He set his phone out on a log near the fire pit, and next to it were three rolls of dripping toilet paper. A smirk twitched at her lips, but when she used the outhouse, she offered up an unspoken apology by leaving a roll from her stash in the ramshackle building.
When she returned to the campsite, she saw he'd taken off his shirt. And his shorts. Her breath caught.
Holy moly.
He stood there like a sculpted Roman god, using a knife to sharpen the end of a long stick while wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. Problem was, she'd seen what was underneath, so her imagination didn't have to work too hard to conjure a mouthwatering image. Not good after her moment of weakness by the shore.
Stop staring.
She lowered her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose.
Right, because it's fine if he can't tell you're drooling over his body.
Ignoring the sarcasm in her head, she summoned some annoyance. "Seriously?"
He glanced up as he slapped at a bug on his arm. "What?"
Shanna jammed one hand on her hip, and pointed to him with the other, gesturing up and down. Behind her glasses, her gaze hovered at his midsection, vacillating between his defined abs and the bulge filling out the front of his snug briefs.
"Relax. I'm just letting my clothes dry."
"They can dry just as well while you're wearing them." She knew firsthand his shirt had barely been damp when he'd saved her from falling before.
"Not when it's this hot out." He turned and bent to set one stick aside and reached for another.
She managed to force her gaze away from the carved excellence of his hard ass. "I don't care. You need to put clothes on."
"Why is it such a big deal?" A cocky grin curved his lips when he straightened. "Are you afraid you can't control yourself?"
Maybe. "Hardly."
She stalked over to swipe up the instructions for her tent.
"If you want to level the playing field, I don't have any problem with you stripping down to your underwear," he offered. "It's not like I haven't seen it all before."
Heat flashed, fueled by anger and desire-the second of which angered her even more. She couldn't believe he had the nerve to bring up that night. Worse, that he was teasing about it.
"Trust me," she stated while jamming pole pieces together. "That was the last time you're ever seeing it all."
"Damn. And here I was getting all excited at the thought."
What? He was the one who'd practically run out of her apartment the morning after. And he'd pretty much rejected her down at the canoe.
Thank God.
She turned to glare at him, only to notice the bulge in the front of his briefs was noticeably bigger. He really was excited. "You're such a pig."
And yet, the thought he did still want her made her inner core clench with arousal. Geez Louise, what the hell is wrong with me? The past month had been nothing but heartache. Why would she go back for more?
"You're the one looking," he pointed out.
She sputtered in exasperation and spun back to the tent.
"Makes me wonder if you didn't plan the whole thing just to get me out of my clothes."
"Dream on, jackass."
Silence fell, until she realized she'd screwed up the pieces and had to start over. As she pulled the sections apart with a low growl of frustration, Kevin's chuckle sounded behind her.
"I remember you being more adept at handling a pole."
"Shut up."
"I'm just sayin'."
"You're acting like a twelve year old boy. It's very unprofessional."
"And screaming to scare the shit out of me is the appropriate adult behavior?"
She concentrated on the tent, unable to argue against his point.
When she took the incorrect pieces apart for a second time, he asked, "Do you need help with that?"
"No."
"If we work together, it'd go up a lot faster."
Because you're such an expert at erecting poles?
She bit her tongue to keep from speaking the pun out loud after seconds earlier accusing him of being unprofessional. And then, as she fought a grin, she had to go and picture her hand wrapped around him, his hand over hers, and the two of them stroking his hard length together.
Sheesh. Now she was hotter in the shade than when they'd been in the sun. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the flood of desire that dampened her panties and quickened her pulse.
"You're only offering so you can get in my tent," she accused as she finally got the first pole together and attached to the nylon tabs correctly. "You should've brought your own."
"I want to get into more than your tent, Shanna."
Her pulse skipped. "Could've fooled me with the way you ran out of my apartment like the building was on fire."
Nooo! Just shut up and let it go. Ignore him.
