Page 181 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“I’ll check the truck. Maybe Ma has something in there to cover you up.”
“Thanks.” I shiver.
He turns and strides toward the truck. My eyes flicker from watching him to the water around me.
Then he’s back, shaking his head. “Just this.” He holds up his Stetson.
“What are we supposed to do now?”
His lips twitch as if he’s about to say something, but then he gives me a helpless look.
“We’re going home like this, aren’t we?”
“Unless you want to call your sisters?”
I shake my head.
“I could call my brothers.”
“Hell, no. Can you imagine the rumors they would spread around town?”
He quirks an eyebrow up. “Can I imagine the rumors?”
“Right.” I clear my throat. “All the rumors I’ve spread about you.”
“There’s been a couple.”
“To be fair, I didn’t know they would latch on quite the way they did.”
“Is this your idea of an apology?”
“I feel like that’s the best you’ll get. I’m not good at apologies because I’m rarely wrong.”
He laughs. “Half-ass apology accepted, and if we’re lucky, no one will be at the campground when we get back.”
I shoot him a glare, but it’s hard to stay mad when he’s standing there, soaking wet and completely naked. Then he’s walking toward me. Not a lick of self-consciousness or insecurity.
“Here.” His arm stretches the distance between us, holding out his hat.
I take it. “Thank you. Now turn around and walk ahead.”
He smirks at me.
“This isn’t enough to cover all of me, so just don’t look until I’m in the truck.”
“You really think I’m going to look? That my ma didn’t raise a better gentleman in me?”
I swear I hear that grumpy ass man chuckle as he walks away. I give him a good few feet head start, his back turned, before I start inching my way toward the truck.
The entire process is ridiculous. I half-walk, half-crouch as I make my way to the truck, shielding myself with whatever’s left of my dignity.
I try to climb into the seat with as much grace as I can muster. Which means I jump in, cross my legs, buckle in, and cover my breasts with the hat.
“You good in there?”
I suppress the urge to groan.
“Yes. Get in, but don’t look at me.”
