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A bitter taste, like dry-swallowing an aspirin, filled his mouth. Oh yeah. That was right. This had been about revenge and jealousy, and he was the one who’d gotten caught up in making the sex something more than what it was.
“Sure.” He forced the word out. “The morning should be interesting.”
“Wake me before breakfast.” Canaan kissed Renzo’s neck. “That was too good to not want a repeat.”
Renzo didn’t answer, instead feigning sleep. He did want a repeat, rather desperately, but he wasn’t sure how much more he could take before the armor he usually wore around his emotions started to chip. And he couldn’t have that.
* * *
Canaan had expected a certain amount of awkwardness in the morning, but he’d expected any tension to come from people who might have overheard him and Renzo. Instead, it was Renzo who was the most awkward, rolling away when dawn started filtering into their tent, and not meeting Canaan’s eyes as they dressed.
“You got something against morning sex?” Canaan grumbled.
“Nope. But not sure I wanna put on a show while others are cooking.” Renzo’s tone was all reasonable, and Canaan supposed he might have a sliver of a point as they could hear the rustle of other tents and low voices.
“Fine. Be responsible. But you’re going to give me a complex, make me think that you didn’t really like the sex.”
“You’re just fishing for compliments.” Renzo still wasn’t making eye contact as he laced up his boots. “You heard me get off. You know it was good.”
“Then how about not acting like I’ve got smallpox, huh?” Still freezing, Canaan pulled a sweatshirt over his T-shirt. “You’re all cuddly while sleeping and then turn into a cactus when you wake up.”
“Sorry.” Renzo’s mouth twisted, sighing as if he’d been holding a mountain of tension in his lungs. Reaching out, he squeezed Canaan’s knee. “You’re all right.”
“Gee. Thanks.” Transcendent sex like that and he was still simply all right? Fuck that noise. He’d fucked around plenty, had orgasms in far sexier surroundings than a dark tent in the middle of nowhere, but seldom had sex cracked him open like that, left him raw and wanting. Forget making other people jealous—all he’d been able to focus on with Renzo’s hands on him had been how to ensure a permanent supply of Renzo’s drugging kisses and touches.
“Let’s get you some coffee.” Unzipping the tent, Renzo headed into the chilly early morning air. As usual, he immediately made himself useful with the breakfast prep, leaving Canaan trailing behind him, still yawning. He got a cup of coffee that was way too strong for his tastes and waited while the guides served up pancakes and sausages. There was a make-your-own-lunch station, and Renzo moved to position himself there, giving people advice about what to put in their day packs.
“Make double sandwiches,” he ordered Canaan.
“So you can steal one?” Canaan couldn’t resist teasing, even if it came out with more of an edge than he’d intended. See, if he’d gotten morning sex, he wouldn’t be having this trouble with his sarcasm filter. But Renzo didn’t seem to care about the bite in his voice.
“No, so I don’t have to carry you back.” Renzo passed him another two slices of bread.
“Caveman,” Damian muttered as he and Eric finally emerged, bleary-eyed from their tent. “Whose idea was it to start while the sun isn’t even all the way up?”
“Mine.” Kelly was about as relentlessly cheerful as Renzo. Eyes twinkling, he turned toward Canaan. “You guys sleep well last night?”
“The best.” Canaan wasn’t about to look embarrassed about something he’d orchestrated.
Eric snorted and Damian shook his head. “You always were way too into showing off. Not everyone needs evidence of your exhibitionist streak.”
That was rich, considering how many times Damian had personally benefited from that streak and how much he’d claimed to love it. But Canaan just shrugged. Beside him, Renzo coughed, skin darkening. He clearly wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable with others knowing what they’d done as Canaan was, so he took pity on Renzo, wrapping an arm around him.
“You’re embarrassing my guy.”
“I’m fine.” Renzo stepped away, busying himself with sandwich making.
“Whatever.” Damian wandered away in the direction of the coffee, no apology forthcoming either for the teasing or his revelations last night. Whatever, indeed. Not like Canaan had expected better from him.
After eating, they finished packing for the hike and boarded the vans to head to the trailhead, which was much farther into the Grand Canyon area, away from the more popular stops in Grand Canyon Village. Because the hike would take them through both National Park land as well as Native American land, the guides had obtained all the necessary permits, and they seemed quite eager to show off the remoteness of the trail.
“We’ll likely have the trail to ourselves most of the way,” the younger guide enthused. “And this is a great mix of views and narrow canyons to explore, interspersed with flat washes where we can catch our breath.”
