Jane woke groggy and grumpy. Thoughts of Booth kept bumping around in her head all night like fireflies in a jar. What was he really doing here? Because she was pretty sure he wasn’t that big a Grease fan. She wouldn’t even have pegged him to attend a sing-along, let alone a full week of Danny and Sandy stuff. Could he…was it possible that he really had more of a thing for her than she’d even thought? If so, was that a good thing? Did she want to get back together with him? Did people even do that eleven years later? And why did he hurry away into the forest last night?

As she got into clothes appropriate for yoga, she noticed a white Camp Firefly Falls envelope on the floor near the door. Her name was printed on the front. Inside was an email from Dylan, apparently forwarded to her by the camp staff.

I’m sorry and I miss you. Love, Dilly

She frowned. Nice try. And the “Dilly” part was a nice touch. She’d used that nickname as a joke once and he made it clear he did not want to be called that. The fact that he was using it now proved he was trying harder than usual. She crumpled up the note and tossed it into the trash before leaving the cabin.

Except for the chirps of the proverbial early birds, it was quiet as she followed the path to the dock. It took coming to the mountains to make a person realize that quiet in the city was nothing like quiet in the country. Nothing in the city compared to its country counterpart. The food tasted better. The pine-scented air was sweet and clean. And when night fell, the heavens put on a show as if to say, “Hey, dummy, this is the best light show you’re ever going to see and it plays every night for free.”

A soft voice called her name. A tingle of awareness told her it was Booth before she turned around.

He looked like a hockey god who had just woken up. His hair didn’t look like he’d touched it, not even to run his fingers through it. He looked a little bleary around the eyes, but the crinkles there in the corners when he smiled at her made her feel warm inside, despite the pre-dawn chill.

“I was hoping to run into you,” he said in a low voice. There was something about being out in the early morning that made people speak softly. “Are you going to the Sunrise Yoga?”

She leaned out to look behind him. He’d come from the same direction he’d disappeared into last night. Maybe there was a penthouse cabin out there, secluded away from everyone else. It would make sense. Booth had a lot of money, and judging from the people who had approached him yesterday for pictures, he had reason to want some solitude.

“As a matter of fact, I am. I haven’t done yoga in forever and would really like to get back into the swing of it.”

“I’ve never done it before. Thought I’d give it a try. Can I walk with you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you can walk with me.”

They fell into step together and he shortened his stride considerably.

“So, where’s your entourage?”

She laughed softly. “Asleep.”

“I gotta tell you, I was afraid I was going to get the shit kicked out of me last night.”

“It did get a little hairy, didn’t it?”

“Don’t laugh. That Harley guy is scary. And Octavio? He’s small, but I’ve known guys like that before. They’re twice as tough because they have to be.”

“Come on, Booth, you play mother-effing hockey for a living. Don’t act like you’re some pushover.”

“Jane, I’m a goalie. I’ve been in exactly two fights in my life.”

She scoffed. “I’ve seen you shove people before in anger because they interfered with you or got too far into your crease.”

He grinned at her. “At the risk of appearing homophobic again, for the record, my crease is a No Guy Zone.”

Rolling her eyes, she batted him on the arm. “Not that crease, your goalie crease. Jeez. Why did they even name it that? It’s so suggestive.”

“I have no idea,” he said. “Five hole isn’t much better.”

“No, five hole is actually ten times worse,” she said, laughing.

When their laughter died down, he said, “So, I have question for you.”

She wrinkled her nose, pretty sure she knew what was coming.

“How did you know all that stuff about the parade and me going to the high schools and all that?”

“Oh, it was in the papers,” she said in what she hoped was a convincing manner.

He gave her a skeptical look.

She sighed. “Okay, I watch hockey once in a while. That’s not a crime, you know. Sometimes articles cross my path.”

His lips curved upward and drew her attention to his beard. She’d never touched a man’s beard before and she had an inexplicable urge to slide her fingers into the thick growth. “No, it’s not a crime at all. It’s a wonderful thing, in my opinion.”

Then he leaned over as they walked and bumped her gently.

Oh, God. He’d done that all the time when they were a couple. She glanced over and sure enough, he had his hands in his pockets just like he used to. That small wordless gesture communicated so much. He knew she’d lied just now. Obviously she had checked up on his career at least once, or else she wouldn’t have known all those details about how he’d tried to make up for the gay slur. But he wasn’t going to make a big fuss out of it. He wasn’t going to rub her face in it. He’d always been good about knowing what he could tease her about and what he couldn’t.

