Must Have Been Love (Camp Firefly Falls Book 20) Read online

  Must Have Been Love

  Camp Firefly Falls, Volume 20

  Tragen Moss

  Published by Tragen Moss, 2018.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  MUST HAVE BEEN LOVE

  First edition. June 15, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Tragen Moss.

  ISBN: 978-1386283416

  Written by Tragen Moss.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Must Have Been Love (Camp Firefly Falls, #20)

  About this Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  About the Author

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  Further Reading: His Accidental Boyfriend

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  About this Book

  Pretending to still be a happy couple isn’t easy. But it’s even harder to pretend you’re not in love anymore when you are.

  WHEN WORKAHOLIC, SUIT-and-tie wearing Miller Johnson, and big, burly mechanic Brandon Fuller break up four days before a family wedding, they agree to attend the gathering as a couple to not cast a shadow on the bride and groom’s big day. The wedding, a three-day event, is being held at Camp Firefly Falls, and they’ll have to bunk together in a cabin and attend all the parties as if they are still a happy couple—something neither of them is looking forward to.

  Especially when neither one of them knows exactly why they broke up in the first place.

  It must have been love, but it’s over now.

  Or is it?

  Author’s Note: The one place these two never had problems was in the bedroom—don’t expect that to change just because they are “broken up.” Seriously, these two are hot and heavy and you might want to wear welder’s gloves when you’re holding your eReader.

  Chapter One

  Brandon

  I DON'T WANT TO BREAK up with Miller Johnson.

  I'm not sure why I said I did. He asked if it was over, and I panicked and said "probably."

  That was Tuesday. It's Thursday now and we're trapped together in a rental car climbing the Berkshire Mountains on our way to my brother's wedding at Camp Firefly Falls.

  "Thanks for doing this. Coming with me," I say, not taking my eyes off the road.

  He clears his throat. "Of course."

  We didn't think it was the right time to announce our breakup and agreed to attend the family wedding together without telling anyone we were over. No shadow on my brother’s perfect day. No drama.

  On Monday, I'm moving out of our condo.

  Fuck.

  I don’t even understand how we got here, to this very friendly breakup like no feelings are hurt. Like we’re both so mature. Like it’s no big deal.

  He takes a drink of water and offers me the bottle. "Thirsty?"

  Our hands brush when I take it from him. The sparks are there. Just like always.

  This is going to be the longest weekend of my life. It's going to be torture. Everything we do, in the back of my mind it will be, "this is the last time we have breakfast together...this is the last time we sit next to each other at dinner..."

  I’m not even that guy. Sentimental never suited me. I don’t look too far ahead, and I never, ever look behind me. The past is gone. All we have is the now.

  And right now is not looking good.

  This is going to suck, and as bad as it gets, I'm not going to want it to end. Because then it will be over.

  I don't want to break up with Miller Johnson.

  I never did.

  He's got his laptop out. I don't know how he doesn't get carsick, but he's working. He's always working.

  That's the problem. Or one of them.

  Probably not the only problem, if I’m being honest. But I guess I don’t have to be, do I? Because it doesn’t matter. No use dissecting the remains of a relationship neither of us is going to grieve.

  I listen to his keys tapping and wonder if I'll miss the sound. Probably. It’s been a constant white noise in my life for a year.

  "Are you all right?" he asks me.

  I’m surprised by his question, but realize my fingers are clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. I'm about to say yes, but instead I say, "No. Are you?"

  "Not really." He closes his laptop. "I don't want to cast a shadow on Steve's wedding. You're his best man and they are so happy. I don't want to ruin it. But this isn't going to be easy."

  "My family is going to know something is wrong. I don't think either of us are good enough actors to play this out."

  He blows out a breath. "We still care about each other. We're still friends. Let's just concentrate on that."

  Miller and I didn’t start as friends. That came later. We were a one-night stand that lasted a year.

  Not that it hasn’t been a good year.

  I pull into the gravel driveway that leads to the summer camp Steve and Leah rented for four days. It's not your ordinary sleep-away camp. It's been outfitted for adults to rediscover their youth or something. When we first heard about the venue, we were excited. Miller likes volleyball and canoeing. I like zip-lining and hiking. And we were both excited about skinny dipping in Lake Waawaatassi. Now it feels like everything is forced. Just last week, I was imagining taking him deep into the woods, pushing him up against a tree, and sucking him off, hard and deep while he worried whether or not anyone would see or hear us. It's been too long since I've pushed him out of his comfort zone. Mr. Suit and Tie used to need me, his rough, dirty mechanic, to remind him that life isn't all spreadsheets and financial forecasts. He used to dig the way I could fuck him until he forgot about business. Hell, there were times I think he forgot his name when I was fucking him.

  Dammit. Now I’m thinking about the way we fuck. There’s never been a problem there. That’s why we lasted as long as we did.

