Page 50 of Mr. B

Cassandra sighed. “I agree.”

“But…”

“Nick…” She stopped and smiled. “I’ll make sure she gets a guitar.”

“He thinks anything else will detract from her piano playing?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Well, screw that. Not that it’s any of my business.”

Cassandra watched the fire for a moment. “I can totally see why Bailey jumped on the idea of you being her father.”

“Because I’m so cool?”

“That, and…we’ll just go with that.”

“Brilliant?” He held up a finger. “Handsome?”

She nudged him. “Egotistical?”

“No. That’s your ex-husband.”

After another round of music and some roasted marshmallows, the weather cooled quickly. When the wind picked up and blowing embers from the fire threatened to become a hazard, Wes called the evening to a close.

“I need you all to go to your cabins before the rain hits. Tomorrow morning we’ll meet in the mess hall and entertain ourselves inside for a while.”

The kids wandered off toward the cabins, and Lester picked up a shovel. “I’ll get this fire put out.”

“I’ll help.” Wes turned to Cassandra. “You can go back to the cabin and go to bed or whatever.”

“You don’t need help?”

“No, but thank you.”

“Okay. Goodnight then.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Once the fire was out and the chairs were stacked and put away in the boathouse, Wes said goodnight to Lester and headed for the cabin. He was tired, but he smelled of wood smoke, so he went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Freshly showered and wearing only a towel, he was brushing his teeth when Cassandra’s door opened. She gasped and closed the door.

“I’m so sorry.”

Wes spit out toothpaste, rinsed off his brush, and laid it on the counter, then opened Cassandra’s door. “Didn’t we establish that I was going to shower at night?”

She glanced over her shoulder, then kept her back to him. “We also established that you would lock the damn door when you did.”

“I thought you were asleep. And if you weren’t, you should’ve heard the water running.”

She held up her hands. “It’s pouring outside, making it very hard to determine where the falling water is coming from.” She glanced at him again. “Can you…get dressed, please?”

“You’ve seen me in a towel before, and a lot less.”

“That was a long time ago. You were…we were…” She blushed. “Please get dressed.”

He stood for a moment, resisting the urge to take advantage of the situation. Then silently reprimanded himself for going there. He backed into the bathroom. “How about a new rule? Knock before you come barging in.”