Page 48 of Roughing It

“Why is your top off?” My voice is ragged and rasping. Without thinking, I close the space between us, yanking my t-shirt off before slipping it over her head.

Her surprised squeak pulls me back to reality, and I huff out a laugh.

Blakely wriggles her arms through the sleeves and presses her lips into a thin line. “You could have asked me to put my top back on.”

“Wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Blakely grins. “Did the idea of me topless short-circuit your brain?”

“Everything about you short circuits my brain.” I extend a hand and pull her from the water. I realize my mistake onceshe steps out of the hot spring. The brilliant idea I had to cover her up is now see-through. Fuck. Me.

She arches one delicate eyebrow at me, and I spin, giving her my back. “Trying to be a gentleman here, Blakely.”

The rustling of clothing calls to me like a lure to a fish, but I stand firm. It isn’t until she laughs and gives me the all-clear that I turn back to her. It’s not that I don’t want to see her; I do, but…

“We need to finish our talk.”

“About your parents? Your apology? Kissing?”

“Yes.” She holds her hands out in exasperation.

“Your family. Why you’re here.”

Blakely makes a sour face. “Talking about my past requires something stronger than a hot spring.”

“How do you feel about whiskey?”

“I’m usually more of a wine girlie. But when in the wilderness.” She shrugs.

I brush my lips against hers, pack up our picnic—fuck, she’s got me calling it a goddamn picnic now—and guide her to the Jeep.

The ride back to the cabin is quiet but comfortable. I figure we’re both lost in our thoughts. Two factions war in my mind. Side one shouts that I’m an idiot setting myself up for a Paige redux. I’m endangering my business. My reputation.

The other side isn’t screaming. No. It’s a quiet, steady beat. Encouraging me to be brave and do what I want for once.

And fuck it. What I want is Blakely Bradshaw in her annoying, bold, infuriating, and bewitching glory.

When I pull into the familiar clearing, I say, “Why don’t you shower, and I’ll make us some dinner.”

Blakely nods, and I take my time unpacking the Jeep to give her a semblance of privacy. Once we’ve showered and eaten, Igrab two lowball glasses, drop ice in each, and pour generous servings for us.

“Sip it.”

My laugh when she takes a drink and sputters earns me a glare. Rubbing her back, I croon, “Breathe through it. It’ll grow on you.”

“So…” She coughs and glares at the whiskey. “Which awkward topic do you want to tackle first? My childhood trauma? Your repressed emotions? Breaking the no kissing rule?”

I shake my head. Leave it to her to lay it all out. Drawing a long drink from my glass, I weigh the pros and cons of each topic. “Let’s move to the couch.”

Blakely curls up beside me while I study the amber liquid like it’ll tell me what to say. Scratching my beard, I mumble, “Why do you think I have issues with my family?”

Her soft hand pulls my face so we are eye to eye. “I said repressed emotions.” At my wan smile, she gives me a sweet kiss. “From what I can tell, you have a wonderful family, better than most. But I also think you carry an unnecessary amount of pressure. How much of that is because of the way you learned your trade? How much of that is who you are? It’s not a bad thing, Bear. I just wonder what you’d be like without the weight of expectations around your neck.”

Her words swirl in my head. When I don’t answer, she presses on. “What about Paige? You admitted she still colors your perspective.”

I stiffen at the mention of my ex. “I apologized for that.”

“You did. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing.” Blakely gives me a small smile. “How about we change gears for a bit?”

---