  I park and my brother Steve jogs out to the car as we're getting our bags from the trunk. He hugs us both and bounces on the balls of his feet while he tells us about all the shit he's got planned. Tonight is guys’ night. The women are all coming back tomorrow. I hope he knows I didn't hire a stripper for him. I tried to find one, but the camp is in Bumfuck. I did arrange a sweet surprise for him. He wouldn’t have wanted to watch a stripper any more than I want to watch one.

  The camp is pretty damn awesome. Steve points to the main lodge where the older relatives will be staying and where there are indoor activities if the weather takes a shit on the plans. There's a softball field, a green field for other sports, tennis courts and volleyball. He pulls out a map and circles our cabin and points out how to find the fire pit. I hear jet skis and see the lake through the trees. The boathouse is where the bar will be stocked and where the reception and parties happen. Tomorrow is a BBQ, rehearsal, and a party. Saturday is the wedding and reception. Sunday we all go home.

  Miller and I head to the cabin. I'm expecting bunk beds and sleeping bags like summer camps I went to as a kid, so I'm surprised when he unlocks our door and we find our cabin is really fucking nice. It’s air conditioned, which is a surprise, but it still feels rustic.

  The double bed in the middle makes my heart seize up in my chest. No bunk beds here.

/>   Tonight will be the first time we sleep in the same bed since Tuesday. This weekend will be the last time we sleep in the same bed.

  Jesus, I’m annoying myself. I throw my bag down. "I need a drink."

  "Yeah, me too."

  We find the groomsman and a few male relatives and friends on the grass near the dock where chairs have been set out and coolers are overflowing. I grab two bottles and we sit in two Adirondack chairs near my brother. The weather is perfect. Warm in the sun with a nice breeze. There are water toys set up in the water, and an island in middle of the lake is visible. I guess you can canoe to it.

  "You're just in time, little bro," Steve says. "Everyone is giving me their best relationship advice. What you got for me?"

  I catch Miller's gaze colliding with mine. He's so fucking gorgeous. I love the way he looks in his suits and ties, but damn, here in the sunshine, kicked back and wearing casual clothes, my mouth starts watering. He didn't shave this morning, we flew out too early, so a light scruff of black covers his cheeks. His black hair is travel mussed instead of perfectly groomed, and as he takes a drink of his beer, his throat works the liquid down, and I imagine his mouth on me. Working me down his throat. Swallowing everything I give him.

  My brother punches my arm. "Dude. Quit eye-fucking your boyfriend and answer the question."

  I play it off with a what can you do shrug, but I don't have any good relationship advice. I didn't even know how much I wanted this relationship until I lost it. "Communicate, I guess."

  Something we didn't do very well. Because where I thought we were working toward something, my boyfriend thought we were roommates who fucked.

  Chapter Two

  Miller

  I'M DRUNK.

  Not as drunk as I'd like to be. I'd like to be passed out or maybe drunk enough to do something I'll likely regret in the morning. Instead I'm just pleasantly trashed.

  My eyes are stinging from the campfire smoke. I can't remember the last time I was at a bonfire. The smoke, the beer, and the stories are all getting worse as the night goes on, but pretending to be normal feels better than pretending to be okay with losing everything I hadn't given enough consideration to knowing that I wanted.

  This beer really is awful. It has an afternote of paste. Like I’ve been licking envelopes.

  "It's time for your surprise, bro," Brandon tells the groom, and he's got a blindfold in his hand. Their cousin Matt ties Steve's hands behind his back and he's starting to fidget.

  "What did you do, man? I told you no chicks. Fuck. Tell me you didn't hire a stripper. Fuck, Leah is going to kill me." He tries to get up, but someone pushes him back into his seat. “What the hell is the use of having a gay brother if he still hires a stripper?” he yells.

  "It's your bachelor party, man. Calm down and enjoy yourself." Brandon grins, his brown hair picking up ginger highlights from the fire. It always amazes me how it changes color in the light.

  God, he's so sexy when he's doing something sneaky. I love and hate his surprises. The way he worries me and gets me all worked up and then "forces" me to do something I normally wouldn't. And the list of what I wouldn't do or even think of doing a year ago was a lot longer than it is now. Brandon has really helped me loosen up. I'm still pretty uptight most of the time, but less than I used to be. A lot less.

  Who is going to remind me to live a little now?

  It's my own fault. Why did I throw the word "breakup" out there? Once it's out, it can't just be shoved back into the box. When Brandon answered, "probably," I knew it was over. I think I covered my devastation well. I don't want him to worry or feel bad. He wants out and I respect that. I have too much pride to beg him to stay.

  "So, big brother, it's the last night to sow your wild oats. Tomorrow, your last day of bachelorhood, will be filled with family and friends and errands and last-minute problems. So, I wanted to give you one last fling," Brandon says, though he's addressing those of us around the campfire as if he were the narrator in a play and we are his audience. He's got a big personality, a booming voice, and a natural sense of fun. He also has the body to go with it. Brandon is big and burly, barrel chested and thick everywhere. The first time I met him at the club, I wanted to climb him like a mountain. Surprising everyone who knows me, I took him home with me and did. He didn't leave my bed for two days.

