ONE MONDAY AFTERNOON Casey was behind the office chopping wood in preparation for the summer rush.
It was warm out and she had stripped down to a thin, faded blue T-shirt. She was wiping the sweat from her face, her hair tied up off her neck, when she heard footsteps behind her. Probably a camper wanting something. She rested the axe against the chopping log and turned around.
“Jesus.” Her heart skidded to a stop in her chest. Standing behind her, hands sunk into the pockets of his low-slung jeans, was Ben.
“You need some water?” he asked. He was wearing a light brown Henley T-shirt that brought out the softness in his eyes.
“I’m okay, just working.” Casey gestured toward the split logs, her mind racing but her voice stuck on pause. What in the world was he doing here?
“Can you take a
