That was how he’d chosen his life as it was now. He performed boot camps for the wealthy and performed in bed for the rich women. He provided a service, they took said service, then said good-bye with no strings attached. He’d never fit in to that kind of world anyway. The kind of world Michelle was clearly from. And that was fine with him. He’d learned his lesson the hard way. Getting mixed up with someone too rich for your blood only left you emotionally bankrupt.
“I thought you said you brought all your survival necessities in that purse of yours?” he asked when Michelle huffed again, trying to reinforce her structure.
Did she…did she just take gum out of her mouth and stick it on the branch?
Yep, she had.
“I have everything I need right here,” she replied and did a quick inventory of her bag. She was mumbling, but Dex was pretty sure he heard the words “moisturizer” and “vitamins.”
“Do you have water?” he asked.
“No,” she said softly.
“Food?”
“I have a gluten-free granola bar.”
Oh boy.
“And your shelter is…”
“Sorry, I don’t carry around a tarp on my person like you do,” she snapped.
He almost laughed. Even if she wasn’t clearly out of her element, of course, she wasn’t as prepared as a pro like himself. He was the best because he’d been trained by the best. He always had the essentials in his pack. Food, water, shelter. He could make fire on his own, but matches helped—why make things harder?—so he had those, too.
Just then, Michelle’s “shelter” caught a small gust of wind and toppled into a pile of sticks to the ground.
She stood and looked down at what had taken her an hour to build. It didn’t take a pro to see it would never work as a shelter. Not in a million years.
Dex hustled up to her side. Shit, she was going to cry. He could see the water start to line those pretty blue eyes.
“I can’t do it,” she said softly. “I tried. Thought I could and…”
“You can,” he said and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done a great job.”
She scoffed and looked up at him beneath thick lashes. “Yeah, right.”
She glanced at his shelter over his shoulder and shook her head.
“I’m failing,” she said so softly that Dex almost missed it. “Looks like I’m not very adventurous. What else is new?”
His heart sank.
The deflated tone in her voice and the defeat in her eyes tugged on Dex’s chest. He’d frequently had to step in to keep some rich girl from starving or freezing to death, but this was the first one who’d shown him an emotional vulnerability. He almost didn’t know what to do, but he’d be damned if he let her wither from crumbling self-esteem. Not on his watch.
“Why don’t you come over to my place?” he asked. “Sit by the fire and have a drink.”
She eyed him suspiciously, but when another gust of wind came and her teeth chattered, he didn’t wait for her answer, just grabbed her hand and tugged her into his makeshift tent.
He sat her close by the fire, then got out his flask of rum and handed it to her.
“This isn’t me running toward the easy option,” she said.
“Princess, nothing about what you’ve done today has been easy. You’re fighting. There’s something to be said for that. Now you’re just going to choose hanging out with me over getting hypothermia tonight. Unless that’s on your checklist of things to experience?”
She glared at him, and it was damn cute. This list of hers was fun, and he had a feeling bringing it up flustered her. Which was also fun since it meant he got to see those pretty cheeks turn pink.
She took the flask he offered. “You know alcohol only creates the illusion that you feel warm, when in fact, you’re still just as cold,” she said. But she took the drink anyway. The way she informed him of facts was also kind of cute. Like she was teaching him something. She took a small swallow, then handed it back to him.
“You’re right, princess.” He took a swig, welcoming that warm burn down his throat. “But illusion or not, I love the feel of it. Worth indulging every time.”
When he handed it to her again, she took it. On a hard swallow, she tossed back more rum, then winced and handed it back.
“So, you want to tell me why you signed up for this?” he asked. “This doesn’t seem like your idea of a good time.”
“How would you know?” she asked, straightening her shoulders with a stubbornness he was already recognizing after their short time together. “Maybe I do this all that time. Maybe this is fun for me.”
“No way,” he said around a laugh. “If that were true, you’d be dead by now.”
She frowned, and damn it, that was what he was trying to steer away from.
“Look,” he said, handing her back the rum. “I really do think you’re doing a good job. You’re driven, and that’s a great thing to be when taking on any challenge.”
Her eyes went a little wide, as though she were physically hanging on his words. Wow, no one had ever looked at him like that before. Like he could do anything. Say anything. And it would matter in her world.
“Go on,” she said, the yearning in her voice driving him insane.
“You impress me,” he said, not sure why that little fact decided to slip out just then.
A small smile tugged on her lush slips. “Really?”
He nodded. “Men twice your size have shed tears by now.”