Please don’t let me be the only one.
Pausing my application, I glance over my shoulder at him while praying he can’t read my mind. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Can I help you?” I tease.
“Nah. Just enjoying the view. You look beautiful this morning.”
“You don’t look too shabby yourself.” The guy still lacks a shirt, but I’m definitely not complaining. And with gray sweat pants hanging low on his hips? Pretty sure I could die right here a happy girl.
“Seems like you’re enjoying the view too,” he notes with a devilish smirk. “You brought your camera, right?”
I scoff. “Sweet, naive Ben. Do you know me at all?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“And you’d be correct. But are we talking about using my camera for today's activities, or are you offering to model for me right here and right now? Because I’m pretty sure I could sell photos of you without your shirt on and make a million bucks.”
“A million bucks? Would we be splitting this fifty-fifty or…?”
“Seventy-thirty, obviously. I mean, I’m the one doing all the legwork. You just get to sit there and look pretty.”
Chuckling, he moves behind me and wraps his strong arms around my chest, pulling me against him until my back is pressed to his front. The mirror frames us perfectly and fans the flames licking at my skin.
Is it hot in here?
His lips brush against my cheek as I stare at the handsome man behind me. He closes his eyes and smiles.
“I think you’re the pretty one, but deal. Seventy-thirty it is. On one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You asked if I know you at all, and I think that I know you quite well.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, which is why I planned the entire day to cater to you.”
My eyes narrow in suspicion. “Is that right?”
“Damn straight.”
“Is this a trick?”
He laughs. “No trick. Just a chance to prove that I see the real you. So I’m going to ask you this one more time. Did you bring your camera?”
“And I’m going to answer with the same six words. Do you know me at all?”
Pressing his lips against my cheek a second time, he smiles against me. “Damn straight. Now finish getting ready. We got shit to do.”
He smacks my butt for good measure then drops his gray sweatpants to the floor to give me a mouthwatering view before hopping in the shower. I freeze while carving the image into my memory like Moses chiseled the Ten Commandments into rock. Because a naked Ben deserves to be worshipped.
“I said, hurry up,” he bosses me through the shower curtain. I can hear the smile in his voice. He acts like he didn’t just give me an up-close and personal shot of his package before ripping it away like a heartless bastard.
“Who says I’m not hurrying?” I challenge.
“You haven’t moved a muscle since I just gave you a little sneak peek of my junk.”
I snort. “Cocky much?”
“You tell me. Did I look very cock-y to you?”
Rolling my eyes, I try to contain my grin, but it’s no use. “I’m going to go get dressed.”
“You sure you don’t want to watch me rub soap all over my body? Give you a longer show?” he calls out as I walk out of the bathroom. By some miracle, I maintain a small semblance of self-control and keep moving forward even though a little voice inside of me is begging me to turn around and finally give in to the sexual tension we’ve both been drowning in.
And if I weren’t a coward, I would.
“So, did I win, or did I win?” Ben asks as we sit on the top of a mountain peak.
Snapping another picture of the bright red and gold leaves surrounding us, I answer, “You definitely won. Where did you even come up with this idea?”
“Well, call it a hunch, but I had a feeling you were into hiking. You’re pregnant, though, which means you shouldn’t be doing any activities that will stress your body out. And even an overly bumpy ATV ride with the change in elevation can cause issues, so I figured the gondola sky ride was a good bet.”
“You kind of nailed it,” I admit as I sneak another picture of Ben. He’s sitting on the ground, resting his elbow on his bent knee as he takes in the gorgeous ambiance surrounding us. The light breeze. The orange and yellow leaves with pops of red and green. The expanse below us. All of it is so picturesque, I’m positive I won’t even need to use Photoshop to frame these images. They’re perfect just the way they are.
He sighs in contentment before rummaging through his worn, black backpack. After pulling out a water bottle, he tosses me an unopened bottle of cranberry juice.
My amusement rivals my confusion as I lift the cranberry juice and inspect it. “I know I mentioned I like cranberry juice, but how did you––”
“Your Zion National Park pictures.”
I cock my head to the side. “What?”
“There were a few pictures in the slideshow of you drinking cranberry juice, which by the way, is a very unconventional drink on a hike. Just sayin’. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the right brand in the vending machine at the hotel, but I was kind of hoping you’d cut me a little slack this time.”
Still shocked by his thoughtfulness, I lower my camera and state the obvious. “You brought me cranberry juice.”
He shrugs. “I brought you cranberry juice.”
“On a hike.”
“Yeah. On a frickin’ hike.”
“Even though it’s weird,” I reiterate.
“Damn right, it’s weird.” He laughs, shaking me from my surprise. “But yeah. I did.”
Licking my lips, I lean into him and press a soft kiss to his arrogant grin even though I know it won’t do my gratitude any justice.
He tastes like sunshine and warmth and…home.
“Does that mean I did good?” he teases when I pull away.
“I already told you that you kinda nailed it.”
“Yeah, but that was before the cranberry juice, which was kinda the cherry on top. So….” He winks. “How’d I do?”
A lump the size of a ping-pong ball gets caught in my throat, but I shove it down and soak up the moment the same way I’ve been soaking up the last of the autumn sunshine.
“You nailed it, Ben,” I whisper. My heart tightens in my chest. It’s a good pain, though. A scary one. But as long as my heart doesn’t end up breaking by the end of this, I’ll gladly live with the sharp reminder because I’ve never cared about someone the way I’m starting to care about the man in front of me. And it’s moments like this when I wonder if he might care about me in the same way. At the same level.
Because this? What I feel for him? It could very well consume me.
And I’d let it. As long as I knew I wasn’t alone.
“Damn right, I nailed it,” he jokes with that same cocky smirk before reaching for my heavy, black camera in my hands. “Now, tell me how I use this thing. I need to snap a few of you up here.”
“Maybe next time,” I hedge.
“No deal, Marce. I want to remember today. You. Me. Up here. Please?”