22. Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Jonathan
Y ou’d better cut that flirting out.
Jonathan traipsed along the perimeter of the clearing, collecting anything that could be used to build a fire. What had come over him? His focus should be on getting Lucy safely back to town, not seducing her. And what was with that nickname? Sunshine . It had slipped out a couple of times in an effort to comfort her, but he hadn’t anticipated how good it would feel rolling off his tongue.
He let out an irritated huff.
Get your shit together, man.
Jonathan stole a glance at Lucy. Her fingers struggled with a knot, face scowling in concentration. The nickname wasn’t inaccurate. She was warm and bright, like the morning sun. Aside from a few understandable mini-breakdowns, her optimism remained respectfully consistent throughout the last day and a half. She was tough and playful.
And sexy.
Being lost provided ample privacy. It’s not like anyone would come upon them if they were just to . . .
Jesus . Why had he reverted to thinking like a horny teenager? The lusty thoughts were altering his common sense, preventing him from conducting himself in the right way, given the risky circumstances. He was acting far too familiar with Lucy, and it was going to get him—both of them actually—into trouble.
Arms full of tinder, Jonathan walked to where he’d laid out a firepit. Glancing up, he watched Lucy unravel the hammock and attach it to the first rope. He was sure she had never hung a setup like that before, but instead of offering to help, he was curious to see how she would do.
By this point, he would have bet money—and lots of it—that she was never an honorary Eagle Scout. He’d been skeptical from the get-go but ignored the warning bells in his head and rationalized that stranger things had happened. And it was clear she had some knowledge, but how much was yet to be determined.
By the time the flames crackled steadily, Jonathan had observed Lucy fail four times to set up the hammock. “How’s it going over there?”
“Fine,” she called back in a clipped tone.
“Do you need any help with—”
“No! Build your fire.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Stubborn woman.” His hands itched, the urge so strong to step in and help. Averting his eyes helped quell the impulse somewhat, but he decided to allow her five more minutes of fumbling before he took over the task.
He tended the fire awhile, ensuring it would hold up enough to prepare dinner and last for the remainder of the evening.
“Done!” Lucy called over to Jonathan. “Care to check my work?” she cracked sarcastically.
Rising to his feet, he strode over, observing the dismay that swept away her confident grin. A brief glance at the hammock was enough to deduce how flimsy the hang was. “Are you messing with me?”
Letting out an offended squawk, Lucy jabbed her fists onto her hips. “And what’s that supposed to mean? ”
Jonathan picked up his pack and dropped it in the middle of the hammock without taking his eyes from Lucy’s. Knots unraveled as everything fell to the ground with a demonstrative thud. “You used overhand knots to tie the ropes. A falconer’s knot would have been better, or at least shoelace knots. You should know this, being an Eagle Scout and all.” He struggled to hold back a knowing grin, wondering how she would spin her lack of proper knot-tying knowledge.
Minty eyes flashing, Lucy opened and closed her mouth a few times, emitting no sound. She looked like a fish flopping on the deck of a boat, struggling to breathe. But instead of air, it was excuses she was desperate for. “I . . . It’s just that . . . You see . . .”
Jonathan slowly stepped toward Lucy, reducing the distance between them by half. She had to crane her neck to continue connecting with his gaze. She sure didn’t shy away from eye contact while fabricating her fibs. The mark of a great liar. Except Lucy sucked at it. Really sucked.
She was easy to read, didn’t blink, and vigorously wrung her hands together. Her tells were screams. For whatever reason, this comforted Jonathan. Instead of being angry that she was holding back the truth, he was amused. Watching how she stumbled over her words and stared aggressively with those shimmery fern-green eyes was slightly entertaining.
“Lucy,” he warned with a little more rumble than he intended. If possible, her eyes got even wider. Hands stopped wrenching. Mouth clamped shut. And Jonathan took another ill-advised step closer. Less than a foot separated them, and still, she didn’t look away. He watched her throat bob with a nervous swallow, wondering how she would respond if he reached out and slid a finger from chin to collarbone, tracing the line of motion. “You don’t have to lie to get what you want, sunshine.” The gravelly whisper stayed within the nearness of their proximity .
“Fine. Fine!” The first a broken squeak, the second a sturdier yelp. “I lied.”
She cut the stare between them, leaving Jonathan with a coolness as though she removed a warm hand from his nape. Goosebumps came and went, mimicking the bodily response to a cold gust. Lucy nudged a pebble with the toe of her shoe, her eyes fixed on the ground.
“I was never an Eagle Scout, honorary or otherwise.” The level of shame in her voice was disproportionate to her crime.
Empathy tugged at Jonathan’s heart. He ached to move closer and wrap his arms around her. Instead, he took a small step back, adding a bit of sensible distance. “Then why lie about it?” He was careful to ask without judgment but had to know the reason behind her misrepresentation.
Lucy took a few breaths, squared her shoulders, and looked back up at Jonathan.
“Because you were trying so hard to get rid of me.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly found her voice. Stepping forward, taking up the space he had created a moment ago, she raised a finger and poked him in the chest. “The moment you heard that I didn’t have a man with me, you were convinced I couldn’t hack it. Like, because I am a girl”—she corrected herself—“a woman, you automatically assumed that I’d be some clueless dingbat. You threw out all kinds of bullshit about liability this and safety that . You lied too. Your website didn’t say anything about that in the fine print. So, I’m thinking it has to be personal, right? You gave me a once-over and made your decision. So, yeah. I lied about being an Eagle Scout but didn’t lie about my hiking and camping experiences with my family. I’m fully capable, and you weren’t willing to give me a chance to prove it.” Her tone was fiery, and her eyes burned with accusation and anger.
Jonathan felt like a prick .
He kept his voice calm. “It had nothing to do with you being a woman. I know lots of adept women and trust their abilities as much as I do a man with the same experience. Hell, my sister works for me, and she is the most capable rafting guide on my payroll.” She had it all wrong. He had no problem with her gender. His problem was with the near-electric reaction he had when she was around. First at The Rooftop, then in his dream, and again in the Off the Beaten lobby. But he couldn’t exactly give her the main reason. So, he half-lied. “My problem was with the switch up. I don’t always do well adapting to change when it’s sprung on me at the last minute.” Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I prepared for two people. I’m not just talking with gear, but mentally too. I like to know all the tangibles before going on an excursion, and you showing up on your own threw me for a loop.”
“So, you alter your plan. You don’t lie about it and dismiss a customer.” Resentment was still present, but the flat-out anger had dissipated. “Especially one that’s paying double,” she finished with a hint of scorn woven into her words.
Jonathan snorted. “How could I have been so shortsighted?”
Lucy just shrugged.
“Let me make it up to you.” He had a strong urge to undo his blunder and make it right with her.
“Well.” Lucy chewed on her bottom lip and looked at the heap of nylon jumbled in the dirt. “I could use some help.”
Jonathan smiled. “Why don’t I handle it?” It was the least he could do.
“No.” Lucy shook her head and then smiled tentatively. “Teach me.”