Page 12 of Reign or Shine

“Good.” He smiles, letting go of my hand and nodding. “Very good.”

He turns away. Confused that he’s leaving after that declaration, I call after him.

“That’s it? You’re leaving?”

He begins walking slowly backward. “This is not the last you’ll see of me, sunshine. You can count on that.” Then, with those last words ringing out across the store, he exits into the setting sun.

That night, as I’m debating on watching one more episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., my cell rings with Shirley’s name. I’ve been taken off the camping trip. Instead, I’ll be leading a private hike.

Well, I’ll be damned. He did it.

Chapter Six

Ellie

I’m standing on the edge of the dirt parking lot when a black SUV rolls to a stop. My stomach begins to flutter with nerves.

I can’t believe this is happening. Henry really did it.

One of the back doors open and a second later Henry hops out. Shooting a quick smile my way, he reaches back in and drags out a large backpack.

The low murmur of his voice reaches me, and I feel a shiver dance its way down my spine.

Oh man, it’s already begun. I needed to get myself under control. We were going to be alone together for a six-hour hike, so I needed to at least begin the day on a professional footing.

As Henry approaches, the slamming of his door echoing through the trees, I take in the slight flush on his cheeks from the cold spring air.

His hair is a little wild today, the curls looking unruly and full. I like it. He even looks adorably eager to begin the day.

No, I can’t think like that. Crap, what have I’ve gotten myself into? There was no way I was making it out of this day-long hike without some kind of damage—most likely to my heart.

The sky was clear, the weather brisk and invigorating, and yet, I knew a rocky path was ahead of me. I had to walk that weird line of personal hike tour guide and woman on the edge of total lust. A forbidden civilian to this royal heir.

Or, like, whatever he lorded over.

Henry’s words about wanting to spend time with me play over in my head as he stands before me. I wasn’t sure if this was something new he was doing or if I truly was special, yet either way, I was looking forward to our time together. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t a damn catch, but the chances of me ending up with a member of a royal family were super slim. Like, almost nonexistent.

We’d spend a lovely day hiking together, share some personal stories and take in some amazing views, but then we would also part as friends. That’s the way it had to be.

Then why does the thought depress me? I was making the emotional rules after all.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he says, coming to a stop.

“Good morning, Henry,” I say back, quickly losing my train of thought when I see what he’s wearing. Oh no, I’m done for. When I’d agreed to do this hike last night, I forgot to take into account one thing: the vest paradox.

It was a proven fact, entirely science-driven really, that when an attractive man put on a moisture-wicking outdoorsy vest, he got twenty times hotter. Thirty if he was wearing a plaid shirt. And God help you if the sleeves were rolled up to expose forearms. There was no coming back for your ovaries if that was the case.

Henry was wearing a damn vest…over a burgundy plaid shirt. A color that brought out the rich texture of his skin.

I was totally screwed.

The clearing of a throat brings me out of my thoughts. I realize my eyeline was…just below his beltline. My cheeks heat and turn an embarrassing red. I’m going to blame it on the vest paradox. It was throwing me off my game.

A strained smile spreads across my face while I give him a little wave. The amusement of how awkward I’m being is written all over Henry’s face.

It wasn’t just the vest and plaid combo that was grabbing my attention, it was also how…normal Henry looked right now. With his outdoor gear on and a backpack thrown over his shoulder, he looked like your average, run-of-the-mill outdoor enthusiast. Not an earl. Not someone royal.

And wasn’t that just shitty of me.

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