Jolt

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  Mystery writer Bethany Lange wasn’t prepared for the twisting emotions that left her breathless the moment she laid eyes on folk singer sensation Ali Hart. Of course she was flat on her back and looking up and backward at the gorgeous singer, but that didn’t stop her body and heart from bursting into a kaleidoscope of want, need, and lust. Scared at the intensity of her feelings, Bethany does everything she can to avoid Ali at Camp Jacomo, the camp designed specifically for children of lesbian and gay families where Bethany volunteers every summer. The camp director convinces the hottest singer at the moment, Ali Hart, to spend a week teaching the children music to everybody’s delight except Bethany’s. On her last day at camp, Ali approaches Bethany with an offer of friendship, but they both know it’s the prelude to something bolder. Should Bethany take the risk? Does she really believe she can balance her quiet private life with Ali’s outspoken one?

  Jolt

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

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  Jolt

  © 2014 By Kris Bryant. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-249-6

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: September 2014

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Shelley Thrasher and Ashley Bartlett

  Production Design: Stacia Seaman

  Cover Design By Sheri (GraphicArtist2020@hotmail.com)

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my parents for always encouraging me to put my thoughts to paper and being proud of me. I would also like to thank my sister, Patty, for always being there for me during the good times and the bad. Thanks to my incredible friends Debbie, Patty, Rachel, Jennifer, Lucy, and Boz—your support and laughter gets me through all the stress and craziness of my life. To Foxman for flaring up my creative side since we were kids, and to L. Snow for her honesty and advice. I love you all!

  Thank you, Bold Strokes Books, for taking a chance on this story and for my editors, Shelley and Ashley, for getting more out of me than I thought possible.

  To S.B.

  Always…

  Chapter One

  Whenever a conversation turns ugly or someone repeats the same thing several times, I recite poetry in my head. I don’t think it’s rude. People need to get their story out, but I usually grasp what they’re saying the first time they tell me. By the third time, Emily Dickinson and I are deep in conversation.

  It’s early June at Camp Jacomo in middle Missouri, and Val, a camp counselor, and I are struggling with a fence that fell down earlier in the week. Okay, she’s struggling with it, and I’m standing there watching her. She’s about six feet tall, with short, short hair, and looks great in a tool belt. She’ll ask for help when she really needs it and gets offended if anyone tries to help before the words come out of her mouth. Not that she’s allowing them to because she’s been talking nonstop about an altercation one of the counselors got into with a townie last night. That’s not a good thing for the camp’s reputation. Our camp for children of gay and lesbian couples is one of a kind. Because of the sensitivity of our clientele, we have to be careful with the locals, as well as any visitors that come along.

  “Can you believe she said that?” Val asks, wiping her dirty hands on her jeans. Ah, that’s my cue. I pause with Emily and focus on Val again.

  “Have you said anything to Renee?” I ask, falling right back into the conversation, as if I wasn’t just in a carriage with Emily, Death driving us somewhere. I’m concerned for the safety of the camp because we simply don’t need any extra attention.

  “Nah, I’m sure it’ll blow over soon. I don’t want her to worry. You know how it is when the newbies get bored with camp life and camp rules,” she says, shrugging like it’s no big deal after all. She hops on the fence and hands me a water bottle. I don’t need any water because I haven’t exactly worked up a sweat, but I take it anyway. I, too, jump on the newly mended fence and sit next to her.

  “You should probably tell Renee just to give her a heads-up in case someone surprises her with it. The new counselors don’t know how important this is for the kids and their families,” I say. Our conversation ceases as we hear a car driving toward us. “I wonder who that is?”

  “Let’s hope it’s not the sheriff about last night!” Val elbows me in the ribs and knocks me off balance.

  I don’t know a graceful way to fall. In what feels like a awful scene from an old French movie when something bad happens in slow motion, I can see myself falling backward and don’t realize it’s really happening until I land with a not-so-soft thud in the prairie grass below. I’m not quite sure how long I stay on my back, but after my eyelids flutter a few times and I find my breath again, I inventory all moveable body parts to ensure they’re still moveable. Ten fingers, ten toes, two legs, two arms. Yep, all still good. The sharp rocks digging in my back are probably going to leave bruises, but I don’t care. I’m just happy I’m not really hurt. I’m embarrassed and briefly think of a way to retaliate.

  “Oh, my God! Are you okay?” Val’s suddenly by my side looking down at me.

  “I’m fine,” I say, laughter bubbling up. I tend to laugh at the strangest times. Since I’ve had the wind knocked out of me, I’m really not in a hurry to get up.

