Page 10 of Just Act Natural

My hand finally darts into the pocket to grab a bar. I zip the pack back up, and we continue on. “Thank you for sharing your loot. How did you get away with bringing extra food, anyway? Deena didn’t even want me to bring underwear.”

“I didn’t tell her.”

“You’re such a rebel,” I tease.

His wide grin holds a hint of mischief. “Bad to the bone.”

I can tell already Grant Irwin is not the bad boy type. He’s more of a Clark Kent, minus the glasses. Even his granola bar flavor of choice fits the persona: vanilla. The bright yellow label says it’s high-protein and gluten-free, a very sensible option on the trail. If I’d brought snacks, they would have been the kind slathered with chocolate that probably sap your energy more than they replenish it.

I take a bite and chew. And chew. And chew some more. His gaze is heavy on me as I try to choke down the snack he so generously offered.

“You don’t like it?”

“It tastes really healthy.” It might be the driest thing I’veever eaten. But I need the calories, so I keep swallowing it down.

Grant chuckles. “You don’t have to finish it.”

I cover my mouth so I don’t spit sawdust at him. “I don’t mind. It’s good.”

“Your face tells a different story.”

That story is probably titledI Deeply Regret Putting This in My Mouth.

Even with a little bit of food in my stomach, I’ve lost what scrap of enthusiasm I had for the day. Especially when I have to fumble around with my hydration pack’s bite valve every time I want a drink of water. Who thought using SCUBA gear the wrong way was a good idea?

He notices me sucking away at the dumb thing, but I throw a hand up between us. “Please. This is humiliating enough without an audience.”

He averts his eyes. “It can be a little awkward.”

“A little? It’s like a bunch of guys sat in a room and said, ‘What’s the least-convenient way to drink water?’”

“Maybe, but it’s the most convenient way to carry a large volume of water in a backpack.” He takes a sip from his own hydration pack as if proving his point. The long tube snakes from the large water bladder hidden in his backpack to where he bites the end with his white teeth.

I should not be noticing this guy’s mouth so much. My eyes are constantly either on his lips or that dimple in his chin. You’d think I haven’t been around a man since I moved back to Sunshine six months ago.

After the way things blew apart with Josh, I haven’t been looking. Dating’s a risky road I’m not ready for yet. But it’s hard not to be at least a little bit interested in a guy with a perfect dimple in his chin and a secret snack stash, no matter how disgusting the snacks are.

No. This line of thinking is unproductive. In fivemore days,Grant Irwin from Texaswill be heading back home. There’s no point in thinking a single one of those thoughts.

Except…okay. The dimplereallydoes it for me.

“Is it bad that I’m glad I’m not the only newbie?” I blurt out just to shut up my racing brain. I stuff the granola bar wrapper into my pocket to dispose of properly later. “I was afraid when I signed up for this everyone else would leave me in the dust with their amazing survival skills.”

“You’re making light of my survival skills after I gave you a clandestine granola bar?”

See? Only Clark Kent and his newspaper reporter vocabulary would throw out the wordclandestinewhen talking about snack food.

“I’m just saying, I wasn’t sure anyone else would be new to all of this. I’m happy that it’s not just me out here taking notes on how the outdoors works.”

“You’re taking notes, are you?”

“Oh, yeah. Rule number one: always accept offered snacks.”

Eventually, we see Mitchell waiting on the trail for us. When we get closer, he waves us toward a small path off to the left and passes us each a baggie of trail mix.

The trail mix includes chocolate candies. Bless him.

“Campsite’s this way.”

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