“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “It’s ‘Bye Bye Bye.’”
He was quiet for long moments, and she thought she might actually be in the clear. Then he said, “So is it safe to assume you still have that poster of Justin Timberlake hanging up in your room?”
She shook her head, pressing her lips together to keep her smile at bay. “Get singin’, soldier boy.”
A bark of laughter shot out from him, and she found herself grinning right along with him. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this. Not just him, butthem. They had an undeniable connection—a chemistry that had nothing to do with sex, although that simmered under the surface—and she’d somehow forgotten it in the time he’d been gone. Forgotten that it could really be this easy with someone.
“How about I serenade you with it tonight during our supper over a roaring fire?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Sounds like someone forgot I have a steel trap for a memory—you’re not gettin’ outta this one.”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Hudson continued peppering her with question after insignificant question for the next half hour, until she could barely catch her breath because she’d been talking so much. That, and the altitude up here was nothing to sneeze at.
“Okay, how about favorite team?”
She scoffed. “Could you be—” she sucked in a huge lungful of air before slowly blowing it out “—more specific?” Gripping a low-hanging tree branch, she used it to help propel her up the incline. “Which sport? And are you talkin’ college, pro, or international?”
He stared at her, amusement plain on his face. “All of them, obviously.”
She stopped in her tracks, halting him with a hand to his chest. Trying to ignore how warm and solid he was beneath her fingers. His heart thrummed a smooth, steady beat against her palm. Meanwhile, hers was off like a hummingbird, and touching him wasn’t helping matters.
“Hey, Captain America, not all of us are ridiculously in-shape, hotshot soldiers.” She stepped back, dropping her hand and grabbing her water bottle from her pack, needing something to keep her hands busy lest she start roaming them all over Hudson’s body. “You mind savin’ the chitchat till we reach the next summit? That way, I won’t embarrass myself by hurling up a lung while tryin’ to answer your questions.”
His mouth ticked up on the side as he took a step toward her. And then another, and another. He didn’t stop until he stood directly in front of her. The difference between the chill that had settled in since they’d started the hike and the heat pouring from his body was enough to send a shiver down her spine. One he definitely noticed.
He reached up, his fingers hooking under her chin as he swiped his thumb below her bottom lip, the delicate touch sending shock waves of heat through her body.
“What was that for?” she breathed, her eyes caught in the snare of his gaze.
“Water droplet.” He kept up the brain-numbing brush of his thumb against her lips. “Thought it might be too forward of me to lick it off like I wanted to.”
She opened her mouth to say something witty, but nothing came out. He’d officially made her brain-dead. See? This was what she’d been worried about. That she’d come out here with him, get figuratively lost in the woods, and forget all reason. Forget why she needed to keep her distance. Why kissing him was a bad idea, because right now, she wanted it desperately.
When she didn’t respond, didn’t step back or rebuke him, he lowered his head, his eyes connected with hers, until he pressed his mouth to hers. She’d played this over a dozen times in her mind—she knew what she was supposed to do. She wassupposedto press her mouth together and step back, tell him that was a bad idea.
Instead, what she did was part her lips, anticipating that next brush of his tongue against hers. She’d just decided to throw caution to the wind, wrap her arms around him, and get lost in the kiss, when a high-pitched bark startled them apart.
“What—” Hudson snapped his head toward the sound, tugging her into his side, as if he was about to pull her right around behind him.
In her dazed state, it took her a moment to register what had startled them apart. She rolled her eyes and batted his hand away, glancing down at the tiny dog that stood a few feet away, wet and raggedy but obviously happy to see them if the unrelenting wag of its tail was any indication. “It weighs all of fifteen pounds, Hud. I think I’ll be okay.”
Still trying to catch her breath—whether from the climb or the kiss, she had no idea—she glanced around in search of the dog’s owner. So far, they hadn’t passed anyone on their hike, though that wasn’t a surprise. It was late in the year, the weather unpredictable, and not many people had the skills or the equipment to deal with fluctuations like that.
“Size doesn’t matter much if it has rabies. Just stay behind me, all right?” He squatted down, making sure to keep himself between her and the animal, not even giving her the opportunity to listen to his order—not that she would. His protectiveness was ridiculous…and yet it still managed to make her heart flutter.
“I don’t see its owner,” Mac said. “I wonder if it got lost?”
He leaned over, tipping his head to the side as he studied the dog. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have a collar or anything, and it looks like it’s been out here for—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the dog ran toward them, taking a flying leap straight into Hudson’s lap.
Mac breathed out a laugh and squatted down next to them. “Aww, I think you’re its favorite.” She held out her hand for the dog to sniff, and when she got the green light, she scratched behind its ears. “Pretty sure you’re its owner now.”
Hudson laughed. “She’s confused.”
“Or in love,” Mac said dryly as the dog snuggled further into Hudson’s lap, nudging its head under his hand and not allowing him to let up on his petting. “And ‘she,’ huh?”