  And then he stayed a year longer.

  We are...were...a very odd couple. He can fix anything, but he's best with cars. He puts in his time at work and doesn't think about his job again until he's under a hood the next day. Me? I think about my job endlessly unless my boyfriend reminds me to live. At first, that meant sweat and sex until I was boneless and mindless. And then we started doing other things together. Cooking meals, going hiking, traveling. All things I forgot I liked until he reminded me life exists offline and off my computer. And always still, the sweat and the sex.

  Steve is really fighting his confinement now. Two guys are holding him down. That's when I see Leah sneak out of the woods.

  I should have known Brandon wouldn't hire a stripper. He knows his brother. Knows he's happy and would never screw that up for him. Leah is already a sister to us...him.

  Shit. I hadn't thought about the fact that I'll be losing his family, too. I don’t have one of my own, but the Fullers adopted me early on.

  Steve kicks out and makes contact with Brandon’s shin, but that only makes my giant grin bigger. "Look, asshole. Untie me. This bachelor party is over. I don't want a stripper. I only want my wife."

  "She's not your wife yet," Brandon says, but nods to Leah to come closer.

  "The hell she isn't. Just untie me."

  "Okay, but you have to promise to sit there with the blindfold for another two minutes. Trust me, you're going to like this."

  I hope Leah's not going to dance. I mean, I've watched female strippers before and I'm not repulsed by the female form or anything, but Leah is like family to me now and this could get awkward. Nobody wants to watch their sister dancing dirty.

  They untie Steve, and he keeps his word. Brandon gestures Leah over to him. "I got you the only thing I know you'd want. The honeymoon suite in the lodge is ready for you."

  "I told you—" Steve stops talking when Leah plops into his lap and whispers into his ear. His arms go around her immediately, and a huge smile cracks his face wide open. She tears off his blindfold, and they kiss in a way that makes me look away. Not because I’m repulsed but because it's too intimate. I feel exposed though I’m not the one kissing or being kissed.

  They take off to the lodge where they'll have one last night together since tomorrow is separate cabins until after the wedding. Brandon grabs another beer and sits next to me on the log. "I thought he was going to rip through the ties."

  "Well, you had me fooled, too. That was nice, what you did."

  "Score one for true love."

  Yeah. True love. I always wondered what that felt like and didn't realize that's what I was already feeling until it was too late. I love Brandon. How did I not already know that? We've been together a year. He moved into my condo after three months because it didn't make sense for him to live out of his duffel bag when he was at my place most nights anyway. We eased into a monogamous relationship without a lot of talk about feelings or the future, and I thought it was perfect. Until it wasn't.

  I never told him, "I love you," because I just didn't know.

  He never told you either.

  There's that.

  I need to get out of here. I can’t hide the morose way I’m feeling much longer. "I'm going to head up. I'll leave the light on."

  He nods. "Okay, see you."

  He’s already moving toward the table with s’more fixings. I don’t know where he finds the room. His stomach is a bottomless pit. His heart is even bigger. Too bad I didn’t realize the good thing I had until he was tired of waiting for me.

  Chapter Three

  Brandon

  "MILLER, WAKE UP."

  Miller
snuffles deeper into the covers.

  "C'mon."

  He snorts and sits up. "What? Fire? What's happening?"

  He's only been asleep for an hour at most, but he looks like I woke him up from the dead. "No, it's cool. I want to go skinny dipping."

  He blinks at me. "What?"

  "Tonight's the best night. There are no women here, so the rest of the guys aren't going to get naked together unless a few gay ones have somehow snuck by us. We should do it."

  "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "I know you don't. That's why we should do it."

  "Brandon—"

  "Come on." I pull his arm. "Slip your shoes on. I already grabbed towels."

  "This is—"

  "Crazy. Wild. Not appropriate. I know. C'mon."

  He doesn't fight me. Not really. When we talked about skinny dipping last week, it sounded pretty sexy. I don't have the same hopes for tonight, though I'm happy to see him naked.

  Last time you'll see him naked.

  We follow a path through the woods. I'm in front of him and my ass feels warm. Does that mean he's staring at it? He's a fan of my ass. But he likes my dick the best. I've never been with anyone who loves dick as much as my conservative, analytical financial analyst does. It's one of the things that's always turned me on so much about him. He seems like the kind of guy who'd fuck fully clothed if he could...until you get him in bed and then he's insatiable. He takes cock worship to epic levels.

  Great. Now my dick is remembering too.

  We get to the dock, and I start stripping. I'm not shy, and I know he's watching. I can feel his eyes on me as if he were touching me physically. Considering that I'm losing him soon, hell, that I've already lost him, I have enough pride to be happy that he still attracted to me. I turn and let him get an eyeful. He's just standing there in his boxers like someone pushed pause on him. "Get naked, Miller."