揢h, bookworm, we have a problem.?His mouth twisted and he frowned at the tent on the ground.
揥hat??
He lifted it to show me.
Where the zipper should have connected to the rest of the tent, there was a big hole. The zipper laid on the ground still.
揑t抯 ripped??
揕ooks like it.?His voice sounded strange. Kind of tight and he wouldn抰 look at me. He just stared at the zipper.
揑 should have known. My dad has so much stuff in the garage that he needs to get rid of.?Anything to do with my mom.
Wyatt crouched to roll the tent back up. 揧ou can sleep in my tent.?
I watched his hands as he rolled the fabric. They were tanned from being outside, strong with long fingers. Clean nails. I shivered. Sleeping in Wyatt抯 tent. A throb hit me between my legs and I clenched before sending him a tentative glance.
揑抣l sleep in the truck.?He stood up with the tent and walked past me, back to the truck, and I watched him walk away.
Disappointment twinged in my stomach but I waved it away. That wasn抰 what this camping trip was about. It was about celebrating Wyatt抯 sponsorship. It was about being out in nature because we lived in one of the most beautiful places in the world. It wasn抰 about me being horny every time I thought about Wyatt or caught a whiff of him or imagined his hands leaving marks on my ass.
I know, baby, I know. I heard his words again in my head and I shivered.
Wyatt strode through the trees, so tall and confident in the way he moved. He held a new bundle in his hands, something blue and woven.
揥hat抯 that??
揟his,?he said, shaking the fabric out, 搃s where you抮e going to spend the afternoon.?
It was a hammock. After we selected two sturdy trees with a view of the water, Wyatt and I strung it up and he helped me climb in.
揕ean forward for me,?he said in a low voice, pulling me forward gently in the hammock with a little smile before placing a pillow behind my head. He dropped a blanket over me and tucked it into my sides. 揅omfy??
I nodded with wide eyes and a big smile, and he laughed and walked away. I sunk into the pillow and let myself sway. I could have stayed here forever. The blanket was warm and heavy. Something about Wyatt bringing this for me, tucking me into the hammock and wanting me to lay here and read, it sent warmth through my chest.
Him taking care of me like I was something to be cherished made me never want to leave this campsite. Did he do this for other girls he hung out with? My instincts told me no.
The idea of Wyatt leaving after Pacific Rim made my heart hurt. Floating in the cove wouldn抰 be the same without him beside me.
I rubbed my chest and pushed the thoughts from my head.
While I read, Wyatt puttered around the campsite, setting up his own tent and making himself a coffee, asking me if I wanted one. At one point I glanced over and he was sitting back in a camp chair, feet up on the cooler, reading one of the books I had brought with a lazy grin on his face.
Like he was enjoying himself.
I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes, my book was on the camp chair.
A thwack! Noise caught my attention. I sat up and searched for the source of the noise.
A shirtless Wyatt lifted an axe over his shoulder and brought it down over a piece of wood, splitting it into pieces. His abs rippled as he moved, his obliques jumped and his pecs flexed. His arms were defined and strong and his shoulders broad. I saw him shirtless nearly every day, but seeing him chopping wood like this? So masculine, primal, sweaty, and so freaking gorgeous?
I was lost.
I got pulled under from how freaking gorgeous he was.
And I was very, very wet.
揂re you serious??I whispered under my breath.
I watched Wyatt for some time, raising the axe over his head and bringing it down to split piece after piece. At one point, he glanced over and saw me spectating before flashing me a panty-melting grin.
He knew how hot he was.
Maybe this was payback for teasing him the other morning.
I snapped a quick video of him chopping wood for social media. His fanbase was going to lose their minds.
Late afternoon rolled around and I showed Wyatt my fire-building skills. I crumpled up the newspaper, laid the sticks of kindling on top, and watched the flames ignite before stacking progressively larger pieces of wood on top. Within minutes, we had a crackling fire in front of us.
揘ice work, bookworm.?His voice was a low rumble and he flashed another one of those grins at me.
I melted.
揟o your sponsorship,?I said, raising my camping mug of red wine. The fire cracked and sent a flurry of sparks near my foot. Wyatt reached out and pulled my camp chair a couple inches closer to his.
Wyatt抯 mouth hitched at the side. 揑 don抰 have it in the bag yet.?