Page 73 of The Bodyguard Situation

I glance at her over my shoulder as I gather our clothes. “Like something you see?”

She chews on her plump bottom lip. “We’re past like.”

Harper confidently steps out of the water, and I glance away, giving her privacy.

“You can look,” she mutters, running her fingers through her soaked hair. “I want you to see what you’ve been missing out on.”

My eyes slide from hers, down her body, and I absorb every small detail—the graceful curve of her neck, the soft strands of hair still damp from the waterfall. Her beautiful breasts and little pink nipples that are pointed like peeks. I slide down her stomach and notice a tattoo on her lower hip.

“Wait, you have a tattoo?”

She laughs, taking her clothes from my grasp. “Yes.”

“What does it say?” I bend down to look at the cursive writing.

She grins. “Little Miss Disaster.”

Laughter howls out of me as we dress.

“Guess my nickname for you is permanent then?”

“Kinda stuck forever,” she tells me. “I did try to kiss you then puked on you. I earned it.”

“If at first you don’t succeed,” I say, not finishing, because I’m so damn glad she didn’t give up on me.

Need and want simmer below the surface of our stolen glances. I can feel it in the charged silence, in every smoldering glance Harper sends my way as she pulls on her shirt.

The first faint raindrops begin falling onto the leaves, and I can hear the whoosh of rainfall and wind in the distance.

I hold my hand out for her, and we start along the winding trail back toward the cabin. Our footsteps are muffled by the soft forest floor as the world around us darkens beneath the gathering storm clouds.

“Seems like I’m always running from a storm, figuratively and literally,” Harper says, glancing upward as another low rumble vibrates overhead.

“It’s not you. The weather is unpredictable this time of year. I should’ve looked at the radar. This is why I’m not spontaneous,” I reply, matching my steps to hers. “If we keep this pace, we’ll return before the heavy stuff hits.”

She gives me a faint smile, bumping her shoulder playfully against mine. “Just know there’s no one else I’d rather be caught in the rain with.”

I chuckle, casting her a sideways glance. “Fucking same.”

Harper looks up at me, eyes sparkling with amusement, and her lips turn up into a mischievous smile.

“What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Nothing,” she says, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she glances away, biting back a grin. “Just trying to get the image of your perfect ass out of my head.”

“Good luck.” I shake my head slowly, my laughter gentle and deep as we step around a cluster of tree roots, our path growing steadily narrower. “I’m what dreams are made of.”

“There’s that Calloway cockiness I’ve missed,” she counters.

I lift a brow at her, and she shrugs.

I let myself relax, allowing her laughter and teasing to fill spaces in me I thought were permanently empty.

Our silence is comfortable, easy, as the distant roll of thunder grows closer. More raindrops fall, tapping more steadily through the canopy above.

The cabin comes into view just as the bottom falls from the sky. The rain feels like ice against my hot skin. Harper quickens her pace, reaching out to tug my hand lightly. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder as I sprint to the porch.

“Brody!” she yells while laughing. “You can’t pick me up like a caveman and just throw me over your shoulder whenever you want to.”

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