Kevin had received an email with a list of half the items needed for the next week, while Shanna had been sent the other half. Meaning they would have to share. He tapped the empty beer bottle against the side of his leg. “No. You can’t really be serious about this.”
Nash bent to gather up the toys in the blanket before starting toward the house. “I’m dead serious.”
“Come on. Camping? Shanna’s not going to last a day in a tent, let alone a week.”
“That’s what the team building is about. Help each other. Make it work.”
“I’ll do all the work while she sits there afraid to break a nail or get her clothes dirty.”
“Don’t underestimate her.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not.”
An unsympathetic shrug lifted Nash’s shoulder. “You two need to figure out how to deal with whatever this animosity is between you. You’re professional adults who should be able to work together in a civilized manner.”
“You don’t understand. That’s pretty much impossible at this point.”
His friend plunked the blanket on the patio table and turned so they faced each other across the table. “Why are you so sure if you haven’t even tried?”
Kevin shifted his stance and winced. “We…slept together.”
Nash shook his head with a should’ve known grimace. “So, that’s what this is all about. When did this happen? When you first met, or more recently?”
“Uh…’bout a month ago.”
Not that he hadn’t noticed her back when they first met. She was younger than him by two years, held a lower position in the company, had less experience than him, and yet something about the woman had intimidated the hell out of him from day one. He’d gone on the defense and discovered rather quickly she had an uppity attitude to match her smart, sophisticated, ice princess exterior.
His friend’s eyebrows reversed direction. “Obviously things didn’t turn out well.”
Oh, the together part had gone extremely well—it was the after that tanked.
“It was awful the next morning, so I left. Ever since then, she’s been worse than ever.”
“What do you mean, you left?”
“I left and went home.” When Nash gave him a look of disbelief, he lifted his palms up with annoyance. “What was I supposed to do? Stay and start planning a wedding?”
“Of course not, dumbass, but most people get that you don’t run out first thing in the morning.”
“If I’d stayed any longer, she probably would’ve started throwing things at my head.”
“So she was pissed off?”
“That’s an understatement. Picture the worst you’ve seen us at the office and double it.”
“Why?”
Kevin frowned as he gripped the chair in front of him. “What do you mean, why? How the hell should I know?”
“You’re the one who slept with her. Did you say or do something to set her off?”
“No,” he denied, offended that’s the first assumption his friend made. “She’s just an uptight control freak. It was obvious she didn’t want me there, so I got the hell out.”
Nash gave a heavy sigh as he dropped down in one of the patio chairs. “How in the world did you get together in the first place?”
“We had a client dinner.” Kevin pulled out a chair opposite to sit as well. “Things went well, and after we secured the new account, I tossed out an invite for her to stay for a celebratory drink. It shocked the hell out of me when she said yes.”
Shocked the hell out of him he’d even asked, but looking back, the invite had been sparked by a heightened sense of awareness from the second she entered the restaurant. Instead of her trademark, flawless cascade of straight, blond hair past her shoulders, she’d twisted surprisingly wavy strands into an understated, sexy bun at the nape of her neck with a few loose strands framing her face. A flowing, wine-red summer dress was decidedly more feminine than the cool, business suits and dresses she favored, and her smile had flashed in his direction without the usual frosty edge.
For years, he’d endured an electric current of attraction when near her, but that night, he’d seen a side of her he wouldn’t have believed existed. She’d been softer. Warm even. The ice princess thawed as she let down her guard and actually talked to him like a real person instead of an adversary. They’d laughed and joked through one drink and then another, and later, they’d even danced to a couple of songs they both liked.
He might have fallen a bit in love with Fun Shanna that evening, only to have the next morning and the past month turn into pure hell with Prima Donna Shanna. Physically, he wanted her more than ever, but the walls between them now sported hazardous razor wire that cut both ways on a daily basis.
“Aw man.” Nash sat forward in his chair. “Tell me this wasn’t a drunk hook-up?”
“No. Of course not. We had a couple drinks, that’s all.”
His friend looked doubtful, and Kevin frowned. He had been slightly buzzed during the cab ride to her place, but that vanished the second her lips met his.
Sickening dread sank his stomach. Had she been drunk, and he hadn’t realized it?
He ran a quick replay of the night in his head, searching for clues.
Desire simmered in his veins as the combination of the sultry sway of her body and her intoxicating, vanilla scent threatened to seduce all reason from his mind. While they danced, herculean effort kept his hands at the small of her back instead of slipping down to grip her shapely ass so he could pull her tight against his arousal.
As the slow song came to an end, he managed to step back from temptation and suggest they call it a night before one of them did something both of them would regret.
Outside, he offered a hand to help her into the back of the cab they’d agreed to share, but then she didn’t pull away, even after he slid in beside her. Common sense and good intentions decided to walk home while he and Shanna took the faster ride to her place in the close confines of the back seat.
