Sienna took the opportunity to poke me again.
“So,” she murmured, stepping close enough that her shoulder brushed mine, “what’s your plan if she tries again?”
“Shut it down politely.”
“Politely,” Sienna repeated, dragging out the syllables. “Mmm. Yeah. That sounds like you.”
“It is me.”
“It is,” she agreed. “You’re very… polite.”
“What’s wrong with polite?”
“Nothing,” she said, lips curving. “It’s just that you look like a man who has… impolite potential.”
My brain short-circuited for a second.
“That’s not a thing,” I finally said.
“It absolutely is.”
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
She tilted her head. “Does it embarrass you?”
“No.”
“Does it fluster you?”
“No.”
“Does it—”
“Sienna.”
She grinned like she’d won the lottery. “Yes?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Oh,” she said softly, leaning in so her breath warmed the side of my throat, “I’m doing a lot more than teasing.”
She stepped away, calling bright instructions to the group as if she hadn’t just set off a controlled emotional detonation inside my chest.
I stood there for a moment, steadying my breath.
But every time she smiled at me like that, every time she nudged my shoulder or brushed past me on the trail or delivered some shameless, brilliant line, it became harder to remember the distinction between professionalism and the urge to kiss her senseless.
We resumed the hike. The group laughed and chatted behind us. The trail dipped into a narrow path woven between birch trees. Patches of sunlight danced through the leaves in the wind.
And then Jenna drifted up beside me again.
“Carson,” she said lightly, “I was thinking later maybe you and I could—”
“Jenna,” I said gently, “I’m your guide. Which means my focus today is keeping you safe and making sure your group has a great experience. Anything beyond that… isn’t something I entertain on the job.”
Her lips pressed together, disappointment flickering across her face. But she nodded.
“Oh. Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
