I smirked, wiping sweat from my brow. “Happy to be part of the plan, even if I wasn’t in on it.”
She laughed and kept going, hopping down from the ledge. “Sienna would love this. She’s the real hiker in the family. She once did a six-day backpacking trip with a sprained ankle and refused to tell anyone until the end.”
“And you?”
She shot me a look over her shoulder. “Me? I’m more of a stare-at-the-scenery-and-make-up-stories kind of girl.”
I snorted. “That tracks.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“Yeah. You’re the kind of person who gives names to trees.”
“Idothat!”
“Of course you do.”
She reached the edge of another overlook and spun around slowly, arms out. “It’s like being inside a painting. One with too much color and probably a dragon hiding somewhere.”
I watched her, hair wind-tangled, lips parted, cheeks sun-kissed, and every thought I had about restraint evaporated into the heat haze.
This wasn’t just a crush.
This wasn’t just chemistry.
It wasgravity.
And it was pulling me straight into her orbit whether I liked it or not.
I made the mistake of looking at her mouth again.
It was a mistake because I knew exactly how it tasted, and because I knew exactly how much I wanted more.
She started walking back toward me, brushing her hand across the sandstone as she passed. “So, Mr. Broody Florida Man—”
“Please never call me that again.”
“—what do you actuallydoto relax? Because hiking clearly isn’t your go-to.”
“I usually keep to myself,” I said. “Long drives. Books. Silence.”
“Wow. Living the party life.”
“Iwasuntil someone lured me into the wilderness with muffins and sleeping bags.”
She grinned, eyes gleaming. “You’re welcome.”
She tried to pass by me on the narrow stretch of rock, her shoulder brushing mine.
And that was it.
That was the match on the fuse.
I caught her wrist.
She paused, startled.
I stepped closer, enough that I felt her breath stutter between us.
