It was a bloodbath. The Bears didn’t just beat the Wolves. They annihilated them while Emma could only watch in pain.

Her team had plenty of strong women, some with muscles so defined they wouldn’t be out of place on the cover of a fitness magazine. The Wolves did their best, particularly on the obstacle course that required a bit more finesse, but there was a pair of twins on the guys’ side who moved like the paddles were an extension of their arms. They put the Bears so far out of reach there was no catching them.

As for Emma, she was only thankful the rest of her team hadn’t thrown her off the dock while the guys loudly celebrated their victory. It was her first time in a kayak, and everything about the experience felt wrong. While the others swiveled their paddles in an effortless rhythm, she could barely remember to position the flat side correctly for maximum speed. She probably would have been more focused on the task if she hadn’t been half convinced the kayak would roll at any moment, leaving her trapped inside.

And every second she struggled, she could feel Max’s eyes on her, expecting her to fail. To live up—or down—to his expectations.

Now, she sat on the grass with the rest of her team, who were grumbling good-naturedly about the loss while the guys signed up for their prize—an hour-long tennis lesson that wasn’t included in their registration package.

Caroline nudged her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t believe I paid money to be that humiliated.”

Though the camp quietly discouraged screen time, Holly had spent the last five minutes staring at her phone. She gave a short laugh and shook her head. “That bastard,” she muttered. The words were strong, but she sounded amused, even admiring.

“What is it?”

“You remember those blond guys?”

“Are you asking if we noticed the super-built six-foot twins with cheekbones that could cut ice?” Danielle asked. “Of course not. We would never objectify men like that.”

“Not even when they took off their shirts between races,” added Marie. Emma hadn’t spoken to her yet, but the woman had eyelashes you could see from space. There was no way Emma was leaving camp before learning the name of her mascara.

“Well,” Holly said, “those pretty boys are Olympic silver medalists. You can probably guess what sport.”

Caroline’s jaw dropped. “Are you saying he brought in ringers?”

“He wouldn’t do that. Max would never cheat—but he has no problem taking full advantage of what he’s given.” She pulled her clipboard from the nylon backpack at her feet.

Holly’s gaze flicked between the paper and her group. It looked like she was assessing each member of her team. “It’s not too late to change our plans. Caroline, what do you do for a living?”

The woman grimaced. “I’m one of about sixty vice presidents for a local banking group. No one’s giving me a medal for that.”

“You never know. Danielle, what about you?”

“Lawyer.”

“Marie?”

“Veterinarian.”

One by one, Holly went through the group, asking questions and making notes. She didn’t only want to know about their current careers. She asked questions about their degrees, their travels, their hobbies. It was an accomplished group of women, and Emma tried not to feel self-conscious. Though she was thrilled with her recent successes, she hadn’t been to college or acquired any professional skills. She knew how to apply makeup, but her ability to distinguish between fifteen shades of brown eye shadow was little help with Scout wars.

Holly was determined to find hidden talents. “Do you know anything about sports?”

Emma knew a baseball player who wore superhero underpants, but she doubted that was what Holly meant. “Not a thing.”

“Golf?”

“No.”

“Hiking?”

“I’ve successfully walked without falling over for years. That’s the same thing, right?” Emma left out the six weeks she’d spent with the juicing-obsessed actor who liked to get her out of bed at oh-hell-no o’clock to hike in Griffith Park.

“Good enough.” Holly scanned the notes she’d made, and as she silently made plans for the rest of the week, Emma sat straighter. Her version of being outdoorsy might mean drinking her margarita on a patio, but she wasn’t unskilled.

“I don’t know if it helps us, but I’m a marketing genius.” She didn’t bother to feign modesty. It was true. “The world is full of good-looking people, and most of them don’t get a million Instagram followers or translate that into their own product line. And I did all that without appearing on a single reality show.”

“What about the famous boyfriends?” asked someone Emma hadn’t spoken to yet. She racked her memory for the woman’s name. Anna.

The question elicited several glares from her other teammates.

