Page 17 of Last Light

I’m holding it ready when Travis reappears.

He shakes his head. “Nothin’ there. I think a branch just broke and fell.”

I relax and bend over to put my gun back down.

When I straighten up, Travis is staring at me. His eyes focus on my face and then travel down. His shoulders stiffen. His cheeks flush slightly. He takes a weird little breath as his gaze makes another quick detour down my body.

Then he jerks and scowls at me. “Damn it, woman. Cover up. You might as well be buck naked, standin’ there wet like that.”

I reach down for a towel and scowl back at him. “You don’t have to be mean about it. We heard that sound, so I thought the gun was more important than my modesty.”

He’s scowling more dramatically than I’ve ever seen him as he turns his back to me. “Tell me when you’re decent.”

I sigh as I dry myself off. The thought of putting on my dirty clothes over my nice clean body makes me want to gag. “I’m going to wrap up in a towel for a while until my tank and underwear are dry.”

He grumbles wordlessly. Then after a minute, he asks, “You covered up?”

I tuck the end of the towel to secure it around my chest. “Yes. I’m covered. Jesus, Travis. It’s like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

He gives me a dirty look as he turns around to face me, but he doesn’t say anything.

I’d prefer it if he just argued with me. At least then we could have a real conversation instead of one person grunting at the other person’s attempts to communicate like a human being.

I give up on the infuriating man and sit in front of the fire to comb my hair. It takes a long time since my hair is long and thick and I haven’t combed out the braids in three days.

Travis walks over to get a towel from the cargo compartment.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“I’m gonna wash up since you told me I stink.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean. I was stinking too.”

The only answer is another wordless grumble.

“Here,” I say, turning in his direction with the small piece of soap in my hand. “You can use—” I gulp because Travis is halfway through taking off his shirt.

My eyes land unerringly on the broad expanse of man-chest offered to my view.

It’s a very fine chest. And his abs are flat and lightly defined. He’s got a scattering of blondish chest hair that I really like the looks of, and a thin white scar runs from his right armpit down toward his belly button.

I process all that in the few seconds it takes for him to pull his shirt off over his head.

“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks burning. Which is ridiculous. Nothing has happened except he took off his shirt. “I was just giving you the soap if you want it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” He takes the soap and waits until I turn around before he does anything else.

I sit on a rock near the fire with my back to him as I finish combing my hair. I hear him moving around. The rustling of clothing. The splashing of water.

I wonder if he kept his underwear on the way I did. Probably.

I wonder what kind of underwear he wears.

I really want to turn my head and catch a quick glance.

But that would be rude. And inappropriate.

He didn’t peek at me, so I can’t peek at him either.

---