When River made the call, at first she only got hard pushback. They’d found the perfect place to hide on the resort grounds and had set up the tripod. Tearing down now would only cause more work than they’d scheduled time for that day. Bree, carefree as always, was more than willing to adjust plans, but Jessie made his normal fuss. Finally, River managed to lure Jessie in with agreeing to buy everyone dinner afterward but not without a few well-honed barbs on his end about River’s pain in the ass new boyfriend.

“Well, that was unpleasant.” She hung up the phone, joining Easton at the pile of gear they’d pulled from her vehicle and spread on the ground.

“I could hear him from all the way over here.” Easton picked up one of their tents. “That guy’s got a pair of lungs on him.”

“And I was accused of being dramatic. Speaking of, you have the face.”

“What face?”

“The face you had when I asked you to agree to be filmed. What’s wrong?”

He lifted up the lightweight tent in one hand. “This is a single-walled tent.”

Easton frowned at the matching tents in her crew’s equipment piles. She didn’t know why. Of all their gear, the brand-new tents were the best part.

“Yeah, we got a great price on them too. I haggled.”

“Successfully?”

“Oh definitely. They never saw us coming. I haggled them down and then hit them with a group coupon. Not only was the price fabulous, they’re four-season tents and weigh under two pounds.” River mimicked an explosion with her hand, then wriggled her fingertips at Easton. “Boom.”

He smacked an open palm down on the tent fabric. “I hate to break it to you, but a single-walled tent up there is going to turn into a condensation factory. The moisture will coat the inside of your tent, refreeze, and fall on your head. You don’t want to sleep in that; it’ll be a nightmare.”

“They were the best tents that didn’t require a small mortgage to buy,” River countered.

Easton shook his head. “You want to cut corners, do it somewhere else. Not in your gear, and not on a climb like this.”

“I could always pay you less and get the better tents.” The option had appeal, but Easton only stared at her. She stared back. His eyes narrowed. Hers narrowed a lot more. The beard took on a stubborn set, bristling out. River didn’t have a beard, so she pushed out her chin and pretended.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding concerned.

“Intimidating you.”

“Are you sure that’s what you’re doing?”

“Definitely.”

Unlike most, he didn’t even flinch under her stare. The man was immovable, and the sparkle in his eyes only grew the farther she lifted her chin.

“I’m not letting my clients turn into Popsicles. Get better tents,” he told her.