  “Are you all right?” someone asks. Tilting my head backward, I see a woman leaning forward with a very concerned expression. Her long brown hair hangs over her shoulder, and, for the briefest moment, I have the urge to reach up and touch it. The smell of lavender and vanilla instantly fills my senses. Two of my favorite smells. I stare at the small flecks of gold in her caramel-brown eyes and then focus on red lips full with promise. Within five seconds, my entire body explodes with warmth, excitement, and fear. It’s a welcome feeling after the anguish of the last th
ree years, but extremely unnerving. Realizing I’m staring at her and not answering, I mentally slap myself on the forehead and sit up.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” I’m surprisingly quiet, examining bits of grass in my long blond hair and some dirt on my leg. How did that happen? It wasn’t as if I rolled on the ground when I got there. Or did I? How could I have possibly gotten “Pig-Pen” dirty from a simple fall? “I probably shouldn’t have been sitting on the fence,” I say. I almost shake my head at the stupid things coming out of my mouth, but I tend to ramble when I’m nervous. Especially around beautiful women, and this woman’s pretty much straight from my list of everything I’ve ever looked for in one. When she reaches out to help me up, I almost pass out again, this time from glee.

  Before I reach out to the stranger, Val’s yanking me to my feet.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to fall.” Val can’t keep herself from laughing. I can’t blame her. I’d do the same thing. She hugs me, then turns to introduce herself to the beautiful stranger on her right. “I’m Val and this klutz here is Bethany.” She grins.

  I want to slip away because I’m not only embarrassed about falling, but because Val has called me a klutz. So much for first impressions.

  “I’m Ali. Ali Hart. Here to see Renee and Darren Thomas,” she says with a smile. A perfect smile. One with straight, white teeth and confidence. “Am I headed in the right direction?”

  She obviously hopes one of us will help her, but it’ll have to be Val because I’m a mess. I’m about ready to go find Emily and check out of this conversation, but Val quickly saves me.

  “The camp is just over the hill there.” Val points. “We work there, too. Renee and Darren are up at the main cabin. You can’t miss it.”

  “I can give you a ride if you want. Maybe somebody at the camp can look you over in case you bumped your head,” Ali says.

  When she turns to stare at me, I can actually feel my heart hammering. Now that I’m standing, I get a look at the rest of her. She’s about five feet nine, roughly four inches taller than me. She’s slender and has skin as pale and probably as smooth as marble. She’s wearing jeans and a black short-sleeved blouse, her brown hair pulled back in a single clip. I can’t take my eyes off her hair. It’s so long and wavy, and again I find myself wanting to wrap my hands in it, the strong desire taking me by surprise. Ali Hart is absolute perfection.

  “Thank you, no,” I say. “We have a few things here to finish up before lunch.” Yeah, like I’m a lot of help, but I can’t be around her. Not yet. I need to collect myself first.

  “Well, then I’m sure I’ll see you both later.” She walks back to her car.

  “Holy crap, Bethy. Do you know who that is?” Val elbows me again, and I’m seriously tempted to break her arm at this point. I’m thinking, yes, a very beautiful woman who has just taken my breath away. “She’s like a famous singer. I hear her music on the radio all the time. What’s she doing here?” she whispers to me out of the corner of her mouth.

  Ali waves a quick good-bye and puts the car in drive. As she passes us, she smiles when her eyes find mine, and something so foreign, so different, so exciting fills me. Maybe I’m reading too much into her glance, but for the first time in almost three years—maybe for the first time in my life—I feel a jolt.

  Chapter Two

  Lunch on the weekends is usually around one, but I can’t muster up the courage to head to the kitchen knowing Ali Hart is there. A part of me wants to run and absorb everything I can about her, but my inner wallflower holds me back. Who is Ali Hart? Val mentioned that she’s a famous singer, and something in the back of my mind tells me I know her name. How does Renee know her? Not that I expect Renee to consult me on the camp’s daily activities, but a heads-up when a beautiful woman is expected sure would be nice.

  I decide on an apple and a yogurt for lunch that I scavenge from my tiny refrigerator and head out to the porch. I really need to work on my book. Book four in my murder-mystery series is due at the end of summer, and I haven’t given it the love and attention it needs. I’ve also been working on something new that I find therapeutic, but it too requires serious time and effort. I’m not a great oral communicator, but I can write. When I’m angry, I write. When I’m lonely, I write. When I’m hurt, I write. My editor, Tom, read some of my gibberish and asked that I continue sending him chapters. So now I’m committed to two separate works. One is fiction, the other I wish was. As hard as I try, I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to Ali and our first meeting. I groan with embarrassment. Why was I so tongue-tied around her? Why didn’t I say something clever? I’m that girl who always thinks of the perfect thing to say several hours later, when the dust has settled and nobody is around to hear. I head back inside and fire up my laptop to Google her. I’m not proud of my blatant stalking.

  After reading about her very public life and staring at photos for about ten minutes, I can feel my eyes burn. I need to sleep. I haven’t slept since yesterday morning, and I’m going to need some rest before the kids show up tomorrow. Some nights I keep writing until the words stop. I don’t mind though. It’s my way of life. I close my laptop and slide it on the coffee table. I’m asleep in about ten seconds.