With her soft hand in his and her scent still tantalizing his senses, electrifying tingles spread up his arm and coalesced into an urgent throb in his groin. Sexual tension weighted the air with expectation, fueled by the heat of her thigh against his. One glance at her face and he was completely mesmerized by her languid brown gaze in the indirect light from the city lights outside the windows.
Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and he bit back a groan as he focused on her mouth. A memory flickered in the background, sparking a smile as he murmured, “Hell must’ve frozen over.”
“Must have.”
The husky laugh that accompanied her response told him she also recalled their heated exchange the previous summer about hell freezing over before he’d ever consider kissing her. Foreplay. Years of foreplay had led to this moment, when he lifted his gaze back to hers and the blatant invitation in her eyes made his heart slam against his ribs. She flattened her palm against his chest, inducing another thud that echoed in his ears.
Cupping the side of her face, he slid his hand back to thread his fingers into the glorious waves of silky, golden hair she’d shaken free on the dance floor. “This is crazy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she confirmed without hesitation.
“I still want to.”
She smiled and tilted her face up to his, her eyelids heavy with unconcealed desire.
“I need you to say you want this, too,” he urged.
“I want this, too.”
His heart hammered as he whispered, “You’re sure?”
Her nod had been all the go-ahead he’d needed without giving it another thought—until now. However, he honestly didn’t think she’d been drunk. Maybe buzzed like him, but certainly not drunk by the time they tumbled into her bed. And definitely not by the time she cried out his name as her second orgasm triggered his own climax deep inside her heat.
Kevin swallowed hard as he pushed the memories away.
“Have you two talked at all
since then?”
Nash’s question jolted him back to the conversation.
“I tried to bring it up once, but she shut me down. Said she doesn’t rehash mistakes she doesn’t intend to repeat.”
“Ouch.”
He shrugged off the renewed resentment the memory stirred. “Feeling’s mutual. Which is why this camping trip is going to be a disaster.”
Nash gave him a grimace of semi-apology, as if he wished there were something he could do about the upcoming week. “Sounds more like the perfect opportunity for you two to clear the air. Like adults.”
Not an apology then. More like, Shut up and man up.
Clearly, his friend had no more sympathy for him than his boss.
Chapter 3
Monday morning, Shanna pulled her rented SUV into the new meeting location Nash had texted to her last night. She spotted Kevin waiting on the side of the Park & Ride lot off Highway 41. He sat on a blue cooler on the grass, a black ball cap shading his face, white T-shirt showing off his tan biceps and forearms, and olive green cargo shorts covering his muscled thighs.
Her pulse skipped, then raced at the sight of him, an annoying response that had only gotten worse after their one-night-stand. Somehow, she had to get her stupid heart to sync up with her mind.
As she braked to a stop, she frowned at the pile of stuff at his feet—or more like, lack thereof. He should’ve had a tent, sleeping bag, their camp stove and other cooking supplies.
Maybe something had changed?
God, she hoped so. A whole week having to pretend like their night together didn’t haunt her night and day was going to be torture.
She put the car in park and stepped out into the August heat as he rose to his feet. Unfortunately, now she spotted a backpack and sleeping bag behind the cooler. Nothing had changed. Damn it.
“Where is the rest of your gear?” she asked.
He reached up to adjust his cap as he retorted, “Good morning to you, too.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Seriously. Where’s the gear?”
“I got all I need.”
Selfish jackass. Irritation sparked as she thought about everything she’d purchased—and then some. Thank God she’d ignored the list and bought her own tent so she wouldn’t have to share with him.
“What about what we need?”
“I figure you aren’t going to last a day out in the woods.” His hazel gaze swept down over her new red tank top, khaki shorts, socks, and hiking boots. “Maybe two tops, so we’re good.”
She gestured to his meager supplies. “With what you’ve got there, you’re the one who won’t last.”
He smirked before turning to sling his backpack onto one shoulder. “A hundred bucks says I can last longer than you.”
She wanted to tell him to go screw himself, but had a better idea instead. “You’re on.”
Surprise flickered in his expression as he faced her, his fingers wrapped around the strap on his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah. But I say we make this more interesting than a measly hundred bucks.”
“Name the amount.”
“I’m not talking about money.”
Wariness flickered in his gaze. “Then what?”
“Whoever cries uncle first quits.” Her chest tightened at the idea of not seeing him again, but she couldn’t go on like this anymore anyway, so what would it matter? And honestly, she might just be testing him, too—not that she really wanted to admit that.
He gave her a look like maybe the summer heat was messing with her head. “That’s literally what crying uncle means.”
“I mean quit NWR Investments. As in the loser leaves the company…for good.”
“Oh.” The clarification drew his eyebrows down in a frown. “That’s extreme. And not really fair to Nash.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Nash threatened to fire us both if we didn’t do this dumbass challenge of his, so who cares if it’s fair to him?”
His lips twisted as if he wasn’t sure he agreed with her, but couldn’t really argue, either.
When he didn’t respond, she arched an eyebrow. “Scared you’ll lose?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then if you’re so sure I won’t last, what do you have to lose? Look at it as your chance to be rid of me.”
