Instant Temptation (Wilder #3)(37)

“So I’m tougher than Cam?”

He grinned. “Much.”

His smile had the usual effect on her, meaning she was rendered momentarily stupid. She was sitting on a rock, pulling her socks from her shoes, when he sat next to her, thighs touching. And then his hands were on her shoulders, turning her, pulling her back to his chest to whisper in her ear. “Across the water, two o’clock.”

A hundred yards over a black bear stalked the edge of the water, walking away from them, her shoulders moving powerfully with each step. Behind her rollicked two bear cubs, waiting for mama to catch breakfast.

Harley’s breath caught in her throat as she slipped her hand into her backpack for her camera and started snapping.

They watched in awed silence as the bear charged into the churning water, splashing, pouncing, striking out with a plate-sized paw, coming back up with a large fish in its mouth. Fur dripping, she turned to her babies, who were far more interested in romping at the water’s edge than eating. Mama admonished them with a nudge, and they wandered off.

When they were gone, Harley realized she was practically in TJ’s lap, and his arms were around her.

“Don’t get much of that from behind my computer.”

He watched as she put away the camera and reached for her shoes. “This Colorado job. It’s a research position then? No fieldwork?”

“Almost all research, with very little if any fieldwork.”

He didn’t say a word. And she didn’t either. But she thought maybe he was wondering why she’d chosen research instead of field study.

At the moment, she was wondering the same. Concentrating on that, she tugged her laces tight, and one snapped off in her hand. “Crap.”

TJ went to his pack and pulled out the same pouch he’d pulled out the other night, the one that had held the smaller bag of Fritos. From it he withdrew…dental floss. “Shoelace.”

She stared at it, then slowly took it out of his fingers. “I think I’m in love with your backpack.”

“And my sleeping bag.”

“Yeah. That, too.”

“And my sexy bod.”

She slid him a look. “What did I tell you about that?”

“You said not to bring up your sexy bod. I didn’t do that. I brought up mine.” He smiled innocently. “So what else are you in love with?”

When she didn’t say a word, he smiled. “Let me guess. Me.”

“Ha.”

He went quiet a moment. “There are all kinds of love, Harley.”

This stopped her. “How many kinds?”

“Well, there’s the deeply affectionate kind,” he pointed out. “Like you’d feel for family. Although sometimes it’s more…murderous than deep affection.”

“I’ll buy that,” she said.

“And then there’s the love you feel for someone you’re attracted to.”

“You mean lust,” she corrected.

“That, too, but I’m talking about more than one hot night. Like maybe you want to be with that person—for now.”

She eyed him, curious. Was he talking about them? “Without the commitment.”

“Yeah.”

“For people who have a short attention span, or are afraid to go deeper.”

“Maybe.”

“Like every fling you’ve ever had?” she asked sweetly.

“Calling the kettle black?”

“Hey, I haven’t had a fling in forever,” she said.

“It’s not the quantity…”

Knowing he was right, she held her tongue. For a moment. “I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything. I mean, I’ve seen you huck yourself off a cliff with your brothers with just a snowboard on your feet and live to tell the tale. I’ve seen you hanging off a rock that you free-climbed without a rope, nothing saving you from certain death except your own fingertips. Hell, I’ve even seen you face down a pissed-off rattlesnake.”

His eyes never left hers. “Those are all physical things.”

“You saying you’re afraid of something as simple as an emotion?”

He didn’t respond—which she supposed was answer enough. Who was she to press the issue, because when it came to that particular fear, they were in perfect accord. “So say you’re right,” she said, needing to lighten the mood. “And that there are all kinds of love.

“Yeah?”

“Then I guess it is entirely possible that I love you.”

He tripped over his own feet, something she’d never, ever, seen him do, and she smiled. “In the way I loved watching those bears,” she continued. “With a healthy respect and a good amount of distance for my well-being.”

“Now who’s the funny one?” he asked.

TJ followed Harley to the broken surveillance equipment on the ridge. She’d put on a pair of sunglasses and some ChapStick, both having taken her a good long time to find in her backpack, which made him shake his head.

But God, he loved to watch her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re smiling.”

“All right. Maybe”—he stroked a finger over her temple—“maybe I love you, too.” He heard her breath catch. “In the same way that we both loved that hungry, grumpy bear.”