It still bothered her that she’d tipped her hand last night, but she couldn’t just let the Gaydies form the wrong opinion about Booth, not about an important social issue like that.

As they got closer to the dock, she saw about ten people sitting cross-legged on mats, facing the lake. There were a couple of lanterns there for light and a cart with neatly rolled up mats. She and Booth each took one and chose spots in the back row. The instructor smiled and nodded at them and Jane smiled and nodded back.

“It’s been a while since I did this,” Jane said in a soft voice.

“Just let your body guide you this morning. Do as much or as little as you feel best.”

“I’ve never done this,” Booth confessed.

“Don’t worry,” the instructor said. “I try to make this as easy as possible.” She addressed the group then. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Essa, the yoga instructor here at Camp Firefly Falls. I’m so glad you decided to join me today. Let us begin with the sukhasana pose.”

As Essa explained and demonstrated, Booth said to Jane out of the corner of his mouth, “Wait. They have a pose called ‘sucks Anna’?”

Jane pressed her lips together to hold in her laughter then gave him a sharp look.

Booth shrugged. She could just imagine him as a little boy joking around in class and getting in trouble for it.

“Excellent,” Essa said. “Let’s all take a moment to think about what we would like to dedicate our practice toward today.”

“Jane, psst. What does that mean? Dedicate my practice?”

She leaned over and whispered, “Think about an aspect of yourself that you want to make better and make your yoga be about that.”

“But…I’m perfect,” he said with such complete seriousness that it made her laugh.

Someone shushed them and Booth gave her a look then faced forward again, as if she was the one misbehaving.

He had a beautiful profile, and damn him, his posture was excellent. It had to be his abs. Even though he was wearing a shirt, she could tell he had tight abs.

Essa instructed them to assume child’s pose next and Jane forced herself to stop thinking about his body as she pressed her face to the mat. This is relaxing, she told herself. You’re surrounded by nature and crisp mountain air and birds, and after this there will be a delicious breakfast to be had that you didn’t have to cook.

But it was hard to relax when right next to her—within touching distance—Booth MacDonald stretched and moved what seemed like a choreographed display of his male physique. The urge to just sit and stare at him was almost overwhelming. She ended up just squeezing her eyes shut except for the times when she had make sure she was centered on her mat, but even then, he made almost imperceptible sounds, almost groaning on his exhales which distracted her.

Okay, they did more than distract her. They were turning her on. Even though it had been eleven years, she could still vividly remember how if they hadn’t seen each other in a while, that first kiss was intense. He kissed her like he wanted to devour her and he made these gruff noises that were animalistic enough to get her really fired up.

Stop it, Jane. She was supposed to be focusing inward.

Happy baby pose. Inhale…exhale…

Corpse pose. Inhale…exhale... Smell the grass, Jane. Listen to the lap of the water against the dock. Forget all about the man who has his eyes closed but is still managing to be focused on you.

When Essa finally dismissed them, Jane didn’t think she’d ever been less relaxed after yoga. She glanced over at Booth who was still lying there looking like he’d just gotten a massage.

Don’t go there, Jane, she told herself, even as an image of him on his stomach with only a towel over his sculpted ass flashed in her mind. Thinking about Booth getting a massage is just unnecessary, self-inflicted torture.

She rolled up her mat and thanked Essa, her thoughts on having a leisurely breakfast, maybe scouting out a few places for her photo shoots and then meeting the Gaydies for the Beauty School Makeover class where they were to learn how women did their faces back in the fifties.

“God, I could use some coffee right about now,” Booth said, as he replaced his mat on the cart. “How about it, Jane? Wanna grab some grub? Some people I met yesterday raved about the cornmeal waffles with house-made blueberry syrup.”

“That sounds amazing,” she said.

They were scarfing down waffles, eggs, bacon, and the most heavenly hash browns she’d ever had in her life when the Gaydies came over. Everett, Frasier and Harley were wearing shorts and T-shirts. Octavio, on the other hand, was wearing cigarette pants, a white blouse, ballet flats and a wig. Jane glanced at Booth and saw he was grinning.

“Dude,” he said to Tavi, “you look fucking awesome.”

“Thank you,” Octavio said. “Pardon my plain face, but I’m planning to do it up right at that seminar after breakfast. You’re still coming with us, right, Jane?”

