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Summer Wager

Page 3

by Stacey Joy Netzel


  He tossed the sodden roll of material into the canoe, swiped up his hat, and—where’d his backpack go? There. Sunk in the shallows. He lifted it, and water poured out through the zipper that held in his extra clothes and toilet paper.

  Then he remembered his phone in the front zipper pocket.

  Son.Of.A.Bitch.

  Unfortunately, with the bet cemented by their combined spit-shake, he had no choice but to make the best of it.

  As he waded after the paddle, he thought about letting the damn thing go and saying it was hers. But that would mean he’d have to do all the work to get them across both lakes.

  She’d definitely won round one. Or maybe that was two, considering the wager she’d gotten him to agree to?

  Devious, brilliant minx.

  He was so screwed.

  Chapter 4

  A little after two p.m., Shanna pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and surveyed the shaded campsite as the canoe glided toward the shore. Though remote, it was clear someone used this place on a regular basis. Or regular enough to have set up an actual outhouse back in the woods—thank God.

  Kevin’s response to her obvious sabotage surprised her. He hadn’t yelled, or gotten mad, or anything. She even suspected he’d smiled as he turned away to gather up his things and chase down the paddle floating away to freedom. Then he’d helped her load her things and let her get in first before he pushed them off the shore since his feet were already wet. A chivalrous act that strummed her guilt as they silently paddled across the water under the blazing sun.

  Then she realized he was likely regrouping. Strategizing. Reality must have set in when he saw the extent of her supplies. He knew he would need some of her things when they got to camp, so might as well butter her up, right?

  Wrong.

  He was the one who said everyone for themselves. She’d chipped one of her newly manicured nails carrying all her stuff down to the canoe by herself. He wasn’t using anything.

  A few feet from shore, he hopped out, splashing through the shallow water to pull the canoe onto the beach. He then actually helped unload as she handed things to him, and after the last of it, he turned back to offer a hand to help her out.

  Shanna hesitated, glancing at the water, not putting it past him to shove her in the lake in retaliation.

  “Tempting,” he said with a twitch of his lips, “but no, I’m not looking for revenge. Promise.”

  His vow at the end eased her suspicion. One thing she knew and respected about him, he was a man of his word.

  She gripped his fingers to step onto the sandy shore. A jolt of awareness knocked her off guard and the heel of her hiking boot nicked the side of the canoe at the last second. She lurched forward with a gasp, but he caught her before she fell.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears as her indrawn breath filled her senses with Kevin doused in hot sunshine. The fresh air of the outdoors mixed with the scent of warm male was downright intoxicating. Her cursed heart wanted her to lean against his damp chest, with his strong arms holding her tight as she tipped her face up to his.

  When her gaze connected with his beneath the brim of his cap, she realized with a start that she’d done exactly that. His irises darkened before his lashes lowered and his attention focused on her mouth. His large hands skimmed up her arms to grip her shoulders, leaving tingles in their wake.

  Anticipation shortened her breath. She started to close her eyes, but all of a sudden, he set her back in an abrupt move.

  “You good?”

  She blinked. “Yeah.” Heat seared her face, and she cleared her throat to get out more than a throaty whisper. “Thanks.”

  “Yep.” His voice was rough as he spun away while reaching down to swipe up his backpack. “I have to get my stuff dried out. Any chance you brought rice with you?”

  “Rice?”

  “My phone drowned.”

  “Oh.” That gave her another twinge of guilt. “Nope, sorry, no rice.”

  He huffed out a sigh and walked away.

  She set aside her confused disappointment from the almost-kiss and spent the next hour organizing her things and getting her tent ready to erect. All the while, she snuck glances in his direction as he hung his sleeping bag, clothes, and anything else that needed drying on a nearby clothesline.

  He set his phone out on a log near the fire pit, and next to it were three rolls of dripping toilet paper. A smirk twitched at her lips, but when she used the outhouse, she offered up an unspoken apology by leaving a roll from her stash in the ramshackle building.

  When she returned to the campsite, she saw he’d taken off his shirt. And his shorts. Her breath caught.

  Holy moly.

  He stood there like a sculpted Roman god, using a knife to sharpen the end of a long stick while wearing nothing but a pair of dark boxer briefs that left little to the imagination. Problem was, she’d seen what was underneath, so her imagination didn’t have to work too hard to conjure a mouthwatering image. Not good after her moment of weakness by the shore.

  Stop staring.

  She lowered her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose.

  Right, because it’s fine if he can’t tell you’re drooling over his body.

  Ignoring the sarcasm in her head, she summoned some annoyance. “Seriously?”

  He glanced up as he slapped at a bug on his arm. “What?”

  Shanna jammed one hand on her hip, and pointed to him with the other, gesturing up and down. Behind her glasses, her gaze hovered at his midsection, vacillating between his defined abs and the bulge filling out the front of his snug briefs.

  “Relax. I’m just letting my clothes dry.”

  “They can dry just as well while you’re wearing them.” She knew firsthand his shirt had barely been damp when he’d saved her from falling before.

  “Not when it’s this hot out.” He turned and bent to set one stick aside and reached for another.

