“You have no idea.” The heat in his voice makes me want to clench my thighs together. Only my legs are currently wrapped around Warner’s trim waist, and all my muscles are slowly transitioning into jelly.

“Maybe I want to find out,” I tease him, pressing a light kiss against his neck.

“In the middle of the woods? I never—” He stops mid-sentence and mid-stride, his whole body going tense.

The rapid shift takes away my happy, melty feeling. “What’s wrong?”

Warner doesn’t answer at first, turning his head slowly from side to side, as if searching for something. Then, he starts walking again. “Keep talking.” His voice comes out gruff and only makes me more anxious.

“What should I talk about?” Was it my flirting that upset him? Does he want me to talk about something less suggestive?

“Anything. Just keep talking.”

“Okay.” I rack my brain for any topic, feeling put on the spot. So, I blurt out my first thought. “I want to make you something.”

“What do you want to make me?” he asks.

“That’s the problem. I want to make you something, but I don’t know what. I make a lot of things, but I can’t figure out what the right thing for is you. You’re this sexy biker dude, so it’s not like you’re looking for me to crochet you something.”

“You could crochet me something.” Even though he’s still scanning the dark woods surrounding us, I hear a smile in his voice.

“Really? You’d wear … a scarf?”

“Sure, I would.”

I grin, happiness glowing in my chest. He’d wear a scarf I made him.

“All right then. Do you have a preferred color, or do you trust me to pick for you?”

Warner doesn’t answer. Instead, he stops, loosening his grip on my legs so I slide down his back to stand again. I’m proud that I only wobble a little bit, even as my feet pound with pain.

“Are you okay? Did you pull something in your back?” Despite his claims, I can’t help thinking his rapid change in demeanor came on because of me.

“Do you have your bear spray?” Warner asks.

“Y-yes.” I slide off my backpack, digging around until I find the bottle. “Is there a bear?”

Warner shakes his head. “Not a bear. Mountain lion. Female. Three cubs nearby.”

Any other time, I might ask Warner how he picked up all those details. But my mind gets distracted when he tosses his baseball hat to the side and strips off his shirt.

“Do mountain lions not attack naked people? That can’t be right.” But I have to admit, I only read up on bear safety.