Page 22 of A Sweet Mess

A campfire dinner with stars spilling out of the sky. A shared conversation—softened to a whisper in deference to the majesty of nature. Knees brushing, fingers tangling, and…Sweet Lord.She couldnotendure a night in the woods with him.

“Do you even have camping gear?” she asked.

“I didn’t exactly have time to pack before coming to rescue you.”

“Rescue me? Oh, please.” She couldn’t pull off her blasé attitude since he did kind of rescue her. “Either way, you don’t have any camping gear. No gear, no camping. Let’s just drive to Bosque Verde now.”

“You and I drove close to three hours to get here. Why waste a perfectly good opportunity to unwind?”

“But… but…”

“Do you have a tent?”

Aubrey nodded while trying to figure out what game he was playing.

“I’m sure you could fit one more person in it.” Landonsquinted at the sky. “We should set up before the sun goes down.”

“It could get into the forties at night,” she said, her voice pitched louder than necessary. “You’ll freeze to death without a sleeping bag.”

“I doubt you’ll let me die.” Landon perused her body from head to toe and then back to her warm face.Is he planning to use me as a heat pack?He held her gaze for a second too long before turning away. “I saw you bring a stack of blankets from the Jeep. Those should do fine.”

“Fine,” Aubrey huffed. If he wasn’t nervous about being squished into a tent with her, then neither was she. Well, she was, but she could stop anytime she wanted. Just click off the nervous switch. There. Done.

You are not irresistible, Landon Kim.

Where the hell are these supposed to go?Landon stared down at the two tent rods in his hands.

“Let me guess. You weren’t a Boy Scout,” Aubrey said, her laughter trilling like silver bells. “I told you I’ll pitch the tent.”

He glowered at her. “I’m trying to contribute.”

He’d never slept in a tent before. Growing up by the beach, he could ride the waves and scuba dive like a semiaquatic mammal. He was also an excellent skier. All in all, he was athletic and outdoorsy—just not a freaking Boy Scout.Does preferring a comfortable bed make me a wimp?

He sneaked a glance toward Aubrey. She’d stopped laughing, but the corners of her mouth trembled suspiciously. For the twentieth time, he wondered what had possessed him to insist on camping. It was rash. Impulsive. He didn’t do rash orimpulsive. Not anymore. That was his old self. A chip off the old block. Bitterness-like crushed aspirin-filled him. He blinked rapidly, pushing away uninvited thoughts of his father.

“You can contribute by making dinner.” Aubrey bit her lips then tucked her chin, doing a very poor job of hiding her amusement.

“With pleasure,” he said without hesitation.

Despite his wounded pride, Landon grinned. He enjoyed her laughter even though it was at his own expense. Scraping up what was left of his dignity, he sat on a nearby stump to watch Aubrey work.

I’m going to cook for her.The realization sneaked up on him with the swiftness of a pickpocket. It happened so quickly, he wasn’t sure how to feel. All these years, he’d refused to cook for anybody, including himself. His sudden decision to upend his self-imposed rule should’ve left him shaken to the core, or maybe come with a life-altering epiphany. Instead, he felt calm as though cooking for Aubrey was the most natural thing to do.

While Landon processed his decision, Aubrey had the tent set up in fifteen minutes flat. He whistled under his breath. “I can see you’ve done that a few times.”

“When I was little, my dad used to whisk me away for impromptu camping trips.” She stilled for a second, then shrugged. “And living in Weldon, it’s hard not to take advantage of the outdoors. It’s practically in your backyard.”

Landon pursed his lips.Another one with daddy issues?He shelved away the question for another day to address a more pressing issue. The tent was about the size of his coat closet with a lower ceiling.

“Do you think I’ll fit in there?” he asked. He didn’t mind squeezing into a tiny tent with Aubrey, but keeping his hands off her would be torture.

“Don’t worry. Guys bigger and taller than you have slept in it without trouble.”

He gave himself whiplash, snapping his head toward her. Her profile told him nothing of her intent, but imagining Aubrey with big, tall men rubbed him the wrong way. Rubbed him raw.Goddamn it.Was he jealous? No, because that would be ridiculous.

“If you say so.” He contorted his face into what he hoped was a smile. “Thanks for saving me from sleeping like a pretzel in my car.”

“Sure thing, I guess. You sort of invited yourself.” Her grin softened the bite of her words, and his lips spread into a genuine smile. They stood grinning at each other until Aubrey abruptly broke eye contact and glanced at the sky. “We should get the campfire going. It’ll get dark soon.”

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