  She managed to force her gaze away from the carved excellence of his hard ass. “I don’t care. You need to put clothes on.”

  “Why is it such a big deal?” A cocky grin curved his lips when he straightened. “Are you afraid you can’t control yourself?”

  Maybe. “Hardly.”

  She stalked over to swipe up the instructions for her tent.

  “If you want to level the playing field, I don’t have any problem with you stripping down to your underwear,” he offered. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before.”

  Heat flashed, fueled by anger and desire—the second of which angered her even more. She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to bring up that night. Worse, that he was teasing about it.

  “Trust me,” she stated while jamming pole pieces together. “That was the last time you’re ever seeing it all.”

  “Damn. And here I was getting all excited at the thought.”

  What? He was the one who’d practically run out of her apartment the morning after. And he’d pretty much rejected her down at the canoe.

  Thank God.

  She turned to glare at him, only to notice the bulge in the front of his briefs was noticeably bigger. He really was excited. “You’re such a pig.”

  And yet, the thought he did still want her made her inner core clench with arousal. Geez Louise, what the hell is wrong with me? The past month had been nothing but heartache. Why would she go back for more?

  “You’re the one looking,” he pointed out.

  She sputtered in exasperation and spun back to the tent.

  “Makes me wonder if you didn’t plan the whole thing just to get me out of my clothes.”

  “Dream on, jackass.”

  Silence fell, until she realized she’d screwed up the pieces and had to start over. As she pulled the sections apart with a low growl of frustration, Kevin’s chuckle sounded behind her.

  “I remember you being more adept at handling a pole.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m just sayin’.”


  “You’re acting like a twelve year old boy. It’s very unprofessional.”

  “And screaming to scare the shit out of me is the appropriate adult behavior?”

  She concentrated on the tent, unable to argue against his point.

  When she took the incorrect pieces apart for a second time, he asked, “Do you need help with that?”

  “No.”

  “If we work together, it’d go up a lot faster.”

  Because you’re such an expert at erecting poles?

  She bit her tongue to keep from speaking the pun out loud after seconds earlier accusing him of being unprofessional. And then, as she fought a grin, she had to go and picture her hand wrapped around him, his hand over hers, and the two of them stroking his hard length together.

  Sheesh. Now she was hotter in the shade than when they’d been in the sun. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard against the flood of desire that dampened her panties and quickened her pulse.

  “You’re only offering so you can get in my tent,” she accused as she finally got the first pole together and attached to the nylon tabs correctly. “You should’ve brought your own.”

  “I want to get into more than your tent, Shanna.”

  Her pulse skipped. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you ran out of my apartment like the building was on fire.”

  Nooo! Just shut up and let it go. Ignore him.

  “I had to get out of there before I got frostbite.”

  She spun around to face him, all the hurt from that morning rushing to the surface. “What did you expect? First thing you said when you work up was, ‘Fuck. What the hell was I thinking?’”

  Chapter 5

  Kevin cringed at Shanna’s words. He’d completely forgotten about his muttered curse that morning. Truth was, when he’d voiced the self-condemnation, he’d been rolling out of the bed after watching her sleep for far too long as dawn lightened the room. He’d believed she was still sleeping as he gathered his briefs and pants and went to the bathroom.

  Problem right now was, he couldn’t tell her he’d been talking about the fact he’d gone and fallen for her in one crazy night. Well, he could, but only if he wanted to get his heart stomped to a bloody pulp. Or bloodier pulp?

  Then again, maybe he wasn’t in too much danger if she would’ve let him kiss her earlier. Maybe he should’ve seen where that went instead of backing off out of self-preservation. If they got along half as well as they had that night before they’d burned up the sheets, it would make the week ten times more enjoyable. Add in sex, and yeah, he’d totally be on board with spending a week with that Shanna Rogers. Fun Shanna.

  Or a lifetime?

  Well, it all sounded great in theory, or Fantasy Land, but right now, she wasn’t even close to that woman, and with his job now on the line, it was a risk he couldn’t take. He needed to get her to cry uncle.

  And then she’ll have to quit.

  Again, the thought of that made him frown. He didn’t necessarily want her gone, but seeing her and wanting her got harder and harder each day, so it probably would be best if one of them left.

  “Clearly, what was I thinking? is still the question,” he quipped as he used his foot to brush at a mosquito on his calf. “Great sex is not worth what comes after, so I’ll do my best to be more professional.”

  Her jaw clenched before she turned back to the tent. Kevin swiped up his mostly dry shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he put on his damp shorts, cursing his persistent hard-on as he buttoned and zippered.

  A little later, Shanna was still struggling with the tent, and he moseyed over to watch. She pretended to ignore him, her frustration evident in every sharp, jerky movement she made. He noticed her sideways glances every so often, but she refused to accept his earlier offer of assistance. Just like at work, but now out in the woods. She always figured it out, and even if he didn’t understand her obstinate independence, he had to admire her tenacity—among other things.

  He tilted his head to get a better view of her toned backside.

