Unbelievable. Even his feet were attractive.
She pulled the door open before he had the chance to knock. His T-shirt strained the width of his chest, and it took her a few seconds to redirect her eyes to his face. He gave her a toothy grin.
“Keep that up, we won’t make it off this porch.” He brushed her body with his eyes. “You look gorgeous.”
So do you, she thought, gawking at him hungrily.
“Thank you.” She slid her hands down her shorts self-consciously. Were they this short when she put them on earlier? Palming a small purse, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
Shane didn’t reach for her hand or move to kiss her, and Crickitt couldn’t decide if she was glad about that or not. He opened the passenger door.
“You drove,” she said, sinking into a butter-yellow leather seat.
“You didn’t think I’d bring a limo to our first date, did you?”
She did, but she didn’t say so.
In the driver’s seat, Shane slid his sunglasses on and revved the engine. The car rumbled like a live animal. “Ready, Freddy?”
She nodded.
“If you need a hat, there’s one in the glove compartment,” he said.
She decided to spare Shane her Medusa head and pulled the baseball cap over her hair. After a few seconds of his unabashed staring, she sent him a questioning glance.
Tugging on the cap, he swore lightly. “You’re too attractive for your own good, Crickitt.”
Shane navigated the convertible through highway traffic with speedy caution. His hair whipped in the wind as he moved his lips to a song on the radio. He had it all wrong. It was Shane, not her, who was too attractive for his own good.
How about a date with a devastatingly charming billionaire? Don’t mind if I do.
“What are you smiling about?” Shane yelled over the music.
She shook her head. Shane snapped his attention to the road and cars around them, gauged his speed, then leaned over and stole a brief kiss.
Memories of last night flooded over her, the firm insistence of his lips and the feel of his hands grazing her rib cage. As if reading her mind, he shot her a primal, dangerous grin. Whatever he had planned for them today, she hoped she could handle it.
Ten minutes later they pulled into John Adams Reserve. Crickitt held on to the door handle for stability as Shane whipped into a parking space. He killed the engine and she tossed the hat into the backseat and tousled her hair into some semblance of shape. “A park,” she said, taking in their surroundings as he opened her door for her.
Picnic areas were alive with smoking grills, their inhabitants milling around ice-filled coolers or lounging at brown wooden tables. Kids and adults dotted a lake in the distance, some fishing off the dock, others from boats. A few dogs chased balls and Frisbees along the water’s edge.
“Hope you like the great outdoors,” he said.
“I do.” She accepted his hand and he helped her out. “Kind of surprised you do.”
“You underestimate me.” He tsked. “I like that in a woman.”
After nearly an hour of traversing a rocky hillside, navigating around logs and boulders and through dense brush and trees, Crickitt realized Shane was right. She had underestimated him, and overestimated her level of physical fitness. Her calves screamed, her steps slowing as they came to yet another incline.
She leaned against a tree trunk to catch her breath, remembering too late she’d worn white. Stepping away, she dusted the back of her shorts.
“Let me know if you need help with that,” Shane offered.
“Are you always this forward?” she asked, but her reprimand held little threat.
“Not always.”
“I think I need a break.”
He grimaced as he approached. “But we’re so close.”
She looked over his shoulder where a hill as steep as the side of a pyramid loomed.
Giving her a brief assessment, he turned away and squatted down. “Get on.”
She took one look at his broad back and shook her head. “No way.”
“Why not?”
She crossed her arms. “Because…” She stopped short of the litany of obvious references. She was five five, not exactly petite, and she had a healthy curve to her hips and backside. She was far from overweight, but neither was she rail thin. “Because,” she repeated.
“Lame,” Shane said, standing to face her. “You’re underestimating me again. Tell you what, you can either get on my back, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way.” He flashed her a smile. “I dare you to call me on that.” He bent down and patted his back with both hands.