"I had to get out of there before I got frostbite."
She spun around to face him, all the hurt from that morning rushing to the surface. "What did you expect? First thing you said when you work up was, ‘Fuck. What the hell was I thinking?'"
Chapter 5
Kevin cringed at Shanna's words. He'd completely forgotten about his muttered curse that morning. Truth was, when he'd voiced the self-condemnation, he'd been rolling out of the bed after watching her sleep for far too long as dawn lightened the room. He'd believed she was still sleeping as he gathered his briefs and pants and went to the bathroom.
Problem right now was, he couldn't tell her he'd been talking about the fact he'd gone and fallen for her in one crazy night. Well, he could, but only if he wanted to get his heart stomped to a bloody pulp. Or bloodier pulp?
Then again, maybe he wasn't in too much danger if she would've let him kiss her earlier. Maybe he should've seen where that went instead of backing off out of self-preservation. If they got along half as well as they had that night before they'd burned up the sheets, it would make the week ten times more enjoyable. Add in sex, and yeah, he'd totally be on board with spending a week with that Shanna Rogers. Fun Shanna.
Or a lifetime?
Well, it all sounded great in theory, or Fantasy Land, but right now, she wasn't even close to that woman, and with his job now on the line, it was a risk he couldn't take. He needed to get her to cry uncle.
And then she'll have to quit.
Again, the thought of that made him frown. He didn't necessarily want her gone, but seeing her and wanting her got harder and harder each day, so it probably would be best if one of them left.
"Clearly, what was I thinking? is still the question," he quipped as he used his foot to brush at a mosquito on his calf. "Great sex is not worth what comes after, so I'll do my best to be more professional."
Her jaw clenched before she turned back to the tent. Kevin swiped up his mostly dry shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he put on his damp shorts, cursing his persistent hard-on as he buttoned and zippered.
A little later, Shanna was still struggling with the tent, and he moseyed over to watch. She pretended to ignore him, her frustration evident in every sharp, jerky movement she made. He noticed her sideways glances every so often, but she refused to accept his earlier offer of assistance. Just like at work, but now out in the woods. She always figured it out, and even if he didn't understand her obstinate independence, he had to admire her tenacity-among other things.
He tilted his head to get a better view of her toned backside.
After a moment, he reluctantly shifted his gaze. Part of him wanted to let her deal with the tent on her own. Let her figure it out, since he wouldn't be sleeping in it. Maybe she'd quit sooner if she had to sleep out under the stars with the bugs. But he'd spotted the end of a tent pole section sticking out from the side of a base tarp she'd spread out beneath the tent.
He flipped over the corner and retrieved the metal piece. Shanna's gaze narrowed in suspicion as he handed it over.
"Don't look at me like that. You kicked it under before, when you got all huffy about the morning after."
She snatched the pole and turned back to her project. A moment later, he heard her grudging, "Thanks," as she fit the missing piece in place.
"You need anything else, just let me know."
Fading sunlight kissed the tree line across the lake when she finally had the tent secured, a little after seven p.m. Kevin had passed the time by collecting firewood, and then splitting the larger pieces with an ax he'd found hanging on the inside wall of the outhouse.
Having sharpened roasting sticks for his hot dogs earlier, his next step was to start a fire. Hopefully, the smoke would chase away the mosquitoes that had been attempting to eat him alive the past couple of hours. Judging by Shanna's complete lack of slapping, bug spray had been on her list, not his.
"Campfire's ready to go," he said. "You got any matches?"
She glanced over from tossing her sleeping bag, mat, and pillow into the tent. "You didn't bring matches?"
"I did, but … "
Her gaze flicked toward his things. "Should've brought waterproof ones."
"I'll know better for next time," he said wryly.
She shook her head with a sigh, unzipped a pocket on her backpack, and lobbed a small yellow plastic container to him. He caught it one handed, and had the fire going in a few minutes.