Page 73 of Best Part of Me

I roll my eyes and smack at the backside of my pants, and she snorts a laugh again. I can’t help it, and I join in, laughing with her.

“You’re gonna delete that picture, right?”

She flashes me a wily smile, and my eyes darken. Seeing her bright smile on her gorgeous face has me feeling wild for her once again. I hunker down, taking a stance that shows her I’m ready to charge at her.

“Not on your life. It’s adorable.” She hobbles as she backs up.

And I’m like a bull with tunnel vision. I dart at her and wrap my arms around her body before lifting her and throwing her over my shoulder. She squeals, and we both laugh. The sound of her joy fills my heart to the brim.

“Just wait until I get you back to the tent,” I warn, giving her a soft pat on her ass.

“My caveman,” she teases.

* * *

Our driveto Canyonlands is short. It’s so close to Arches that we didn’t even need to move campgrounds for the night. This is our last national park before we head home tomorrow. I wish I could extend our trip by a few more days. Ending this—whatever it is—is going to be much harder than I thought.

The end of our time together is making every glance, every touch, every conversation, feel heavy. I’m desperate not to let Cammie more than a foot away from me. This possessive feeling isn’t something I’m used to.

So when a guy initiates a conversation with her at the base of the cascading red rock formations while I’m engrossed in taking photographs of the river, a burning sensation takes residence in my chest. I try to focus while I peer through my lens, hoping for that perfect shot of the river while a raft full of people rides the rapids. But the guy’s mumbles distract me from my task, and I lower my camera to survey the situation.

The conversation appears harmless. Cammie has her arms crossed, and it accentuates her perfect rack. The guy’s gaze shifts to get a good look, and I guess I can’t blame him for it. She has a nice set of tits. But when Cammie snorts a laugh into her hand, my ears burn, and my stomach hardens.

She steps onto a small rock and loses her balance, but she quickly rights herself before falling forward. The guy reaches out to catch her anyway, grabbing a handful of Cammie’s full ass.

I see fucking stars as I take an eager step closer to her. After her fall yesterday, she’s got me on high alert today. “Hey, you okay?”

“Oh, hey, Mav.” She says my nickname so effortlessly now, but it gets me going all the same. “I’m fine.”

The guy with shoulder-length dark hair and hippie vibes glances my way, and I give him a tight smile.

“So, when are you going back to Virginia?” Camille asks the hippie.

“Supposed to go home for the holidays.”

“How long has it been since you’ve been home?” she asks.

“A year.”

“I’m sure they really miss you.”

My attention flicks back and forth between them. How does she know so much about this guy after only a few minutes?

“I could delay my plans,” the hippie says, brows raised and insinuation in his tone that I don’t much like. “How long are you here till?”

“Just tonight. Heading back home tomorrow.”

“That’s too bad.” The hippie’s gaze lingers too long over Cammie’s perfectly round ass as she shifts to the side.

I see spots in my vision and clench my teeth. “If you don’t mind moving along, you’re blocking the view.”

The guy continues staring at Cammie as he says, “Seems to me I’m looking at the best view.”

A flash of anger surges beneath my skin, and a vein pulses in my neck. “I think you better fucking stop looking.”

We catch the attention of a few people around us.

“Maverick, chill,” Cammie says, though I hardly hear her as my heartbeat pounds hot blood in my ears.

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