“I think I can.” He puts down the tin cup and grabs one of the slim foil packets that contains my coffee, one of four. Four servings left.
“Go ahead, then, put it all in,” I say. “Because this shit that you have in mind? It’s not happening.”
He puts it all in.
I grab a trail bar and rip into it. “And I’m eating as many of these as I want, because there is no fucking way I’m doingClan of the Cave Bearwith you.” I stir my coffee. It’s stronger than it needs to be.
I gulp a bit down and instantly start feeling more rational.
He rolls up the sleeping bag.Mysleeping bag. He didn’t use his sleeping bag. I guess that one was for me, too. All of this camping stuff is for me, I realize.
Kiro’s like one of those wilderness guys who can be airlifted into the middle of nowhere naked and survive, no problem. And there I was in that camping store, picking things out like a fool. No wonder he was so interested in my opinions.
I wander to the shore, savoring my coffee, trying to think. What if I did disable him? He might be right about how hard it would be to get back. But surely if I trekked far enough south, I’d get a signal with my phone or run into somebody. And if I had the canoe? It’s not like I’m in a desert with no water or food surrounded by scorpions and rattlesnakes. I need the canoe and a head start, I decide. And my phone.
It’s foolish to try to run—he’s probably right about that. But isn’t it foolish just to go with him? The foolish ledger seems pretty evenly balanced between my two options.
I sip, looking out at the craggy, rocky shores. I spot one of the slick black rocks Kiro warned me about. I’ll avoid those.
He comes up next to me. “I missed this so much. This beauty. The sun. The silence. The scent of live things. You can’t know what it is to be home.”
“And I don’t get the same consideration? I don’t get to go home?”
“You said you didn’t have a home.”
“I’m between homes. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I like to pick my home.”
He goes to pack up the canoe. I watch him, mind racing in circles from one option to another. He kind of has me checkmated. Even if I knocked him out with a boulder and took the canoe and phone, I don’t really think I could get back. I need a map. Campers. Something.
I spot a deer grazing on the shore, and all I can think is,fuck.
“Are you enjoying your coffee?”
“I always do.”
“Finish it. We have to set off.”
“Aren’t we having breakfast?”
“Later.”
His hair catches the light as he puts our stuff into the canoe. His plaid shirt looks soft, tightening over his huge muscles. His canvas shorts cup his ass as he bends to bungee cord the stuff in.
He’s my captor. He shouldn’t seem hot anymore.
I turn away and take another sip. I’m not stupid. I know I can’t make my move now—this is exactly when he’ll be expecting it.
“Ready?”
“Part of having coffee in the morning is enjoying it.”
He comes up behind me and smoothes my curls. My pulse races as he touches me with that strange mix of tenderness and domination. “I like your hair like this.”
I stare into the last bit of my coffee, cooling in the tin camping cup with its fancy retractable handle. The coffee doesn’t help much with my ability to wrap my mind around the fact that beautiful, savage Kiro has me in the middle of the wilderness under his total control.
Because you’re my mate.The words make my belly feel melty.
He pushes his lips to my neck. “You can finish it in the canoe.”