Easton wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever seen in the morning. In fact, he was pretty high up on the list of the best. He’d traded the dark T-shirt of yesterday with a white cotton one stretching across his chest, snug on his forearms and loose around his muscled waist. Another pair of worn jeans and those boots that told everyone he met he worked physically for a living.

The man bun was nice and tidy. The beard made her want to run her fingers through it. But they’d only met, and, well…beard stroking seemed like the kind of thing two people did when they were better acquainted. And maybe had candles lit for beard-stroking ambiance.

“Want to join me? There’s room for two.” River patted the rock beside her.

“You make a habit of climbing roadcuts?” he asked her.

“Nope.” She shook her head. “But it was either this or commit unspeakable crimes to my DP.”

“DP?”

“Jessie. Director of photography. He who snores to the point that relatively sane women want to murder him.”

It was hard to see from way up there, but River was fairly certain one corner of the beard twitched. Kicking off his boots and peeling off his socks, Easton glanced at the roadcut above him, then chose his own handhold. She hadn’t expected him to actually join her, invitation or not.

When it came to climbing, River knew her own skills. Still…watching Easton free solo was akin to watching a Kentucky Derby winner walking through a miniature horse pen at a petting zoo.

Easton didn’t climb the rock. He flowed over it.

“Someone’s a stud,” River teased as she watched him climb, popping a peanut in her mouth. “You should charge people to watch you do that.”

Okay, so maybe she was flirting. River couldn’t help it. When his forehead turned all flushed in embarrassment and surprise, he was kind of adorable.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without a pizza box in your hand.”

“Thanks for that.” Could his rumbling voice be any sexier? Easton hoisted himself over the ledge with one hand, where River had needed two.

Settling in next to her required his hip to brush against hers, his torso angled so his broad shoulders didn’t force her into a dangerous sideways tilt. His hand was braced behind her hip, so close, all she had to do was lean a little.

Funny. She’d always liked a man with a handsome face. This man’s face was covered with at least an inch and a half of thick dark-brown beard, so there was no way to know what he looked like beneath it all.

Easton had really pretty eyes though, and when she offered him access to her trail mix bag, he accepted as if they were old friends.

As nice as his eyes were, his voice was even better.