Her Billionaires_ Boxed Set(28)

Easy, girl, she told herself as she stole another look at Mike.

What was it about these two? Dylan was incredible last night and yet she’d already crossed him off her mental list of eligible partners because the guy obviously had a girlfriend—or, worse, a wife. Who keeps the pictures of some gorgeous woman all over the place in their bedroom otherwise? And now here she was, less than fifteen hours after sneaking out of Dylan’s house and heading home for what she thought would be a nice, big cry and a pint of ice cream, finding herself with yet another incredibly hopeful relationship staring her in the face.

Literally. She looked up and realized that Mike was watching her, his head cocked to the side, a little half grin making him look boyish and absolutely adorable. “What are you thinking, Laura?” he asked.

“Uh...” she stammered, completely unwilling to tell him what she was really thinking. “Oh, I was just marveling at how beautiful it is here.”

“Yeah it’s amazing isn’t it?” Was he staring at her to tell her that those words had a double meaning? She felt shy, suddenly, and tucked a clump of wet hair behind her ear, feeling her face flush with bashfulness. A rising heat between her legs didn’t help, either. Her body was telling her that they were alone, out in the woods, he was gorgeous and attentive, and—

“So you work here?” She forced herself to ask the question, to break her thought loop out of its rush, because if she didn’t, pretty soon she would just plain old jump him.

“Well, yeah in the winter, but I just thought I’d bring you up here on a hike right now, because the canyon looks so much better. Different—when it’s not covered with snow and skiers. Actually it’s kinda nice to be here when I’m not on duty and worrying about some teenager who breaks a leg or some eight year old who can’t grab the tow rope properly and gets dragged up the hill.” He chuckled and she joined him. That was the most she had heard out of his mouth in one continuous stretch since she’d met him.

He seemed so good-natured, didn’t talk much, was kind of quiet— and she liked that way more than she ever would have imagined. It was really different from Dylan, who was so gregarious, open and extroverted. There was a quiet depth to Mike that she found refreshing. Most guys she’d met on the dating site were either out for a piece of ass or to just sit there on a date and talk themselves up. Nobody had ever asked her out on a hiking date and she was starting to realize that this guy was different, this guy was special— and she hoped she was special enough for him.

“Shh!” he said, grabbing her arm suddenly, the pressure of his fingers more urgent than arousing. “Look!” he hissed, pointing into the woods. She leaned into him, craning her head to see what he was pointing to, taking advantage of the moment to get that much closer, to cross the silent boundary between them and to bridge the gap in those first seconds of contact that you never get back.

She could smell him this close and he smelled like pine and sweat and something more— a sporty musk that seemed to turn on her inner sensors, making her instantly flushed, a lump forming in her throat that told her that there was definitely a spark of chemistry here. An inner bliss poured into her veins, channeling through her, making every pore hum and relax as she reveled in the newness of Mike.

“What is it?” she asked.

“There —do you see it?” Two deer stood deep in the woods munching on the bark of a tree. The mother perked her head up, turned to her fawn, and looked back at Laura and Mike with a precision only animals could possess. The doe nudged her baby and the two ran off into the woods, not so much scared as careful. You never know about humans; they’re just as likely to be friend as foe, and Laura understood. Goodbye, little Mama, she thought.

“Oh, wow,” Laura said. “That’s really beautiful.” A quick glance showed he was watching the animals as intently as she was, yet also attuned to the tension between them, now shifting from the sheer simplicity of first contact to a journey of unspoken communication. Blood pulsed through her, beating a rhythm of questions she hoped he could feel and that, in turn, he could decipher. I want you, it said, and the greatest hope inside her was that his return beat would be the message, I want you, too.

The pressure of his fingers lightened, shifting from a grab of urgency to a lingering touch that asked a question his mouth couldn’t— or wouldn’t—ask. Two seconds, Laura, she told herself, two seconds to just start to breathe before turning and looking at him. Was that his return beat? The feel of his fingertips was agonizingly puzzling, for it could mean nothing or, if she was right, it could mean everything.