Page 55 of Love By a Landslide

He was met with a sidelong glower. “Yes. I’m washing a single shirt.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Then what in the hell—”

“You’ll see.” Her sing-song voice nearly brought a smile to his face until he remembered something very important.

Jonathan disliked surprises. He crossed his arms and indignantly held his tongue. A few years back, Frankie had planned a surprise party at his house for his thirtieth birthday. But when he’d pulled up in the driveway and spotted a figure movingin the front window, he’d grabbed the wooden bat he kept in the back of the Subaru. Ready to attack, he walked through the front door. The lights came on, and everyone yelled, “Surprise!” Jonathan swung, managing to destroy his side table lamp as Zac narrowly leapt out of the way.

Scratch that. Jonathanhatedsurprises. It didn’t matter if they were well-intentioned or not. Surprises often meant danger in his line of work: lost supplies, injury, or someone getting separated from the group.

Or worse. A shiver strummed up his spine.

Things going according to plan—that’s what Jonathan liked.

“Almost ready,” Lucy mumbled after dipping her fingers into the warming water. Using a thick hiking sock as a pot holder, she carried it over and placed it at Jonathan’s feet. She knelt down, glanced up, and smiled. “Shirt.”

“Huh?”

“Take off your shirt.”

Did she want him to take a sponge bath? He kept his arms crossed and covertly sniffed in the direction of his armpit. Ugh. He needed a good washing, but this was so low on the priority list. Why did she even care? His neck warmed with embarrassment and a bit of offense. “Just because you’re squeaky clean and don’t want to bunk with someone who isn’t doesn’t mean we should be wasting water like we’re on vacation.”

Lucy pulled back. Her eyebrows drew together for a moment, and then her expression relaxed in understanding. “Jonathan,” she said gently, shifting forward and placing a hand on his knee. “This has nothing to do with you smelling bad—though you and I both know you do—this is about making you feel better. After the lake, I felt like a million bucks. Then I got back to camp, and you were lying in the dirt, andI felt so guilty. Let me help you. I promise it will lift your spirits a little.” She winked and nibbled her bottom lip. “Let me make you feel good.”

Chapter twenty-eight

Jonathan

Wow.

There she was, trying to take care of him again. She didn’t have to do that. Lucy owed Jonathan nothing, yet she continually thought of him and his comfort.

The heat at his neck bloomed down his chest, taking on a different form. Appreciation.

I could get used to this.

The thought skittered through his mind, and he shook it away as he acknowledged the facts. She was not his. She was never going to be his because if she was . . .

He might lose her.

The notion was suffocating, and Jonathan quickly banished the feelings.

He let out a sigh. She was right. He’d probably feel better after getting cleaned up a bit. In the morning, he would wake up feeling more like himself. Then they could get the hell out of there and back to town, where Jonathan could resume his trusty routine and responsibility-free social life.

He unfastened the buttons along his shirt and removed the plaid layer with Lucy’s help. Then, grasping the hem, he carefully peeled off his sweaty T-shirt with a slightly pained grunt. Lucy folded both and set them on one end of the log. She handed him the neon pink top and set about removing his boots. He heldthe shirt in his hands, taking in the brightness of the fabric and thinking how well it hugged Lucy’s curves. Glancing down at the top of her head as she freed a double knot from his bootlaces, he swallowed convulsively. He really needed to keep his thoughts in check while she was down there or she’d be getting an awkward eyeful of his reaction to her.

Jonathan began washing his arms and chest, looking anywhere except for her head bobbing around as she worked to loosen his other boot. The smell of cooling peppermint wafted up, and he focused his attention on the soothing,calmingscent. He swiped the fragrant cloth across his armpits and belly. But when he tried to reach his back, he hissed in pain.

Whatever, half-clean is better than nothing at all.

“Here,” Lucy said. Having removed his second boot, she reached out her hand.

“You don’t have to.” Jonathan pulled the tank back to his chest to keep her from snatching it away. Her glittering eyes followed the movement and lingered on his bare torso. He thought he saw hunger on her face as she licked her lips, but before he could make a joke about how he wasn’t a hamburger on legs, she spoke.

“I’ll help. It’s no big deal.” Her voice was strained yet resolute.

Jonathan grunted and handed over the makeshift rag. Lucy dipped it in the warm water, rang it out gently, and moved around to his back. She hesitated, almost catching Jonathan by surprise when she finally wiped in slow, steady movements across his shoulders. A single drip broke free and slid down the length of his spine. Lucy’s gentle fingers swiped it away just before it hit the waist of his pants. Her touch was electric, and Jonathan’s muscles clenched at the contact.

“Relax. Tensing up won’t help.” Her breathy admonishmenttickled over his damp shoulders, a chill rippled through him, and his belly tightened. Blood began making its way to parts of him that he’d been trying so hard to keep unresponsive. Getting an erection would be . . . not great, and Jonathan didn’t want to do anything to make Lucy feel uncomfortable, especially since they’d be sharing a hammock for at least one more night.

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