  After a moment, he reluctantly shifted his gaze. Part of him wanted to let her deal with the tent on her own. Let her figure it out, since he wouldn’t be sleeping in it. Maybe she’d quit sooner if she had to sleep out under the stars with the bugs. But he’d spotted the end of a tent pole section sticking out from the side of a base tarp she’d spread out beneath the tent.

  He flipped over the corner and retrieved the metal piece. Shanna’s gaze narrowed in suspicion as he handed it over.

  “Don’t look at me like that. You kicked it under before, when you got all huffy about the morning after.”

  She snatched the pole and turned back to her project. A moment later, he heard her grudging, “Thanks,” as she fit the missing piece in place.

  “You need anything else, just let me know.”

  Fading sunlight kissed the tree line across the lake when she finally had the tent secured, a little after seven p.m. Kevin had passed the time by collecting firewood, and then splitting the larger pieces with an ax he’d found hanging on the inside wall of the outhouse.

  Having sharpened roasting sticks for his hot dogs earlier, his next step was to start a fire. Hopefully, the smoke would chase away the mosquitoes that had been attempting to eat him alive the past couple of hours. Judging by Shanna’s complete lack of slapping, bug spray had been on her list, not his.

  “Campfire’s ready to go,” he said. “You got any matches?”

  She glanced over from tossing her sleeping bag, mat, and pillow into the tent. “You didn’t bring matches?”

  “I did, but…”

  Her gaze flicked toward his things. “Should’ve brought waterproof ones.”

  “I’ll know better for next time,” he said wryly.

  She shook her head with a sigh, unzipped a pocket on her backpack, and lobbed a small yellow plastic container to him. He caught it one handed, and had the fire going in a few minutes.

  “Want a hot dog?”

  “What happened to everyone for themselves?”

  A smart man would stick to that, wouldn’t he? “I don’t mind sharing.”

  “You should. I saw what you have in your cooler. You’re going to need to conserve your resources.”

  He drew in a breath through his nose and let it back out. So much for trying to be nice. “Fine. Make your own dinner.”

  His hot dog was almost done when she sat down on a log by the fire with a deli sandwich and a beer from her cooler. His mouth watered as he eyed the dark bottle with beads of condensation rolling down the side. Why the hell hadn’t he thought to bring beer?

  Halfway through their silent dinner, he said, “We should’ve called Nash’s bluff. We still could, if we both quit and go home together.”

  She looked up from her food with a frown. “You’re just trying to get me to agree so you win the bet.”

  “No, I’m not.” He wouldn’t mind her agreeing so he could get away from the damn bugs.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t quit.”

  Oh, he was well versed with that trait of hers. Always commendable—unless it inconvenienced him. “Come on. You don’t honestly think he’d fire either of us, do you?”

  “I’m not willing to chance it after all the work I’ve put in to get to where I’m at. Unlike my mother, I’ve never been fired in my life.”

  Interest sparked at the completely unexpected peek into her personal life. By the tightening of her jaw, she hadn’t meant to reveal even that little glimpse.

  “Your mother go through a lot of jobs, did she?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She stood abruptly and turned for her tent. “I’m going to sleep.”

  Wow. She’d clammed up so fast, if the tent flap were a door, he didn’t doubt she would’ve slammed it behind her. Her forgotten bottle beckoned from the ground next to the log she’d been sitting on, and he checked to find it still half-full.

  He stared at the fire and took measured pulls off the b
eer as he mulled over her response. The resentment in her voice, along with her use of mother, not mom, indicated they did not get along. He’d never wondered about her family life before, but the thought she may not have a happy one made him want to make her happy.

  Whoa. Hold up there.

  His fingers tightened on the bottle, and he raised it to his lips to drain the rest of the beer. He was more like his dad than he’d thought. At least he could recognize the flaw, though. Before he became a doormat for a woman who was never satisfied no matter what his father did. His mother had raised him to stand up for himself, while his father had kowtowed to every frivolous whim his step-mother demanded.

  Shanna was a poster child for expecting things to be done her way. He’d rather die alone than set himself up for that hell.

  The fire burned down to bright, glowing coals, and the bugs finally drove him inside his damp sleeping bag. Thanks to the itchy mosquito bites, persistent thoughts of Shanna, and a damned owl hooting it up in the tree above his head, it was a while before he managed to fall asleep.

  He woke to another dousing of water—only this time from the sky.

  Chapter 6

  Shanna grinned as Kevin’s colorful cursing sounded over the rain drumming on the tent, until a loud rumble of thunder drowned out his pissed-off voice. When a hair-raising crackle of lightning lit up all around her tent, she held her breath and waited for him to rip up the zipper and dash inside. His large presence shrunk any space he occupied, so her roomy space would turn into a tiny closet.

  Seconds turned into minutes.

  Hmm. He was more determined with this wager than she’d expected.

  Her phone read one-thirteen a.m., but she hadn’t had cell service since halfway across the second lake, so there was no way to check the radar to see how long the downpour might last. Much as she wished to leave him out there in the storm their first night, she wasn’t that desperate to win their bet. Considering his obvious lack of wilderness experience and pitiful preparedness, she didn’t need to be.

 

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