Emma had been asked this before, but it didn’t make the question sting less. “Are you asking if I used my vagina to be successful?”

Anna had the good sense to look ashamed. “Sorry. I just read something last month in Us Weekly.”

Emma knew the one. The article had focused on the young actress her most recent fling had dated after they broke up. Two hundred words on how she was soothing his broken heart after Emma ripped it apart. Zero words on how the guy thought cunnilingus was the Latin name for an insect.

She gave the same answer she always did. “The followers came first. Companies were paying me to promote their products long before I was dating anyone who showed up in gossip pages.”

Anna apologized, and it was so sincere Emma accepted it easily. In her experience, everyone had stupid thoughts from time to time, and they were bound to slip out on occasion. Better to clear the air and move on.

While they spoke, Holly had been tapping her pen against the paper, her brow furrowed as she considered their options. When she smiled, it was slow, thoughtful, and a little evil. “You know what, Emma? I think we can use that.”

* * *

Max had always enjoyed the food at camp—hard not to when a four-star chef was in charge of the menus—but that day he barely tasted the pasta. All through lunch, he was preoccupied with not looking in Emma’s direction, though he wasn’t very successful at it.

They weren’t the only ones in the Birch House dining room. In addition to the spa group, the camp was hosting a group of businesspeople, there for a short team-building session. Max noted bitterly that none of those guys were trying too hard not to stare.

For her part, Emma seemed unaware of their presence. She leaned forward, her expression relaxed as she chatted with her team. It looked like she’d recovered from the morning’s challenge.

It had been painful to watch her try to wrangle the kayak into behaving. He should have felt victorious. But the way her jaw had tightened with each passing second, determination written across every feature as she refused to give up, even when it was clear the contest was lost—he couldn’t help feeling a grudging admiration.

He’d wanted to dive into the cool lake and swim to her. He could climb into the kayak and sit behind her in the tight space. Show her how to handle the oars. His hands would cover hers. Her hips would be wedged between his thighs, her sweet ass pressing against his…

Max bit back a groan.

He didn’t remember deciding to stand, or to walk across the room. He definitely didn’t decide to sit next to his sister, who happened to be across the table from Emma. But somehow, there he was, surrounded by the enemy.

“You doing okay, sis? Not too upset about your embarrassing, monumental loss today?”

“What’s that saying?” Emma asked sweetly. He turned toward her, feeling a strange relief now that he was allowed to look at her. “Pride goeth before the fall?”

Holly joined in. “Also, the bigger they come, the harder they fall?”

Emma rolled her eyes at him. “Do you really think one loss will crush our spirits? I hope that’s not your entire plan. That would be rather pathetic.”

“Only one loss? I’m counting on a sweep.”

“You’ve got this, right?” Emma asked Holly.

“Oh, I got this.”

Max didn’t need to glance at his sister to know what expression she wore. Certain and self-assured, her confidence so absolute he’d think she was born with it if he didn’t know better.

Holly rose and moved to the front of the dining room. The teams quieted, silent anticipation thrumming through the groups. The men were eager to chalk up a second victory. The women were ready for revenge.

“This afternoon’s badge is a simple one. Perhaps the most classic Girl Scout badge of all time.” She paused just long enough to build the suspense, looking between the two groups. Her eyes sparkled with a mischief he knew too well, and Max had a sinking feeling the Bears were about to lose. “Today, we’re doing our version of the cookie-selling badge.”

Yep. They were doomed.

“You may have noticed we’re not the only campers here this week.” She waved at the other tables.

Max glanced at Emma, expecting to see her grimace at the reminder of the spa group, but her attention was fixed entirely on his sister.

“Both of the other groups, along with the Camp Firefly Falls staff, will be given several tokens to spend at the cookie vendor of their choice. They can split them between groups or spend them all in one place. Bears and Wolves, you have three hours to bake your cookies and figure out how to convince these lovely people to buy them.”

His men looked wide-eyed and a little nervous. The women were already rising, ready to run at the starting bell.

Holly checked her watch and held up her hand to count off the seconds. “The kitchen staff clears out in…three…two…go!”