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“Oh, no,” I said, looking back at him. “Did you put the hot dogs in the bear locker?”
“No, I put them in the fridge,” he whispered.
“Jesus,” I eyed him. “You’re supposed to put it in the bear locker. There’s a reason they’re at the campsites.”
“I figured the fridge would work?”
“A bear will destroy your cute little camping fridge in a hot second to get a taste of food.”
“Let’s just call it what it is,” he said, calmer than I believed he would be while a bear scavenged through the campsite.
“And what’s that? We’re both going to die single and lonely tonight?”
“Ha, never,” he chuckled. “We’re both sleeping together in this tent because there’s no way I’m going out there unless the bear comes in here.”
“It’s almost like you couldn’t have planned this any better.”
“Oh, you know you love the idea,” he answered, pulling me into him.
He felt amazing, but I could not enjoy the firmness of the man’s chest and abs. I couldn’t find comfort and happiness in this, or I was fucked.
Falling for John Aster was more dangerous than walking outside this tent to scare off the bear he’d baited with his negligence.
I knew it was dangerous, but as the silence of the tent enveloped us, I felt my body melt into the safety of this man’s body, securely holding onto me as we silently listened to the bear pillage through the campsite.
Chapter Nineteen
John
I would have loved to enjoy that the woman who was somehow stealing my heart without my permission was falling asleep in my arms; however, the goddamn bear moving around this campsite was keeping me from enjoying that.
And since I was sitting in this tent wide awake and alone with my thoughts, I had to ask the question: Since mother-fucken when had I ever been comfortable with a woman falling asleep in my arms?
The answer to that question, my friends, was never.
This was certainly not my style or my game, yet I was finding myself in love with this sensation. It was almost euphoric for a man like me, who only had one purpose for having a woman in my bed and falling asleep in my arms did not serve that purpose. Even so, I felt as comforted as that bear out there eating hot dogs under the stars.
Goddammit. I couldn’t be alone in my thoughts like this. If I remained all cozy and comfortable like this, who knows where Mickie and I would be by morning—me proposing marriage over bacon and eggs cooked on my propane skillet?
“Mick!” I whispered loudly to rouse her awake, startled that I’d allowed my thoughts to entertain the idea of marriage even for a second. “Mickie?”
I felt a combination of panic over the bear that’d just let out a low growl, the fact I could feel its paws walking next to the tent, and the marriage shit that entered my damn mind.
“What?” she mumbled.
“The stupid bear isn’t leaving,” I said. “You said you did a lot of camping back in the day, right?”
“So?”
I rolled my eyes. “So, wake up and help me figure out how to run the goddamn thing out of here.”
“It’s a bear, John,” she said, seemingly annoyed that I was ruining her precious sleep over the carnivorous predator who was only separated from us by a flimsy canvas. “You don’t chase a bear off.”
“Well, what the hell do you do with it?”
“You go to sleep. Shut the hell up and go to sleep.”
“Mick,” I shook her, knowing she was half asleep still, “wake up.”
