“If the head gets buried…”
I wince. “Please don’t say head while I’m staring at your nether regions.”
“No need to stare. Give them a quick look and we won’t ever speak of this again.”
“A vow of silence?”
He nods, somber, and reluctantly exposes himself.
I lower myself to my knees and shine the light at his groin. Great Mississippi River!
I snap to my feet, unable to speak.
“See anything?” he asks as he hikes up his shorts. His anxious tone brings me back to earth.
Holy Gandalf’s walking stick, yes, I most certainly do.
“No ticks,” I squeak.
“I should check you now, right?” he asks. “Unless you have a natural immunity to tick bites.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Then what’s the issue? You checked me. Let me return the favor.”
Even in the pitch dark, I don’t miss the pleased quirk of his mouth. Return the favor, indeed.
I can’t afford Lyme disease. My health insurance isn’t good enough. And yet the prospect of Charlie poking around the hidden parts of my body while we’re alone in the woods... It has sexy times written all over it.
Or slasher movie. Maybe both.
“Okay.” I drag out the word, still reluctant.
“Lift up your shirt,” he says. “I promise to be quick.”
“Just what a girl likes to hear,” I joke.
“Trust me, Cricket. If this were another sort of naked party, I’d take my time.”
His words seem to graze my bare skin, and I strain against a shudder.
I close my eyes and do as I’m told, fully aware that this exceptionally hot man is currently scrutinizing every inch of my back. I swallow a whimper. “You should check under the bra line. They like to squeeze underneath things.”
I expect him to shift the underwire. Instead, he unhooks it, and a small gasp escapes me.
He hears my surprised reaction. “Sorry, is that not what you meant?”
“It’s fine.” I feel under my boobs for any tiny bumps.
“Do you want me to aim the light at your … underboob?”
“No,” I say, “but also yes. Think of it as a breast exam, like you’re a professional looking for suspicious lumps.”
I expect him to crack a joke about playing doctor, but he seems to take his task very seriously, which I appreciate.
His thumb skims my bare breast, and my nipple hardens at the attention. “Nothing here,” he says in a voice that sounds huskier than normal.
“That’s a relief.” I drop my shirt, mortified by the moment of vulnerability. I’m grateful for the blanket of darkness between us.
