“Did you just quote Men In Tights to me?”
Breath still heaving, the corner of that kiss-swollen mouth curved. “Seems I did.”
Beckett chuckled, dropping his brow to hers. The chuckle rolled into a full on whoop of laugher. “My God, you may be my perfect woman.” Finding a thread of control somewhere in the humor, he tugged down her shirt and skimmed a thumb over her cheek. “But this is not the perfect setting.”
Her smile was wry. “I suppose I got a little carried away.”
“I’m not complaining, as I was right there with you. But your chastity belt of webbing probably saved us from crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed tonight.”
Sarah sucked in a breath and let it out on a long sigh. “You’re right. More’s the pity.”
“A pity indeed,” he murmured as she slid off the table. Because he didn’t care for the look of regret in her eyes, Beckett tipped her tipped her chin up and brushed a quick, soft kiss over her lips. “But hey, tomorrow’s another day.”
~*~
If Taylor’s ass had not been on the line, Sarah would’ve packed up in the dead of night and driven back to New York out of sheer embarrassment. Without the fog of lust, she was mortified. She’d practically climbed Beckett like a tree, and if not for the harness and his own heroic restraint, she was pretty sure they’d have ended up naked on that table in the equipment shed. That was…appalling.
She didn’t have issues with sex. She liked sex—or had in the dim, dark recesses of her memory when she’d last had it. But she wasn’t in the habit of going to bed—or table—with men she barely knew. Okay, she’d never been so carried away that she’d been tempted by the nearest horizontal surface. Beckett Hayes packed quite the sexual punch. And dear God, those shoulders. Damn. The fact was, sex appeal aside, she liked Beckett. He was focused, dedicated, thoughtful, and he had a helluva laugh, when he cut loose. He interested her more than anyone or anything had in more years than she could count.
And you’re leaving at the end of the week.
That made last night a terrible idea, exactly as he’d said before they’d mauled each other. It had been unquestionably mutual. Which was the only reason she managed to make herself turn toward the equipment shed a quarter after sunrise the next morning, instead of veering toward the parking lot.
The campus was silent but for the twitter of a few birds, who didn’t respect the holy rule of coffee before noise. Lake Waawaatesi was still and smooth as glass, reflecting the watercolor sky. Even in her uncaffeinated state, Sarah could appreciate that it was gorgeous. Somehow, that made the insult of being up at this hour a little bit less harsh. When was the last time she’d been somewhere this peaceful? At home, she’d be waking—unwillingly— to street construction or the honk and hum of traffic. This was better. So she paused, firing off a few shots with her camera to capture the moment for home.
The light was already on inside the equipment shed. Bracing herself, Sarah pushed the door open. Beckett stood at the table, sorting through a bin of ascenders. No doubt he was rechecking her work from yesterday. A fresh wave of embarrassment hit, and with it came gratitude that he’d figured it out. If something was wrong with any of the equipment she’d been meant to inspect, she’d prefer it be discovered rather than someone getting hurt because of her arrogance.
He turned. The smile started in his eyes, more blue than gray this morning, spreading like sunrise to the lips she’d dreamed about. And that, too, was a lovely way to start the day.
“Mornin’,” he said. “I brought coffee.”
The sweetest three words in the English language.
Zeroing in on the to-go cups emblazoned with the camp logo, Sarah made a beeline across the room. “You might be my perfect guy.”
She met his gaze as she lifted her cup, and suddenly that didn’t feel like joking flirtation.
Ridiculous. It’s just chemistry.
But it didn’t feel like just chemistry as she leaned back against the table and remembered his lips and hands on her. Sarah crossed her legs at the ankles and cleared her throat. “So what’s on the agenda this morning? Knots?”
“It can wait a few minutes. Drink your coffee and let your brain come online.”
“Bless you.” Maybe then her brain would catch up with her mouth and keep her from saying anything stupid. She sipped. “Do you regret last night?”
Coffee fail.
Beckett lifted a brow. “Do you?”
“I—” She opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Not exactly. I’m just embarrassed, I guess. I don’t normally… It’s been a while, and…”
He just stared at her, waiting.
Sarah’s cheeks went tight and hot. “Never mind. Forget I asked. Pre-coffee brain can’t be trusted.”
Beckett added another ascender back to the bin. “I don’t regret it, no. And I don’t think we have anything to be embarrassed about.”
She liked that he said “we.” And yet…