Page 50 of Mr. Hook-up

“Sure.” I tilted my head. “That surprises you?”

Her hand returned to my arm, this time my bicep. “Honestly ... yes.”

“Why?”

“You have to promise me you won’t take this the wrong way, okay?”

“For the record, nothing good ever leads to a conversation that starts that way.” I winked. “Go on.”

Her teeth scraped across her lip. “I just assumed you were more of the bougie type. A private jet, a penthouse in the Back Bay, your own personal chef, a driver. I can’t envision you spending a weekend in a tent in the middle of the woods without a toilet in sight.”

I shook the ice around in my glass. “All right, all right. You’ve got a point. But what if I’m a little of both?”

“That still surprises me.”

I had this burning desire to tell her more about myself.

And with that emotion came another.

It didn’t feel as though I were talking to a colleague or even an acquaintance. It felt like I was talking to an old friend.

Someone who had already seen hints of my foundation.

Someone who had already peeked beneath the button-down and jeans I had on.

Regardless, there was no way she could know any of this, so I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to hear it from my mouth.

Even though I didn’t know why.

“I’m the youngest of three with two older sisters,” I told her. “My parents couldn’t afford to put us all in summer camp, so the five of us would go camping on the weekends. Even now, there’s something to be said for stripping away every amenity and sleeping under the stars.” I held the back of my neck, rubbing the muscles that suddenly felt tight.“I’ve gone on trips where the tents have bathrooms, and I’ve slept in a sleeping bag outside in the woods.” I grinned. “I’m trying to earn the title of Mr.Versatile. How’d I do?”

“I’d say you succeeded.” She shifted around in her seat, our knees briefly grazing, a heat instantly soaring through my body. “I’m sort of embarrassed now to admit that I’ve never been.”

“For any particular reason?”

She shrugged, breaking eye contact. “Mom appreciated bathrooms. Then came college and work and California, and the opportunity never presented itself. Traveling, yes. Camping”—she shook her head—“no.”

“I think you’d like it.”

A hint of a smile crept over her mouth. “What would give you that impression?”

My gaze wandered over her as I exhaled. “Think of what it would feel like to be in a place that has no cell service. Where you’re completely unreachable. I can imagine that type of break would rejuvenate someone who works as hard as you.”

“And here I thought you were going to tell me that I’m the type who can really rock a long weekend of using dry shampoo.”

I chuckled. “That too.”

“Thank you for both compliments.” Her eyes lightened in a way I hadn’t seen before. “So let me ask this”—she leaned a little bit closer to me—“you’re cozy in front of the campfire. The beer, wine, whatever, is going down like water. At some point, it’s time for bed and you’re all comfy in your sleeping bag until the urge to pee wakes you out of a dead sleep. You tiptoe out of the tent and there’s mama bear checking out the s’mores you made a few hours before. What then?”

Damn it.

The sexiest woman alive was showing me her adorable side, and I was eating it up.

“Let me make sure I understand the real question here. Are you asking where you would go pee in the middle of the night or what you’d do about the bear?”

She laughed. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this—or that I even brought this up, it’s the wine’s fault, I swear—but both.”

I wanted so badly to move the hair that was now sticking to her glossy lip, but touching her, getting too near, wouldn’t help me fight the urge I was already battling.

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