“I shouldn’t have told you about Brea.”
“Jenner! I get it, okay? Please don’t sit here and talk about how you regret every conversation we’ve had. I haven’t talked about Adam either, but for fuck’s sake, I’m not taking it back. It felt good for a minute, sharing that part of myself with someone else. I understand. I really do. If you have to ignore me to get us back to a guide-client relationship, fine. But don’t make me feel bad for having a vulnerable moment with you.”
After a few awkward minutes, Jenner cleared his throat. “So, what have you photographed before?” The question was stiff and formal and made her want to curl her lip up in a snarl. It was a distancing question, but she was tired and sore from the saddle and wholly uninterested in back-peddling with the baffling man tonight.
Lena shook her head and went back to sketching. “Fuck off, Jenner.”
“What are you sketching?”
Lena frowned down at the picture of Jenner’s face. She was currently shading his eyes. They looked empty and distant, but his dark brows were drawn down as if he were lost in thought. “Wolves.”
He gripped a metal mug in his hands and sighed. “I can hear a lie.”
“Great for you,” she snapped, slamming the sketchbook closed and shoving it into her satchel. “And you can growl and smell moose and tell when I’m on my period and turn off your warmth like a switch. Color me impressed. I’m going to wash up in the creek.” She snatched her backpack and strode off into the trees toward the sound of gurgling water.
Behind her, the clang of a metal cup smashing against a tree echoed through the quiet forest. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, but Jenner was standing with his back to her, his hands linked behind his head, looking up at the sky. His shoulders looked tense and his silhouette rigid. If he was pissed, so what? She’d slowly burned in his silence all day. They’d shared a monumental moment earlier, and then he’d emotionally shoved her away. This sucked. It was an awful feeling right now, knowing the rest of the trip would be like this. Torture.
There was a thin trail that led to the dark sandbank of the river. Her boots squished across the damp earth until she reached the gently lapping waves. In the distance, thunder rolled and the clouds lit up with a flash of lightning. The storm was still far away, but she could smell the rain. Bottle of body wash and plastic cup in hand, she kicked out of her boots. From here, the creek looked like it was only knee-deep. A moment of modesty took her, and she twisted around to make sure Jenner wasn’t there, just in case. But no, he wouldn’t follow her out here. Not as uninterested as he was, so she was safe to undress. The water was cold against her ankles, and she gasped as she made her way to the deepest part. She bathed and washed her hair as fast as she was able, then tossed her toiletries up on the bank and sank down into the waves to rinse off. She got used to the water, little by little, and then the air became colder than the water. She lifted her face to the moon, sitting heavy and low and half hidden by the approaching storm clouds. Around her, the wind brushed the tall grass this way and that, and as she wrung water from her hair, she smiled up at Mother Moon, who was drawing long notes from distant wolves, howling at her beauty as the lightning lit up the distant clouds.
A limb snapped, and Lena jerked her gaze to the bank behind her.
Jenner sat on a grassy ledge as though he’d been there the entire time. The limb she’d heard breaking was between his fingers. Of course a wild thing like Jenner Silver wouldn’t have been careless enough to let her hear his approach.
Chills blasted up her arms, and she clutched them over her chest, shielding her breasts even though she was sitting with her back to him.
When Jenner lifted that striking gaze to her, even brighter in the moonlight, he looked troubled. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. This is brown bear country.”
Lena huffed and returned her gaze to the moon. “I’m sure you would hear danger coming from a mile away.”
“Even so.”
“I’m not decent, Jenner. If you want to cling to our professional relationship, you should go back to camp.”
There was a shuffling of fabric, but she’d be damned if she watched after him pathetically as he left.
When he brushed her shoulder, she stiffened, startled that he was still here at all. He sat in the waves behind her, legs encasing her on either side.
“What are you doing?” she asked on a shocked breath.
Jenner brushed her damp hair off her shoulder and kissed her neck. Pulling her back against his erection, he whispered, “This is a mistake.”
She bristled at that word. “Jenner, I don’t want to be anyone’s mistake.”