Gagging on embarrassment, I turn around. “Yeah?”
Why? Because he’s too sexy in that sexless uniform. And who smiles like that? It should be a felony to flex that hot and be off-limits.
“Where are some good trails around here to walk Mutt?” he asks. “He’s been inside all day.”
I could tell him, but with the blooming canopy, he may miss it, and I’m a glutton for punishment. “Hang on. Just give me a second to change, and I’ll show you.”
In three minutes, I’m out of my work clothes and in my Alena uniform. Ponytail. Sports bra. Flannel half buttoned. Hiking shorts. Thick socks and boots on my feet.
I check the bathroom mirror, groaning at the smudge I’ve apparently had on my nose all day. I swear dirt jumps on me.
When I meet Loch outside, he admires my bare legs, not hiding his heated gaze. It turns my thighs into warm jelly.
He swallows. “Ready?”
Mutt jumps on me, licking my face. I laugh. “He sure is.”
Warmly, Loch grins. “He likes you.”
He’s changed too. Camo pants. Tight white T-shirt. No ball cap. I can finally see his aqua eyes.
I’d say they’re sparkling for me, but that’s too many DrewBarrymore romcoms on my part. Still, my heart is pounding hard, making me confess, “Think I like him too.”
Youandyour dog.
“Yeah, he’s a good boy.” His voice drops. “Until he sees a collie. Then, he’s very bad. He has a real kink for them.”
Kink.
He tugs the black leather handle of Mutt’s leash, and a sweet jolt shoots between my thighs.
If he only knew.
Nervously, I laugh, leading the way to the trail. Halfway there, I realize Loch’s walking behind me, with his gaze not missing my ass, and I want to die, but instead, I focus on work again. “So, why’d you pick swift water as your specialty?”
Depending on the park, rangers perform a variety of jobs. Many work with visitors. Others monitor the environment or watch for fires. All enforce laws, while a few of us help with rescues too.
He lets Mutt off his leash, and the shepherd tears past me through the trees, excited.
“I grew up on the river,” he answers. “Water doesn’t scare me.”
“Where?”
“Uh…” He coughs. “Edisto.”
“What?” I whip around. “You’re from South Carolina?”
“Yeah.” He looks surprised. “You too?”
“Charleston. Folly Beach, really. It’s where my dad lives.”
“Huh.” He grins. “Small world.”
Small world?
Suddenly, it’s too small. With memories of the beach at home dotting my mind—most great, one traumatic—Loch looks familiar. Deeply familiar. “Have we met before?”
He cocks his head. “Don’t think so.”
