“Right. A professional emergency buffalo hide sharing.”

“Exactly.” She pulls the hide tighter around herself, and I can’t help but notice how close we are now.

“Should we try to get some sleep? With the early morning hike and the stress from being stuck in here after a busy workday, I’m beat.”

“Yeah, sleep is a good idea,” I say.

“Well, good night, Sawyer.”

“Good night, Reese.”

I close my eyes, but I’m anything but sleepy, especially now that I’m inches away from Reese. The woman I used to tease but have grown more and more fond of in the days we’ve been spending together.

I can hear her breathing in the quiet room, feel the warmth radiating from her body under the shared hide. When did she stop being the uptight historian who corrected my every question? Now all I can think about is how her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about, or the way she gets this little crease between her eyebrows when she’sconcentrating on explaining territorial mining laws. The way she laughs at my terrible jokes, even when she’s trying not to.

She’s brilliant and stubborn and completely dedicated to things most people would find boring. She cares about getting the details right, about making sure people understand not just what happened, but why it mattered. And somehow, over these past few weeks, watching her get excited about old maps and mining claims has become the best part of my day.

“Reese, are you asleep?” I whisper.

There’s a pause, then: “No. Are you?”

“Obviously not, since I’m talking to you.”

I hear her soft laugh in the darkness. “Good point.”

We both stay silent for a moment, and the tension builds between us like a live wire.

“Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For earlier. What you said about my work mattering.” Her voice is quiet, vulnerable. “I needed to hear that.”

I turn toward her, and even in the dim light, I can see her face. “I meant every word.”

“I know you did. That’s what makes it…” She trails off.

“Makes it what?”

“Dangerous.”

My heart starts beating faster. “Dangerous how?”

She turns to face me fully now, and we’re so close I can feel her breath on my face. “Because it makes me want things I shouldn’t want.”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

The air between us feels electric. Every rational thought tells me to keep my distance, maintain the professional boundary,but then she reaches up and touches my cheek with her fingertips, and all of that goes out the window.

“Reese...” I start, but she’s already moving closer.

“Tell me this is a bad idea,” she whispers against my lips.

“This is a terrible idea,” I murmur back.

“Good,” she breathes, and leans in closer.