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I sat up swiftly, my hair escaping its clip to float around my head in a mass of bouncy auburn curls. I gave him a reproving glare. “That was your fault.”
He snorted loudly, laughing again.
“You are theworst,” I growled, letting my anger burn away my embarrassment rather than steeping in it.
“I am,” he admitted, putting his hand to his firm, flat chest again. “But if I wasn’t, then I wouldn’t have gotten to experience that scintillating prose.”
I was pretty sure my face looked like a tomato. “It’s romance.”
He puffed an incredulous laugh. “Is that your idea of a romantic date, June?” He slid a teasing look my way. “You want your date’s mouth under your skirt?”
I balled my hands into fists. “I really hate you.”
He laughed callously. I pursed my lips, giving him my iciest glare. Then I curled my legs into a ball and put my dirty sneakers up on his dashboard. Amos stopped laughing. He glowered.
I raised my eyebrows, giving him an innocent look. I slid my feet up the dash loudly, and then stretched them out to rest them on the windshield. They left little dirt marks wherever they went.
He tapped a finger on his steering wheel. “Brat.”
“Jerk,” I shot back.
I flipped through the music playlists on my phone, found ABBA, and started a mix playlist. “Gimme Gimme Gimme!” played loudly over the speakers.
Amos looked resigned. “I guess I deserve this.”
“You do,” I agreed, folding my arms.
He quirked a smile again. “Fine. It was still worth it.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore him, but the burn of shame mixed with a strange, swirling desire had settled between my legs, and I found it distracting and disturbing. What was it about Dr. Brady? He made me want to scream, but there was something about his stern demeanor that felt like it could slide into something absolutely irresistible.
I would have to avoid him as much as possible at this retreat thing.Focus on your hatred, I said to myself, taking on the gravelly voice from the Emperor Palpatine in Star Wars.Let the hate flow through you.
I felt enough hatred to turn my heart to the dark side, but something else gilded the sharp edge of the feeling. Something enticing and erotic.
* * *
By the time Amos’ SUV pulled up to the retreat venue, dusk had painted the Tetons in hues of pink and purple. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dance of colors, which were blending from warm magenta to striking oranges and all the way up the sky to a periwinkle blue that disappeared into violet midnight. It was a breathtaking palette. I wanted to reach up a finger and swipe the colors out of the air so I could smear them on a canvas.
There weren’t any signs heralding the name of the retreat space, but I knew from the brochure we’d been emailed that they called it Teton Wild School. As Amos parked in the dirt parking lot several yards from the campus, I noted that all the buildings had been made in the same modern style with cedar wood and black metal finishes. They used lots of glass on their walls and had lined the pathways with tidy, gray paving stones.
The third building down had Edison bulbs strung across an enormous pergola, and that’s where the staff had gathered. I heard their chatter and laughter from across the parking lot.
Amos pushed the ignition button to turn off the car, and in the quiet, darkening space, he turned to me with an elbow on the middle console. “Get your feet off my dash.”
I pushed away, plunking my feet on the soft carpet under the seat. “Aye, aye captain.” I tried to sound plucky, but mostly I was still embarrassed. “I’ll find someone to take me to my car on Sunday,” I said. Then I pushed open the door and hopped out of his tall SUV. “Okay if I check in first and then come get my stuff?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the pile of my crap in the back. “You might want to bring a friend or two.”
“At least I have friends,” I parried.
Dr. Brady gave me a cold but amused glare. “Cute.”
I shrugged before shutting the door and strutting away. Arrogant, insufferable creature.
The second I walked down the gravel path toward the camp, my lungs seized, and I had another coughing fit. “Jesus,” I rasped, choking on a ball of phlegm. I reached into my purse and took out the bottle of allergy pills I’d already taken that morning. They said they worked for twenty-four hours, but I called horseshit. I popped it in my mouth and decided drinks were definitely the best way to get through this whole thing.
It turned out we hadn’t missed much. Carla had made an announcement about the retreat, and everyone had gotten “Goal Compass” journals. But then the rest of the evening the staff had eaten tacos at the taco bar and proceeded to get tipsy on as many “Wild School Dirties” as they could handle. I wasn’t sure what was in the custom cocktails, but it had local blackberry puree and grenadine to sweeten the burn, and it was way too easy to knock several of them back.
