She slid him one of those indescribable looks that Cam knew from experience always meant trouble in one form or another.
“Why don’t you come with us tonight?” Nick asked her.
She cocked her head. “Why? Is there some reason I should?”
“Yeah, it’s a full moon. It’ll be a great view. We could wait while you change.”
“Is there something wrong with these clothes then?”
“No.” Nick clearly sensed trouble, but he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to the intricate workings of the female mind and how to follow them.
Annie’s voice cooled to subzero. “I’ll go if you can tell me what’s different about me tonight.”
Nick gulped. “Your hair. You did your hair.”
Annie’s mouth tightened and she slapped a hand to his chest to push him out of her way. “Sack snacks,” she said again to the group. “Come get your sack snack-”
Nick reached for one.
Annie held them out of his reach. “Sorry, I didn’t make one for you.”
“You said you had enough for everyone.”
“Everyone but you.”
“But you have an extra right there-”
“It’s Cam’s.”
Cam caught it an inch from his face. Annie could throw on the best of days, but when she was pissed, she could pitch for the A’s.
Nick sighed and went back to giving out poles to go with the snowshoes.
“Thought you knew everything,” Cam said to him.
Nick growled, and Cam moved away just in time to avoid bodily harm. He watched Katie accept her poles and the snowshoes with a sweet smile, clearly avoiding getting too close to him. No doubt, she was more than a little confused by his hot-and-cold behavior. He had no defense, no good one anyway. When it came to her and what the hell was the right thing to do, he no longer had a clue.When everyone was ready, they moved outside. They were going to take the Stone Creek Summit trail from the back of the lodge, which would lead up the High Sierra Pass to a plateau that on a bright, crystal-clear night such as tonight would seem like the top of the world.
His group consisted of one romantically linked couple, three friends, and Katie. Let’s not forget Katie. As if he could, she with the biggest, most expressive eyes on the entire planet, not to mention the fact that she was wearing those ski pants he’d given her and right this minute was bending over to tighten her boots, giving him a nice view of the way they fit her sweet ass. Especially since he’d had his hands on said sweet ass and wished he was getting his hands on her again in the near future, without the pants this time. In fact, he wanted to get his hands on her, his mouth on her, his tongue-
She straightened and turned, and caught him staring.
“Odd to find you staring at me like that,” she said lightly. “After earlier, when I figured either you changed your mind about wanting me, or…you’re so scared of me.”
Hell of a multiple choice.
She waited for a minute, then smiled a little tightly as she patted his arm. “It’s okay, Cam.” She moved away to join the others, leaving him staring after her. After his accident, he’d closed himself off. If he were being honest, he’d done that long before too. But that technique didn’t seem to be working for him much anymore.
Only he wasn’t sure what to do to change it. Christ, he was tired of thinking, tired of himself. He turned to the group, clearing his head as everyone began to put on their snowshoes. The night was a good one, about thirty degrees. Better than the freeze-your-balls-off cold it’d been all week. “Anyone having problems?”
Only one hand shot up: Katie’s. “I’m sorry,” she said apologetically when he crouched down at her side. “I don’t know which foot is which.”
“With these snowshoes it doesn’t make a difference.”
“Okay, I’m good then.” Standing up, she took a step, and walked right out of the snowshoes, nearly falling on her face. “Huh, maybe not so good.”
He gestured her back over to him and helped her, which required him kneeling at her side, putting his hands on her legs, “Katie?”
“Yes?”
“About those two choices you gave me.” He lifted his head. “I’m not afraid.”
She looked at him a long moment. “No worries. I think I get it.”
“No, you don’t.” He tightened her bindings with a little tug. She gasped and put her hands on his head, gripping his hair, using him for balance. “I’ve climbed Mt. McKinley,” he told her. “I’ve skied the Death Zone in France. I’m not afraid of much.” He paused, then told her the stone-cold hard truth, “But I tend to be a quitter.”
“Oh, Cam. No-”
“Don’t.” He said this more harshly than he’d intended, but as the saying went, the truth hurt. He quit. When the going got tough, the tough got going, and he walked.
Always.
“It’s just the way it is. Lift your foot.”
She complied, and he tightened the other boot as well so that she’d stay in them for the next few hours of climbing. Her fingers were still in his hair, but more so than that was the fact that his head was at her crotch level. If he turned his face, he’d be within two inches of where he’d wanted to be since he first saw her in his bed. A ridiculously immature thought, but he couldn’t seem to help it. “Try that.”