Page 40 of Just Act Natural

“We won’t go far, and I’ll have my bear spray at the ready.”

“That wasn’t a yes.”

He tilts his head down, fighting a smile. “I’ll keep you safe, princess.”

A tremor runs through me, but I tell myself it’s only because of the falling temperature. “I guess I’m up for it.”

He looks me over. “Is this the warmest gear you have?”

I’m in my fleece-lined leggings, long-sleeved nightshirt, and fleece jacket. “You don’t think it’s enough?”

Crouching, he rummages around in the tent before reappearing with something in his hands. “Here.”

He slips a knit beanie over my head. I’ve kept my hair in two braids since the swim yesterday, and after he rights the hat, he runs his hands over their ends. “That should help.”

He pulls a similar hat down on his own head. Now he’s all blue eyes, huge smile, and beard. I kind of miss the dimple, but the beard is winning me over.

“Wait—this is even more stuff you’re not supposed to have!” I whisper-shout it, but I think he gets the point.

“And I regret nothing. You look good wearing my hat. Ready?”

I’m…flustered. Speechless. Delightfully warm.

He grabs a flashlight and zips his tent closed before headingalong the path we took to find the mountain views this afternoon. The rest of camp is quiet. Mitchell’s about to climb into his tent as we pass.

“Don’t go too far,” he says like a true camp dad.

Grant acknowledges him with a wave. “We won’t.”

The deeper we go along the path, the darker it gets. Soon, I’m struggling to keep from tripping over imaginary rocks and tree roots. “I can’t see anything.”

Grant stops and takes my hand. I cling to his arm, committing his biceps to memory.

“Sorry. It’s not much farther.”

He’s right—my stomach’s still soaring from the warmth of his hand and the press of his arm when we reach a small clearing. He leads us to a fallen log, and after checking it for anything unexpected, we sit down.

“Do you do this a lot?” I ask.

He flicks off the flashlight and turns to me in the sudden darkness. “Lead women into the forest?”

I nudge him with my shoulder. “Go stargazing.”

He nods—I think. My vision’s still swimming from the aftershocks of the flashlight glare.

“I noticed this spot on our walk. Seemed like a good place.”

“How often do you go on trips like this?” Obviously it’s a lot, if Mitchell’s claiming he’s climbed half the mountains in the country.

“A couple of times a year. I took a lot more when I was younger.”

“How old are you? You keep talking about your younger years as if you’re ready for retirement.”

He turns his face toward me in the dark. I can’t see his features anymore, only shadowy outlines of black on black. “Thirty-six.”

“You’re right, that is pretty old.” I nudge him again becauseapparently, I can’t stop teasing him. “I’m thirty, so I’m still in the prime of life.”

“No argument there.”

---