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At least, that’s the small amount of hope I’m holding onto as I check all the boys’ packs for the things they might need on today’s excursion. Compasses, water bottles, sunscreen, first-aid kits. EpiPens for any of the boys who have allergies to things found in the woods.
The crunching of footsteps comes up behind me as I’m about to zip up the final pack, and when I rise, I find none other than Kaleb standing there just…staring at me. And it gives me the transparent feeling in those awful dreams where you show up at school in only your underwear.
And that thought instantly brings me back to the other night in the showers where the situation was in the exact reverse. Which makes me feel hot in ways I really would rather not.
“Can I help you?” I ask after his staring reaches the point of painfully uncomfortable.
Kaleb’s brow arches, a dubious look etched into his features as his eyes scrape their way up and down my body. “What the hell are you wearing?”
What?
I glance down, taking in my forest green camp tee and khaki shorts before looking back up at him with a frown. “The exact same thing as you.”
He taps the toe of his dust-covered hiking boots to the toe of my boat shoes. The same ones I’d wear when Dad and I’d go out sailing on the Columbia River or any typical day visiting the coast.
My frown turns into something of a scowl. “You have a problem with my shoes now?”
“For hiking? Yeah. Going up and down five miles of trails wearing those is a sure way to end up with feet covered in cuts. Or worse, blisters.”
“Because you’re the expert, right?”
He blinks those stupidly green eyes at me. “Yeah. I kinda am.”
This fucking guy. So sure of himself and what he’s saying.
Granted, he was right earlier this week when we took the kids out in the kayaks, telling me I’d end up as red as a lobster because I didn’t put enough sunscreen on for this high of altitude. Something the petty, stubborn side of me refused to listen to. And wouldn’t you know, he was right, and I had a sunburn from hell that took three days to tan over.
Him calling that outcome has only made him more smug. I can read it all over his face right now as we have this little staredown.
“I’ll take my chances.”
Kaleb’s perfectly white teeth sink into his bottom lip before he lets out a wry laugh. “Suit yourself, Reynolds. Not my feet that’ll be two slabs of raw meat afterward.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, going to brush past him. “You coming with me to get the kids or what?”
“Oh, they’re on their way,” he tells me while grabbing his pack. “I just came from telling them all to hit the bathrooms before meeting us here.”
He’s right; not more than five minutes later, we’re handing out their packs and doing our headcount. And in true Kaleb fashion, he’s taking every opportunity he can to roast me in front of the kids as they count off, all the while flashing me little looks to gauge my reaction.
Playing annoyed isn’t hard, but ignoring the weird swirling flutter in my gut definitely is. Because while we still clearly bicker like children, there’s now this strange undertone to it. Has been ever since the other night in the shower.
Maybe even since the day I got here.
I could be imagining it now, especially since I caught him jerking it. Or maybe it’s because I was doing the same thing with no idea he was in the stall right beside me.
Or because it was his sharp jaw, chiseled body, and forest green eyes running through my errant thoughts the entire time.
Do not go there. Not right now.
Kaleb calls for the kids to fall in line, and without any more preamble or digs, he sets off with a single-file line of eleven-year-olds behind him. I wait and fall into step at the back of the group as we head up the trail; one, to make sure there aren’t any stragglers getting lost in the wilderness—hello, lawsuit waiting to happen—and two, because it’s as far away from Kaleb as humanly possible.
The more distance between us at this point, the better.
“You two don’t get along, do you?”
I glance up from where I’ve been carefully staring down at the trail to prevent myself from tripping or stubbing my toes on a root, only to find Elijah Marshall has fallen back in step beside me.
“That obvious, huh?”
