Girl Gone Viral (Modern Love #2)(68)

“That’s how you get away from bears.” Another wet hit on her arm. How did he still have so many?

“I think that’s a myth about alligators, and I’m neither of those things.” The laughter in his voice was evident. Something smacked the ground at her feet, and she sped up. “Quit running. Stand your ground.”

“Retreat is the better part of valor,” she managed, though she was huffing and puffing. It was warm today, and she was actually sweating a little despite her damp clothes.

She ran right into the copse of trees, darting around the big trunks. She finally stopped when she couldn’t hear his footsteps behind her any longer. She tried to control her breathing, and then carefully peered around.

She narrowed her gaze at the undisturbed, silent clearing. No way would Jas lose her. “I know you’re out there,” she yelled.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She almost ignored it but she did hate to ignore phone calls when they could be for work or one of her friends.

It was one of her friends, but one who was pretty local.

I’m at 3 o’clock. Don’t be startled.

There went her heart, all aglow.

She turned to face Jas. He leaned against a tree, his hair glossy from the remnants of one of her hits. He spread his empty hands in front of him. “You wouldn’t hurt an unarmed man?”

She tossed a balloon in the air and caught it. “Nice try. Use camouflage balloons next time, I see the one you stuck in the branch above your head.”

His lips formed a smile, and he reached up and grabbed the water balloon. “Good eye.”

She threw one of her balloons to the ground and it burst. The water was harmless, but later, she’d come out and pick up all the balloon remnants. Though knowing Jas, he’d probably already considered the environmental impact of their little game here and had a cleanup plan in place. “Truce?”

He nodded solemnly and sacrificed his single balloon to the grass.

She lifted her other arm, considered him for a second, then let her second balloon fly, laughing when it smacked him in the stomach.

“We said truce!”

She laughed harder at his outraged expression. “You were the one who told me to use whatever tools I had at my disposal, remember?”

His eyes narrowed. “Oh right.” He took deliberate steps toward her and she eyed him with suspicion. “What are you doing?”

He walked faster, bridging the short distance between them. “Using my tools.”

She squeaked in amusement and feigned trepidation and tried to dart away, but he was so much faster than she was. He caught her by the waist and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took a step back. In her mind, they would effortlessly make love against the tree, with her legs wrapped around his waist and absolutely no splinters in her bare ass.

In reality, she tripped on a root.

He tightened his grip on her when she stumbled, but that somehow threw his balance off-kilter, and the momentum toppled them both to the ground. He twisted at the last minute so he took the brunt of the fall. He grunted when she landed on top of him like a graceless sack of potatoes.

His shirt was damp and cold, and his hair was messier than before, with pieces of hay stuck in it. So bedraggled, so sexy. She scrambled up. “Are you okay? Your knee?”

“Yes.” He stroked her back. “You?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good.” His fingers played over her sides rapidly.

She stacked her hands on top of his chest and rested her chin on them. “What are you doing?”

He frowned. “Using my tools.”

“Your tools were your kiss.”

“No, my tools are tickling you.” His fingers moved with renewed vigor.

“Oh, I’m not ticklish.”

His frown deepened. “I just need to find the right spot.” His tickling attempt moved to her back.

She stared at him, then touched her fingers lightly to his side. He cringed and laughed immediately. “Stop!”

He was ticklish. Delight ran through her. The devil in her wanted to continue, but she’d give him a break. “This was very enlightening, thank you.”

He grunted in acceptance. “I’ll find your ticklish spot later.”

She waggled her eyebrows. “Feel free to find all my spots.”

His eyes widened, and she hoped she hadn’t crossed some kind of line . . . double entendres with Jas would take some getting used to. But he chuckled. “Will do.”

“My first snow slash hay slash water fight was quite fun.”

His smile stretched ear to ear. “Agreed. A snowball fight might actually be boring after this.”

“I’d like to try it. And snow cones. I’ve never had one of those.”

His smile turned quizzical. “Never?”

She wrinkled her nose. “My childhood pretty much ended at nine, and I never went back after to try some of the smaller pleasures.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Someday, perhaps you could tell me more about your life with your father.”

Her fingers curled into his chest. Her people-pleasing personality urged her to please him, but talking about her father too much made her want to throw up. It was a testament to how good her therapist was that she was able to listen to her body instead of her instant desire to make someone else happy. “I can try,” was the best she could do.