this. Moreover, watching her mount a horse. He shook his head and grinned. “Cam’s gonna kill me.”

Fisher eyed him speculatively. “Since when do you give a damn what a woman thinks? You can handle Cam.”

Justin glared at Fisher in a clear you-done-gone-crazy. “Have you met your sister? Attila the Hun is less intimidating.”

Tim sat back as if enjoying the show. “This almost makes me miss being young.”