“I can’t wait, because afterward, I’m going to take some photos for one of my blog posts.”

“Hey, I was wondering how that worked,” Booth said. “Do you have an assistant?”

“Sometimes I can corral a friend to help me out but most of the time I use my tripod and a timer. It takes a lot longer that way, but I don’t mind.”

“Let me help you,” Booth said. “I can work a camera and there’s honestly nothing better I’d like to do than watch you all day.”

As all four Gaydies raised their eyebrows, she laughed nervously.

“I…okay,” she said. “Thanks.”

Harley cleared his throat. “I’d love to talk more but if I don’t get some food soon, I’m going to go insane.”

“See you soon,” Octavio said to Jane.

After they left, Jane said, “You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to. I can manage by myself. I do it all the time.”

Smiling, he closed his big hand over hers. “I want to help you.”

Anxiety flared and all the calm serenity she’d gained at yoga disappeared as she tried to withdraw her hand.

He didn’t let her. Instead, he held on a little tighter. And honestly, it didn’t take much to make her give up. After the initial uneasy surprise, she slowly relaxed. His thumb stroked her skin softly, but really, it was the expression on his face that sapped all resistance from her body.

“Why are you here?” she asked him. “The truth. Because I know you’re not here for Grease.”

“I’ll answer that question if you answer one of mine.”

Even though she worried what he was going to ask, his request seemed fair so she nodded.

“I’m here because of you.” His fingers tightened around hers again. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jane. And I’m not talking about just since I saw you at the fashion show. I’m talking about ever since we broke up. Don’t be scared. I’m not obsessed. I don’t have a shrine set up or anything. I just—” He broke off. “This is stupid. Never mind.”

“No,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Keep going. It’s not stupid.”

“Well, I…” He sighed. “Every once in a while I’ll think of you for whatever reason and I feel what I think soldiers feel when they’re away at war—hoping that their girl is happy doing what she’s doing, but mostly regret for having left her behind, wishing things could have been different and they could be together.”

He raised his gaze to hers and Jane didn’t know what to say. She was touched, but not truly surprised he’d opened up. She and Booth had spent many hours just talking. Being teenagers, they hadn’t racked up many regrets yet, but they had hopes, fears and dreams and she and Booth had shared them with each other. She’d shared things with him that she hadn’t shared with anyone. She certainly hadn’t shared them with Dylan, which was telling, now that she thought about it.

“Not that I’m soldier material or anything. I’m not brave enough for that.”

That’s where he was wrong. Booth was brave to put his heart on his sleeve like that, especially with their history. He had to know she might grind his heart under her shoe because of what he’d done to her. But she felt no need for revenge. As painful as his actions had been and despite the emotional hell she was in for so long, she’d come out of it stronger and determined not to let that define her. In a way, he’d done her a favor. She wouldn’t have started up Big Girl Panties if not for him.

He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Anyway, all that was to explain that I’m here because I need to know if there’s a chance we can pick up where we left off. Not right where we left off,” he said, “because obviously that was a shit show. I’m talking about rewinding to before I ruined everything. I want another chance, Janie. If we could get even half of what we had, that’d be ten times more than I ever had with anyone else.”

Jane bit her lip. Her brain wanted to weigh the pros and cons and give some real thought to this. It wasn’t like asking her to coffee. But her heart was practically singing. Booth had pretty much just told her she was the only woman he wanted. There had been a time in her life when she would have laughed in his face and told him to fuck himself. But here, today, the protective shield she’d built around her heart didn’t seem to be as solid as it had once been. In the wake of his confession, it seemed downright wispy, as a matter of fact.

Was there a good reason not to give him a second chance? Aside from the “shitshow”? Yes. If he’d broken her heart once, he could do it again. But it seemed as if all she could do was imagine what it might be like to recapture what she’d had with Booth—all the joy and laughter and closeness, not to mention the kind of satisfying sex she longed for.

Not that she was going to have sex with him right off the bat.

Except those thighs of his. Lordy.

“Okay,” she said, forcing a no-nonsense tone. “You’ve got your second chance…”

His face lit up.

“But I reserve the right to kick you to the curb when camp is over.”

“You won’t want to,” he said with a quiet confidence that, again, was a marked difference between the young Booth and this mature Booth. It made her feel warm and slightly nervous.

She liked that feeling.