Buried Secrets by Kristi Belcamino (best ebook reader for surface pro TXT) 📗

After they’d both showered and changed, Dallas grabbed her cross-body bag and jutted her chin at the door. “Let’s go eat.”

This time, their wanderings led them to a different restaurant on the waterfront.

The table was in the corner away from the other diners.

Soft Persian music filtered out of hidden speakers and the entire patio was strung with small white lights. The tables were dotted with candles casting everything in a warm, flattering glow.

Dallas suddenly wished she’d brought something nicer than cargo pants and a tank top to wear to Egypt. Colton had shaved and his hair was still a little damp. It was brushed back and his white button-up shirt seemed dressy in the candlelight.

“After dinner, I’m going to search online and find proof that the earring found today was from Cleopatra’s time,” Dallas said, her voice brimming with excitement.

Colton smiled at her. “I have no doubt.”

When the server came, Colton took charge. Dallas liked that. She was so used to being the bossy one her whole life. The decisive one. But he was still sweet and deferential asking her, “Would you mind if I ordered for us?”

Colton told the server to bring her favorite dish. “We want what you like, if that’s okay?”

The woman smiled and smoothed her black apron. “I know the perfect thing,” she said.

“What’s this called again?” Colton said, taking the last bite of some Egyptian version of macaroni and cheese combined with lasagna.

“Macaroni Béchamel,” the server said. Her brow creased. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it,” he said.

She smiled and finished filling up their wine glasses. “More wine?”

“Sure!” Dallas said.

At one point, Colton got quiet and stared at her.

“What’s your greatest fear?” he asked.

“I guess it’s a fear,” she said. “Or a phobia. Water.”

“You do realize you now live in Minnesota, land of 10,000 lakes?”

She nodded. “Yup.”

“What do you think caused your phobia about water?” Colton asked.

“I know exactly.”

“Do you care to share?”

She swallowed. She’d never told anyone the story before. What the hell? Colton was the best friend she ever had. She looked around. They were the only two people left on the patio.

They’d killed one wine bottle and were partway through a second one. Dallas couldn’t remember the last time she’d had that much to drink.

She took a deep breath.

“First off,” she said. “I was always ‘big-boned’ as grandma Nelson used to say. So, when my mom insisted I pack my bathing suit for summer camp, it was the last thing on earth a 13-year-old girl wanted to do. I didn’t want anyone to see my baby fat—which is a nice way to say I was chubby. I packed it but I was going to do anything, make up any excuse to get out of the swimming we were supposed to do every day after lunch.”

Dallas told Colton that driving to camp she imagined most of the other girls her age would be svelte blonde girls with shiny hair and perfect teeth and lean bodies. She was right.

Every day after lunch the kids at camp had pool time. The goal was for them to be able to swim the length of the pool on the last day of camp. One by one the other kids did it. When it got close to Dallas’s turn, she was so nervous she was shaking. The kids were starting to laugh as she got into the shallow end and began to traverse the pool by propelling herself along in some awkward combination between dog paddling and frog swimming. It was slow going, but she made it to the other side, exhausted. That’s when she realized she had to go all the way back, too.

At this point her arms and legs ached and her lungs burned. The kids were all laughing at the chubby girl who couldn’t swim.

Giving it all she had, she took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall. But she sank straight to the bottom. As her feet touched the concrete floor ten feet underwater, she began to panic.

She flailed her legs but nothing happened. Then she ran out of air. Although her legs and arms flailed, she made no ground. The edge of her vision began to close in around her. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the pool deck coughing up water. A cute, yet overzealous, camp counselor was pushing on her chest and then bent down to lock his lips on hers. He blew into her mouth hard and the air filled her stomach. More puke and water rocketed up out of her belly spewing into his face and open mouth. He leaned back and gagged as the kids—who now realized she wasn’t dead—began to laugh and jeer.

Even though that had been the last day of summer camp, she was certain she would carry her new nickname with her forever. Hot Lips.

When she was finished, she looked up at Colton.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” he said it in a quiet voice.

“Nobody does. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

He reached over and took her hand in his. “Thank you for trusting me with that story.”

He hid a smile. She frowned and said, “I didn’t know it was a funny story.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Colton said quickly. “I’m laughing at what I’m thinking.”

“Do tell.”

“I was just thinking about how jealous I am of that lifeguard.”

Colton was staring at her intently, no longer smiling or laughing.

Dallas smiled back and tossed her hair. She began an internal dialogue with herself, scolding herself for her behavior and then defending it:

Oh my God. Was she flirting? Yes, why yes, she was, in fact flirting. What of it?

“I was just thinking … you are … well, there’s no other way to put it, really damn beautiful,” Colton said, his voice slurring slightly. “I mean I’m not talking about just how you look, even though, whew, I know I’m not the only guy who thinks this. I’m talking about you. Like who you are. What