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"You two need to come to a truce," Grant says, "or I'm leaving. I've got better things to do."
I roll my eyes, because he's still filming. The only better thing he has to do is show everyone the video he's made and laugh about it.
Clover pops her hands on her hips and glares at me for several long beats of her heart. I curl my hands into fists to keep myself in check, because that fierce look on her face is making me want to tell her to screw the race and have dinner with me. There is something seriously wrong with me.
It's not her. It's because I'm a romantic and I haven't dated since I moved here. I need to get out more and meet a woman who won't try to rip my dick off just because I'm breathing her air.
"I promise to behave, Empress." I hold out my hand to shake on our truce.
She takes my hand and squeezes surprisingly hard. "I don't." She lets go and turns to Grant. "I'll allow him to join our session today, but never again."
Grant lowers his phone and slips it into the small pack on his back. "If you want me to train you, Asher's going to be joining us for every session. I'm sure you can manage to act like an adult one day a week."
I snort, because Clover has given no indication of such an ability.
Clover ignores me and turns to face Grant. "I just need five minutes to stretch before we start."
I jog in place. "I don't need to stretch. I'm ready to go. Can't stretch if your house is on fire or a werewolf is chasing you."
"Werewolf?" A middle-aged man stops his walk toward the trailhead and looks over at me. "Are there werewolves in these woods too?"
Too? "No, man," I say. "I was just joking around."
He nods, but looks unconvinced. "Have you seen Bigfoot? I heard there have been six sightings in the last week."
Grant loses his calm expression and starts toward the man. "There's no Bigfoot in these woods. The National Park Service is thrilled to have so many folks visiting our forests, but I can assure you any rumors about a Bigfoot in this area or anywhere else in the country are unsubstantiated and false."
The man, wearing hiking pants and a t-shirt that look brand new, shakes his head and continues walking. "That's just what they want you to believe. There's something out there and I'm going to find it."
Grant walks over to us, rolling his eyes. "Ten bucks I have to rescue him from dehydration and stupidity before the day's out."
"Aw," Clover says, standing with one leg pulled up behind her to stretch her quadriceps muscle. "It's so great to see how much you love the tourists who tramp through the forests. I can see why you decided to be a park ranger."
"Keep it up and I'll kick you off my training team."
I lean closer to Grant and cross my arms over my chest. "The bro training team."
"Ugh, no," Grant says. "Quit talking like an over-grown frat boy or I'll kick you off the team too."
"The power's already gone to your head, man."
Clover switches to her other leg and I get a bit lost in the curves and planes of her body. I want to run my hands over her.I want to lick that line of cleavage and taste the sweet salt of her skin.
Grant rips me out of my reverie by grabbing my beard and pulling. "Got a little drool there."
I glare at him. "So you tried to remove my beard from my body?"
"I'm trying to knock some sense back into you. No consorting with the enemy. That idea's got trouble written all over it."
"What are you two whispering about?" Clover shouts. "You better not be plotting with the enemy, Grant."
The look Grant gives me is as clear as if he'd spoken the words 'I told you so' aloud.
"Enough stretching," I say as I stalk toward the trail head. "I'm ready to run."
"I'm not finished," Clover says.
"Good." I spin back to face her. She's bent over in a straddle stretch, her perfect ass bouncing as she shifts side-to-side. Damn it. I'm not going to be able to run very far with a chub. "The race is already done and I've won."
