Sergeant Sexypants by Tawna Fenske

Author:Tawna Fenske [Fenske, Tawna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tawna Fenske

“Grab the pole and slide it in nice and slow.”

I confess I’ve spent several nights with my hand in my pajama pants imagining Austin Dugan murmuring something like that in my ear.

But this isn’t how I pictured it.

“There you go,” he says as I guide the tent pole through the little sleeve thingy and out the other end. “This is really your first time camping?”

“Yes,” I admit, sticking the little peg thingy into the hole on the end of the pole the way Austin showed me earlier. I should probably learn some terminology that doesn’t involve the word thingy.

I blow a curl off my forehead and wonder if I should have dressed more casually. I got the jeans down okay, but I hope he can’t tell these boots are the designer variety instead of something more practical.

“My dad took my brothers camping when it was their turn to visit him,” I continue. “But I got horseback riding and spa appointments instead.”

“Huh,” Austin says. “That’s something, I guess.”

Shit, did I sound like poor little rich girl again? “I’m not complaining,” I assure him. “But I wouldn’t have minded sleeping outside. Or learning to fish or use power tools or all the other things my brothers were coached on before they could even drive.”

Austin grins and finishes pounding one of the tent stakes into the ground. His shoulders bunch as he brings the hammer down, and I wonder why I never dated an outdoorsy guy before. Or a cop.

Okay, I know why I didn’t date cops.

“You know how to make a campfire?” he asks as he stands up, brushing his hands on his jeans.

“That I can handle.” I don’t tell him I spent hours poring over YouTube videos to figure it out so I could show guests at the resort how to run their fancy fire pits.

We set to work building the fire together, crumpling paper and adding bits of kindling until the flames start to grow. We work well together, and I can’t help wondering what it would be like to do this sort of thing all the time.

“I think I would have liked learning this stuff as a kid,” I admit. “Learning how to make fire instead of how to distinguish a fish fork from a dessert fork.”

“There’s a special fork for fish?”

“Absolutely.” A twinge of self-consciousness needles me, but Austin’s not looking at me like he’s judging. He seems genuinely curious. “There are salad forks and dinner forks and deli forks and fruit forks and ice cream forks.”

He snorts and arranges a log on the pile of glowing embers. “Rich people eat ice cream with a fork?”

“I guess it’s sort of like a spork,” I say, surprised to discover I’m not bristling at all about the ‘rich people’ comment. There’s no snideness in Austin’s voice, no trace of nastiness at all. Just curiosity. “You’re supposed to use the tines to break apart the ice cream before you spoon it into your mouth.”

“And to think I’ve been missing out on these special fork experiences.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.