“I think it looks good on you.”
He moves his huge arms around a bit like he’s trying tostretch the sleeves. “Maybe. If I had to guess, it was her assistant. She seems to think tighter clothes on us is more appealing to our audience.”
I bite my lip and resist the urge to tell him his sister’s assistant knows exactly what she’s doing. “How did you get them so fast?”
He gives up and brings his hands to his side. “She had our clothes sent by overnight mail along with a long list of instructions. I got everything but my phone. The guy at the front desk said Ash picked up everything else which means he has it.” His teeth grind. “He probably doesn’t know he as it because he probably hasn’t opened the packages yet. It’s so like him. And he hasn’t tried to check in with me to see what’s going on. That’s also like him. I swear, he’s like a teenager when it comes to his playtime.”
Clearly, he’s venting, but I don’t get the impression that he’s mad at his brother. It’s more like he’s just stating the facts. If I had to venture a guess, he’s used to this type of behavior from his brother and has accepted that it’s who Ash is. But there’s something else I’m more curious about. “When this film crew shows up, what are you supposed to do?”
He sets his fork down, then leans in and lowers his voice. “National Discovery is interested in doing a show with us. When they get here, we’re supposed to act like we’re in the middle of one of our adventures so they can see how we work with a big production company.”
“Like a test?” National Discovery is huge. They have some of the best shows on television so you would think he’d be excited, but he looks like he has a dental appointment for a root canal.
“Something like that, and if you thought my sister was madbefore, you can’t imagine how mad she’ll be if we don’t pass. And we won’t if I don’t find my brother in time.”
I can tell how stressful this is for him, and I’m tempted to reach across the table to rest a hand on his arm and reassure him. But as soon as that thought enters my head, as much as I’d love to feel those brawny arms, I know skin contact is out of the question. A girl can only take so much. With that in mind I try changing the subject. “There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
He finishes off the chicken and starts in on his omelet. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
I push my plate a few inches forward. The portions here are enormous, and as delicious as it was, I was only able to eat half my sandwich. “You had a fire out there. Are you planning on another one today?”
He chuckles as if it was a dumb question. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. I thought you were going to ask what we use for toilet paper.”
I scrunch my nose, picturing him in a way I should never be forced to picture anyone, squatting behind a log doing his business. “What? Gross! Why would I ask about something like that?”
He fidgets for a second clearly a little embarrassed. “I don’t know, believe it or not, it’s the first question we usually get. And for the record, we use—”
“Stop!” I say a little too loudly with my hand held up. “I don’t want to know.”
“Okay,” he offers bashfully but in the most adorable way. “But to answer your question, yeah, there will be a fire today, a couple of them. Why?”
Picturing his camp and how niceit was yesterday reminds me of camping with Mom when my brothers and I were little. Even back then, Dad never came, but Mom always loved the outdoors, and she took us on our own little adventures. Josh, Keegan, and I thought sleeping in a tent was the greatest thing in the world. The only thing better was roasting marshmallows and making s’mores. “It’s just that, well, we were told fires were strictly forbidden here.”
A tinge of a scowl paints across his face. “Who would care about something like that?”
“The people at this lodge, for one. They’re the ones who told us. They made it pretty clear that no fires are allowed in the area. So, yesterday, when we smelled smoke blowing in from your direction, we thought it was a forest fire.”
“A forest fire? What? Wait, is that why you went out there?”
“Yeah. We assumed it was something smoldering from a lightning strike. Back home, if that happens, you put it out before it gets out of control.”
His brows form a deep V as he mulls that over for a minute. “Makes sense. You must have been getting ready to go for a swim. I saw the pool.”
Yeah, two pools and seven jacuzzis,” I say excitedly. “Have you seen them?”
“Seven? I guess I know how I’m spending my evening. I do love a good hot tub.”
Dang, I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course he wants to hit the hot tubs. Part of me is tantalized at the thought of sharing one with him. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him in swim trunks. But who knows where that would lead—probably him on top of me, that’s where.
The way he smells, all spice and musk and manliness is bad enough, but it doesn’t end there. A girl could get lost in those deep blue eyes and forget she’s going home in three days while he goes back to wherever he’s from. She could forget she’s never going to allow herself to be vulnerable to a man again. Or, she could throw caution to the wind and have what would probably be the best weekend of her life.
Then what?
And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Then nothing. I’d go home and he’d go to who knows where with his brother for some crazy adventure on the other side of the world leaving me a distant memory.
But the way things stand now I can always say I met the famous Riggs and Ash. That’s something. And while I have him here, the seamstress in me keeps wondering about his clothes. I thought about them on our way back from his campsite yesterday. They’re different, rugged and tactical, yet oddly fashionable. What he’s wearing today is clearly made by the same company, but I don’t recognize the brand. Even the T-shirt is unusual. It’s an earth tone, sort of a dark, greenish khaki. But what makes it different is how heavy the material is, and everything is quadruple-stitched. Who does that? It’s probably the most durable T-shirt I’ve ever seen. The one he had on yesterday wasn’t as tight, but it still fit him like a glove. Someone knew what they were doing when they designed it. Still, I can think of a few improvements. For one, the fabric looks like inorganic cotton with a low thread count. I’d use preshrunk organic cotton with a high thread count. It would be so much smoother and more comfortable without compromising durability. I’d also play around with the width of the hems at the bottom, neck, and sleeves.They’re too wide. A few little tweaks here and there would really make the shirt stand out.
Then there’s the shorts. They’re a lighter khaki than the shirt and clearly made with heavy denim, but the way they fit in the thighs and butt is all wrong. The pants he was wearing yesterday had the same problem. An ass like that deserves better. And they’re already showing a lot of wear at the pockets. The right front pocket is seriously frayed. I’d line the tops of the pockets with leather. That would look amazing.
