I’m glad to have a break from his unnerving gaze and wondering what he was writing in his small notebook.
“What’s Thiago’s guess?” I ask as I balance the milk Mason hands me on top of the other ingredients in my arm.
He chuckles and shuts the ice chest, moving to a square metal can to grab dessert. “Frat Boy and Ariel.” Brody and the redheaded girl, Morgan, I’m guessing.Poor girl. “Harvard and Cinderella.” Wait, maybeBrody is Harvard? “Trust Fund goes with Jasmine, and Gym Bro is paired up with Tiana.” Honestly, any of those nicknames could fit Brody.
“Do you always compare the female guests to princesses?” I ask in curiosity.
Mason shrugs as he grabs boxes of pudding. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s one of the only things he and I have in common.”
“A love of animated characters,” I say wistfully. “That’s adorable.”
“At least I’m not the one who was drooling over the movie star an hour ago.”
My jaw drops. “Oh, you don’t want to go there unless you want to wake up to a tent full of spiders on Thursday morning. I wasnotdrooling.”
Was I admiring Derek’s physique while he helped Thiago carry the insanely heavy kitchen box up the beach when we first got to camp? Sure. The man is literally paid for the way he looks. And yeah, okay, he’s a good actor too. One of the best out there right now. But what matters is I wasn’t drooling. Just appreciating what was hinted at beneath his t-shirt.
The guys in the WanderLove gang are plenty masculine, but Derek is aman.
“Mm hmm.” Giving me some impressive side-eye, Mason grabs the last of the food and walks up the boat, hopping onto the shore next to me. “You’re basically my boss, so I’m going to leave it alone.”
“Smart move, Mase.”
“But I’m still thinking you’ve got a little crush on Derek Riley!” With a cackle, he dodges the fist I try to throw at him and scurries up the beach to where we’ve set up the kitchen.
Unfortunately for me, punching someone while holding an armful of food is a logistical nightmare, so I lose half my load into the sand. I sigh, praising the fact that everything tonight is wrapped in plastic, but when I reach for the peppers, a large hand beats me to them.
A verymanlyhand.
“A crush, huh?” Derek says, laughter in the words.
Right now, I would rather talk to one of the WanderLove guys than acknowledge Derek. I would even take Brody, who is stuck sharing a tent with Emmett instead of me and looks none too happy about it.
Grabbing the tortillas before Derek can reach for them, I tuck the bags against my body and slowly lift my gaze to meet his. “Did you miss the part where I said he’s dead wrong about that?”
“Technically you didn’t say that.” He narrows his eyes, lips lifting in a smirk. “The only thing you denied was drooling.”
“I thought my fist was pretty convincing.” I raise my hand to show him, though I’m not sure what I’m trying to prove. Or why I think it’s a good idea to be cavalier about punching my coworkers. Dropping my hand to my side, I shrug and look anywhere but at the man in front of me. “For the record, I do not regularly punch Mason. Or anyone. I missed on purpose.”
“Uh huh.”
Gah, I need to get a handle on this conversation. “Do you need help with your tent or something? Why are you over here?”
Derek looks down the beach, where he and Hunter took their stuff when we set the guests loose to pick their campsites, and I’m shocked to see his tent upright, the rain fly rustling in the breeze. It’s one of only four completed guest tents, while four are still in progress.
“You look surprised,” Derek says when he turns back to me.
“I am,” I admit. “You don’t strike me as the camping type, and I highly doubt Hunter did that.” Not when the bodyguard is currently hunched on a camp chair, his feet propped up on a rock and his nose wrinkled as he looks at all the nature around him.
Derek chuckles. “Yeah, he’s not really outdoorsy, and he’s worried the desert air is going to murder his pores. I think this week will be good for him. Give him some perspective.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I would have expected him to say that about you, not the other way around.”
“I’ve been camping before.” There’s a harder edge to his voice now, even if his expression remains carefree. “Not all stereotypes are true.”
“But they’re usually still based in fact,” I mutter and hold out my hand to take the peppers. “I should help Mason get started with dinner.”
Derek, however, shifts back, holding the peppers out of my reach. “I was wondering if you’d let me take your place.”