Did he hate her enough to accept the wager and risk having to leave his job?
His gaze met hers for a brief second, then shifted away. Her pulse skipped at the indecision in his expression.
Finally, he dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Good point. All right then. Whoever quits has to quit NWR.”
Yes, he hated her that much.
Well, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.
Ignoring the tightening in her chest again, she stuck her hand out to shake on the deal. “It’s a bet.”
His gaze flicked down. Then he dipped his head to spit in his palm before reaching for her hand. Shanna grit her teeth to suppress her grimace. Great, she’d just given him license to be even more of a jackass than usual.
Exactly why she needed to get away from him.
But she wasn’t a quitter, and she sure as hell wasn’t leaving her job. She’d take whatever he dished out, and give it right back.
Before his fingers could grip hers, she jerked her hand away. His lips curved up in a triumphant smirk—until she spit in her own palm and fit it against his.
As she curled her fingers around his hand in a firm grip, she smiled. “I am going to kick your ass.”
He’d made a mistake.
A big mistake.
A great, big, huge, colossally foolish mistake.
Underestimating Shanna Rogers was akin to shooting oneself in the foot because you stupidly kept your finger on the trigger while holstering your gun. Only idiots did it, and they got exactly what they deserved.
Kevin pulled his few things from the back of Shanna’s SUV and carried them down to the water’s edge by the canoe that had been left for the rest of their journey. Beneath the shade of his cap, he squinted his eyes against the glint of mid-morning sunlight on the water. According to the directions from that meddling old codger, Butch, they were to paddle across the lake, through a narrow channel connecting to another larger lake, and locate their private campsite on the opposite shore of that lake.
He couldn’t remember the name of where they were, but it was more remote than he’d expected. They weren’t staying in an actual campground with other people as he’d assumed. The vehicle—his planned replacement ‘tent’—would not be within easy walking distance. Or even paddling distance.
Worse, Shanna had packed enough supplies for a friggin’ month. The woman had even brought half the things from his list, though they hadn’t been given copies of what the other was supposed to buy. She’d obviously done some research, while he’d simply banked on her being too prissy to handle more than a day in the great outdoors.
That’s what you get for underestimating a brilliant woman. Nash warned you.
His lips twisted with wry acknowledgment while he picked up his cooler to set it on one of the canoe seats so he could climb in. The boat rocked wildly beneath his feet, sending ripples out across the water as he made a frantic grab for the sides to steady his balance.
He thought he heard a muffled snort behind him, but didn’t risk letting go to look back. Once he had his equilibrium set, he carefully transferred the cooler to the back and then made his way back onto shore for the rest of his things.
Shanna carried her third armload from the vehicle and set it down. “You’re not even going to offer to help me?”
“Help you kick my ass?” He scoffed and swatted a mosquito that landed on the back of his neck. “Nope. Don’t think so.”
Her gaze narrowed. “So, every man and woman for themselves?”
“You set the stakes, not me.”
“Okay.” She lifted her hands and backed away. “You’re right. I got it.”
Fo
rcing his gaze away from her shapely ass when she turned back toward the SUV, he stepped into the canoe with his backpack and sleeping bag, having to steady himself against the rocking with one hand on the side again. Now that his things were loaded, he’d let her finish with her mountain of shit, and then she could push off. No way was he getting his feet wet.
Kevin started to swing his gear from his shoulder to the floor of the boat when an ear-piercing scream jammed his heart up into his throat. Alarm jerked him up and around. He caught a glimpse of Shanna, but before he could see what had happened, the violent rocking of the canoe flipped him over backward into the lake.
Water closed over his head, and he came up sputtering, scrambling for purchase on the mucky bottom. Thankfully, it was only about two feet deep, and he surged up, swiping water from his face as he searched for Shanna.
She stood halfway between the shore and the vehicle, no signs of fear or harm to her person. She had one arm crossed over her stomach, and her chin tucked down to her chest as her other hand covered her mouth—to smother her laughter.
Apprehension morphed into irritation as he stood there coughing water from his lungs, hair and clothes dripping, and his only pair of shoes buried in a half-inch of mucky sand on the lake bottom. The crazy-ass witch had screamed just to make him lose his balance.
He fisted his T-shirt and pulled the sopping wet material away from his skin. When he released it, the cotton suctioned back to his stomach. With the mid-morning heat, the cool water would have been refreshing—if his feet weren’t stuck in muck.
And he had sand in his underwear.
Up on shore, Shanna gave up even trying to hide her delight. Her laugh was infectious, and with that gleeful grin on her face, she went from beautiful to gorgeous. His anger faded into grudging amusement. Imagining what he must’ve looked like as he went ass over teakettle, he bit back his own wry smile while turning to look for his hat. His cooler floated off to the right, mocking him with each bob.
Well played, Princess. Well played.
“Don’t let the paddle float away,” she called out behind him.
Or his sleeping bag. His soaking wet sleeping bag.
Summer Wager Page 2