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I shake off the feeling, grab two duffel bags full of climbing gear, haul them around to the back of the center, and unlock the storage space to put everything away. I hustle back for the helmets and the box of carabiners, then sort the items on the shelves, checking each piece to make sure it’s still safe for use.

A knock on the door behind me interrupts my work.

“Hi,” a sweet, husky female voice says. “I thought I saw someone in the parking lot.”

I turn slowly and wipe my hands on the towel I’ve been using to clean a helmet that one of the tourists dropped in dirt.

The woman—this must be Lainey—stands illuminated by the late-afternoon sunshine, so all I can make out is that she’s a head shorter than me and curvy in a way that draws my attention immediately.

“Hey.” I step toward her, reaching out to shake her hand. “I’m Bowen.”

She moves into the dim storage space to meet me. “Lainey.”

“Lainey.”

I repeat her name because my brain’s glitching, all systems overheating with the realization that the kind colleague I’ve checked in with so many times over this summer is stunning.

Her auburn hair falls to her shoulders in soft curls, her hazel eyes, wide with surprise, are the most gorgeous I’ve ever seen, and her lips…

Gods, her pink lips would tempt a saint, and I’m definitely not one of those.

I drag my gaze up to notice that she’s staring at me, too. Her attention jumps from my too-long hair to my tusks, my three-day beard, and lastly to my arms. Her mouth opens in a surprised little “O,” and I think that maybe this dirty t-shirt wasn’t the worst idea after all.

Then she scrunches her eyes shut, shakes herself a little, and focuses her gaze on my face.

“Um.” She fidgets in place. “I didn’t know you had the keys. I thought that’s why you wanted me to still be here. I mean, when you called, you said…”

She trails off, her cheeks flushing prettily. She drops her gaze to the row of climbing helmets, and I immediately miss her gaze on me.

“I wanted to finally meet you,” I tell her.

It’s an honest answer—too honest, if her embarrassed expression is any indication. Every emotion shows plainly on her face, and right now, I’m making her uncomfortable.

“Sorry.” I step back, giving her space. I’m big, taller than her by a foot and twice as broad, so I get why that can be intimidating to a woman. “I just meant—you’re the only one working here I haven’t met yet.”

She clasps her hands in front of herself. “No, I get it. I’ve been wanting to meet you, too. It felt weird talking to you on the phone almost every day and not knowing what you look like.”

Something about the way her gaze slips to my chest for a second before she catches herself and focuses on my face again has me grinning.

I don’t think Miss Floriano is uncomfortable. She might just be shy and, yes, embarrassed by my earlier admission.

I take a deep inhale through my nose and get hit with her sweet floral scent. It blooms in the small space, fighting for dominance with the well-known stink wafting off the helmets and the climbing gear.

But now that I’ve scented her, I can recognize the subtle whiff of her interest beneath the nervousness.

She’s not afraid.

“And now that you’ve met me?” I lean back against the workbench. “Do you approve?”

Her eyes widen at the question, and she does a thorough once-over of me that I don’t hate at all. Her flush spreads from her cheeks to her neck, and I can’t help but follow it to the tops of the most magnificent tits, hidden beneath the soft material of her top.

Damn, I love how expressive she is.

I want to find out all the ways I could make her blush like this.

“Yeah,” she breathes. She lifts her chin, defiant despite how flustered she is.

She doesn’t seem to mind a little dirt on me.