“Cool. Why don’t you go be ready on your own ATV,” he said, pointing to a black one he’d pulled from a line of them. “I picked a black one for you. Seemed to match your aesthetic.”
“I know your using sarcasm and trying to insult me, but black happens to be my favorite color.”
“Shocker. Scurry scurry little shifter. You’re getting your shifter germs on my ride.”
Ha. She lifted her chin higher into the air and narrowed her eyes at him. “You aren’t going to kick me out of the tour?”
“Maybe if you pay me a hundred dollars, like when you offered that to kick those nice people out.”
“Hey,” Birdie griped. “You were going to pay him to kick us out?”
“Absolutely. You’re both atrociously annoying.”
Lance snorted.
“I’m Cam,” Hot Tour Guide introduced himself, and dang it all, he was offering his hand for a shake.
“I don’t like touch.”
“I imagine you don’t like much of anything,” he gritted out, allowing his hand to fall to his side.
“You’re very rude.”
“Mmm, let’s do a recap. You stormed off that shuttle, ignored my wave, glared at me instead, offered me money to leave the rest of the tour behind, got pissed that I’m single, stomped on my nephews snowman, you’re hurling insults such as but not limited to, ‘atrociously annoying.’ That sound about right?”
She pursed her lips. Stupid human was smarter than she’d originally thought. “Well played.” She huffed a frozen breath anddismounted from his ATV, then threw her leg over the seat of the black ATV. This one was way cooler anyway.
He followed behind her and took his jacket off, settled it on her handlebars as he pulled up the suspenders of his ski bibs, and holy moly, now she could see his physique rippling out from under his tight gray thermals. His shoulders were huge, and his waist trim, and she spied with her little eye abs that were so defined, they were visible under the waffle knit fabric.
He was talking, but she couldn’t understand a single word he said. It was all bla bla bla, brakes on this side, bla bla, don’t run the ATV off a cliff, bla bla. Ab flex. Shoulder flex. Why was his neck so muscular? Adam’s apple on point. Beard was dark and perfectly trimmed. Dark eyes. Masculine, straight nose. Frown on his face. Wait. Frown on his face?
“Are you listening to anything I’ve said?” he asked.
“Of course I am. I did. I have.” She cleared her throat. He smelled like cologne.
“Oh yeah? Where are the brakes?”
She pursed her lips and looked on either side of the ATV, near her snow boots.
“Wrong. They are here,” he wrapped his hand around hers and pressed her fist closed around a handle on the handlebars. “Accelerator is here.” He showed her where to press her thumb onto a little paddle that revved her engine and jumped her forward by inches.
“I’ve got it.”
“Now, if you need to Change, just call to me up front and we can pull over and let you do your thing.”
Moira frowned. “You talk about that real easily. Are you some kind of shifter groupie or something.”
The deep chuckle in his throat dragged chills up her spine. He grabbed the handlebars over her hands and leaned forwardand flashed a glowing gold color through his eyes before he leaned away from her and went to zipping up his jacket.
“You’re a shifter,” she whispered.
“I heard that!” Birdie yelled, her voice echoing across the mountains. “Tour Guide guy, you’re a shifter? Me too! O M G, shifter party!”
Moira cast the little heathen a dirty look. “Why can’t I sense that you’re a shifter?”
“Maybe because you suck as a shifter. Or maybe I’m magic,” he said with a cocky smile as he pulled a beanie over his head.
“What are you?” she asked.