  My cell phone startles me awake, and I hold it in my hand for a second until I get my bearings. “Hello?” I mumble, knowing I sound like hell, but sleep is heaven, and whoever’s calling better have a very good reason for waking me up.

  “Will you be joining us for dinner?” Renee asks.

  “What time is it?” I’m slurring my words.

  “Do you mean dinner or what time is it now?” Renee used to be a schoolteacher and is forever correcting all of us. I have a degree in English from Northwestern University and feel like I’m still in grade school around her.

  “Yes.” She knows what I mean and I know what she means.

  “Dinner is at seven thirty. In roughly twenty-five minutes. Can we expect you? And how are you feeling? Val told us about your fall,” she said.

  “Did she mention that she pushed me, too?” I ask, my ten-year-old self shoving past the adult in me. I shake my head and quickly change the subject. “Who all will be there for dinner?”

  “The gang. And our guest, Ali. So can we expect you?” she asks again.

  A part of me wants to race around and get ready, while the other part wants to stay hidden on this couch. I know what I have to do though.

  “I’ll be there. Need anything?” I ask out of respect.

  “Just your beautiful self. See you in a bit,” she says.

  I snort in response and hang up. Before total panic sets in, I mentally race to the closet and pick out something nice, but not too nice. It always takes a few seconds for my body to catch up to my mind. By the time I’m actually standing at the closet, I’m down to twenty minutes. I don’t have time to wash my hair, but I do have time for a quick shower to wash the sleep and dust off. I grab a pair of white linen shorts and a light-green sleeveless blouse and head for the bathroom. I’m very much a girly girl. I wear jeans only when absolutely necessary. My wardrobe is all skirts, blouses, slacks, and heels or sandals, and I’m pretty confident that I’m the only one at camp who wears Victoria’s Secret thongs. When I’m down in the dumps, a nice outfit always cheers me up.

  I decide to keep my hair down instead of throwing it up in a ponytail or a bun. I have surfer-white hair, even though I don’t surf, and light-green eyes, thanks to my Danish and Irish heritage. Renee’s granddaughter thinks I’m a mermaid, and, when nobody’s around us, I pretend that I am. She’s in awe of me. I’d like to keep it that way for a few more years. I forgo any makeup because spending the last week in the sun has given me a nice glow. I know we aren’t supposed to be in the sun anymore because of skin cancer, but I live in Chicago and hide in a high-rise ten months out of the year. Feeling the sun warm my skin is incredible, and I just can’t give that up yet. Plus with a tan, I don’t have to mess with makeup, and that’s fine with me.


  I head to the main cabin, eager to be around Ali again, but excited, too. From my online searching I learned that Ali is from the East Coast, comes from a large family, and has a girlfriend. The girlfriend part bums me out, but it doesn’t surprise me.

  “Look who decided to join us!” I hear Rob, the camp’s head counselor, say as I open the screen door to Renee’s kitchen. He holds his wineglass high up in the air to toast me and winks. Several other counselors cheer so I bow playfully to my audience. I see Ali and Renee off in one corner. I steal a glance at Ali and smile. She really is beautiful. She’s wearing a long silky skirt that almost reaches the floor and a white short-sleeved blouse. Her hair is down like mine, but hers is several inches longer. She looks more like a mermaid than I do. I glance around to find somebody to talk to before she realizes that I’m staring.

  “Sorry, I fell asleep,” I explain to everybody as they gaze at me expectantly. Apparently, somebody said something to me that I didn’t hear. I’m sure I’ve said the right thing, but Ali’s presence momentarily distracted me so I’m not sure.

  “We were worried that maybe you had a concussion,” Rob says. “Heard you had quite the spill.”

  I know he’s joking, but I’m still embarrassed. I can feel the color heat my cheeks and I shake my head, recalling my afternoon.

  “It wasn’t a big deal. Val accidentally pushed me. I’m fine, but I’m sure I owe her a bruise or two.” I glare at Val. She blows me a kiss and tilts her wineglass at me. I sit next to Rob when I suddenly feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. Without turning, I know that Ali is sitting directly behind me on the bar stool.

  “Hello.” Her voice is quiet and warm.

  I turn around shyly, hoping she doesn’t see the chill bumps across my bare arms. I’m amazed my physical reaction toward her. I’ve never been a sexual person. I never thought the explosive passionate interludes in books or movies were real. Yes, I’ve felt passion, but not to the point where I forget about my surroundings. This is why I’m completely thrown off by Ali. I’ve said what, three words to her, and I can’t seem to get ahold of myself. My stomach is quivering, and when I look at her, I want to touch her. I want to know if her body is as smooth as it looks. I want to feel her curves and run my hands down her tiny waist and skim over her flaring hips. Again, I’m suddenly aware of how quiet the room is, and I know I need to say something because in less than a second, it’ll become uncomfortable.