Page 25 of Roughing It

“Pop your feet in my lap.” I don’t move, and he frowns. “Let me take care of you.”

Those words send a flutter through me, dumping me right back into horny on main territory. Biting my lip to keep from saying something I’ll regret, likekiss it all better, Daddy,Ilean back into the couch cushion as he settles my feet in his lap.

“Soak in Epsom salt tonight. It’ll help any muscle soreness from overcompensating for your feet.” Hudson’s touch is gentle as he rubs in ointment and wraps the blistered areas in moleskin. He gives each foot one last squeeze before slipping on a fresh pair of thick socks. “Your gear is good quality.”

I love how surprised he sounds. “I did my research.”

“It shows. The problem is leather boots like yours have to be broken in over days or even weeks. Again, that’s on me. If I’d checked your gear first, I’d have noticed they’re brand new out of the box.”

As he talks, he grabs the demon boots, bending them and working the soles back and forth.

“Slip on some shoes that won’t kill your feet and load up. We’re running back to town and grab you a pair of light hikers. They’ll do while we break in these sturdier ones. Ruined feet won’t do you any good out here. You also need a warmer coat, gloves, and some rain gear.”

“Wait, you’re taking me shopping?” I raise one eyebrow. “Is this a trick?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “We leave in five. Be ready, or I’ll?—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. You’ll leave without me.”

Hudson keeps up his silent treatment the entire drive to Trail Creek and back, breaking it once to get my shoe size and once more to veto the only cute rain jacket in the entire store. Apparently, it wasn’t “functional” enough for the king of the outdoors.

Back at the cabin, I once again attempt to pass the time by making small talk with him, but after my tenth unanswered question, I give up and decide to do a quick live.

I definitely don’t mention the failure of the hike. Instead, I focus on the cabin itself. My BBs love the tour of the comfycottage—and the quick flashes I give them of an oblivious Hudson in a fitted t-shirt and dark joggers. The flood of comments and reactions pump pleasure into my brain, and by the time I wrap up, I’m fizzy with the dopamine dose. It’s almost enough to make me forget about my aching feet and the grumpy bear who won’t speak to me eighty percent of the time. And why it bothers me so much.

I rise from my makeshift command center and shuffle to the couch, stretching my stiff body. Like a weight, Hudson’s eyes drag over me, wandering my curves as I arch my back.

“See something you like?”

He freezes, his shoulders tensing. “No.”

I can’t resist teasing him. “I’m down to share the bed.”

A blush spreads to his ears. HisI’m embarrassedtell.

“I’m not sleeping on this couch again. You can suck it up and share the bed with me, oryoucan take the couch.”

He opens and shuts his mouth before muttering, “I don’t sleep with clients.”

A tendril of disappointment curls in my heart. “Is that another of your rules?”

He nods, arms crossed over his strapping chest.

“Look, Bear, I’m sure you’re aware of how attractive you are, but you must also be aware of your awful attitude. Trust me. When I say I’m willing to share the bed with you, the only thing I intend to do is sleep.”

He grunts but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he retreats the handful of steps to the kitchen.

“Aw, you aren’t afraid of little old me, are you?”

“That doesn’t deserve an answer.”

“What a shocker,” I say to myself before speaking up. “I’ll build a pillow wall between us, keep my cooties on my side. But seriously, please don’t make me sleep on this medieval torture device of a couch again.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“For an hour or two at a time, you’re right. But for an entire night? No. It’s worse than bad.”

“Fine.”

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