Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Thought you’d never ask.” Turning so their torsos were more aligned, Canaan pulled him close for a kiss that built slowly from little sparks of contact to all-consuming inferno with deep, drugging slides of lips and tongues. Fuck. Renzo held Canaan tighter, hands sweeping down his back. A needy sound he didn’t recognize came from his throat.
“Mmm.” Canaan’s voice was even more self-satisfied than it had been at the conclusion of the hike, like he’d conquered some big milestone with that kiss. And maybe he had. Renzo was too dizzy with need to really analyze it. “Let’s—”
“Who’s helping with dinner prep?” A voice sounded right outside their tent. Renzo stiffened and thrust Canaan away.
“Maybe hold that thought?” Giving Renzo a sheepish smile, Canaan untangled their limbs.
“Okay.” Renzo would have agreed to just about anything right then that would guarantee him more of those kisses. Which was dangerous. Heat like theirs inevitably led to a big boom—and not always the good kind. But hell if he wasn’t looking forward to darkness now.
Chapter Ten
Screw food. Canaan wanted more kissing time with Renzo. Damn, but that man could kiss. There was something so sweet about how Renzo always started slow, holding back, but then reached a breaking point when he growled and took over and made Canaan feel like his hair was melting from the force of their passion. And he was so present too—not pushing for more, not trying to get in Canaan’s pants, simply kissing and kissing.
Until they were interrupted. And then he jumped apart, almost like he was relieved at the need to go help with dinner. Yeah. Uh-huh. Like chopping potatoes and onions for foil packs was so much more exciting than making out. So Canaan made it easy on him, because he really was counting on getting a lot more later.
“Bet you’re just glad it’s not MREs, huh?” Kelly was working on the opposite side of the picnic table from the two of them. Like Renzo, he was making double foil packs—those two guys could probably out-eat the rest of the crew if they really wanted. Renzo was loading his up with meat patties and vegetables while Canaan was more about the potatoes and butter.
“You know it. Fresh vegetables almost feel like a luxury.” Renzo added more zucchini to one of his packs, then reached over and sprinkled some carrots over Canaan’s potatoes.
“Hey!”
“Man cannot live on starch alone.” Renzo’s smile was warm and teasing.
“Paternalistic much?” Damian had apparently been paying attention from his spot farther down the table. “Canaan has always eaten like crap when he’s not home. You’re not going to change him.”
“Gee, thanks.” If it were possible to spontaneously ignite, he was pretty sure his look would have reduced Damian to ash. “And it’s been three years, D, I’ve changed plenty.”
Damian shook his head but returned to his conversation with Eric, as if he hadn’t just lobbed a sack of shit in Canaan’s direction. There’d been a time when they’d lived on junk food and cheap snacks together, holed up in one of their rooms, living on salty kisses and young emotion. But people changed. Grew up. Discovered vegetables. Turned into assholes. All that.
Canaan opened his mouth, about to follow up on all the ways they’d both changed, but Renzo caught his eye and mouthed, Not worth it.
So Canaan just privately seethed as they finished up their food prep. Fuck Damian. As they waited for the foil packs to cook, the younger of the two guides handed out lemonade and iced tea and fielded questions about why there weren’t any beers.
“Tomorrow’s hike is extra challenging. You’re going to love the narrow canyons and deserted trail. We only get to do this one a few months of the year—can’t do it during the rainy season or when the risk of flash flooding is too high. And even with decent weather forecast for tomorrow, we need everyone awake and alert.”
Renzo nodded approvingly. “Makes sense.”
“Thank God for flasks,” Damian said under his breath to one of the women near him by the fire.
The guide talked more about the route they would take, but Canaan still wasn’t up on the jargon—slot canyons and slide risks and creek washes didn’t hold his attention as much as watching Renzo did. Renzo had good questions for the guide before helping set up camp chairs around the fire pit and assisting with taking food off the fire. He was great at making himself useful, and Canaan tried to follow his example.
The food was hot and satisfying after their day of hiking and making camp. Canaan even ate the extra vegetables Renzo had slipped him, laughing as Renzo ate both of his foil packs as well as Canaan’s leftover meat. After dinner cleanup, the older guide announced plans for a moonlight hike for those who wanted a nice place to watch the sunset and then an educational walk in the dark with the guide.