“River? Are you okay?” Bree’s voice calling from the house couldn’t have come at a worse time. “Easton, I know Krav Maga.”

Easton dropped his forehead to the barn wood above her head. “Everyone knows Krav Maga.”

“Bree’s actually good at it,” River said into his chest. When he pulled back, her hair gleamed like burning embers in the low light from the house windows. Never had Easton wanted to thread his fingers through something more.

“River?” Bree called again.

Stepping back to give her space, Easton sighed when River yelled back. “Bree, you have to see this.”

Abandoning him for Bree, River dragged her over to the barn. A couple of startled curses later, Bree let out an ooh of sheer pleasure. She stuck her head out the door, mirroring the mischief on River’s face.

“Easton,” Bree breathed. “You have to let us film this.”

• • •

In the end, the answer stayed a no, and Easton’s hands stayed to himself. It was probably better that way, especially considering how important it was they would be able to work with each other on the climb.

Bree and River played rock, paper, scissors for the couch after it had been determined no one was killing anyone or filming anything in the barn. They were still rechallenging each other when he went to bed, feeling guilty that one of the two women was going to end up sleeping in a nonreclining chair, and both were subjected to Jessie’s crescendo of nasal noises.

“Deviated septums don’t make friends, buddy,” Easton muttered to himself, listening to the other man’s snores.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Knowing she was sleeping in his living room made it hard to rest, and Easton’s brain kept rolling over the plans he had made. The supply list, the weather reports, the best places to take them to film, and the planned ascent. Details that were always important loomed larger in his mind.

Normally, Easton had a maximum of an afternoon of interaction with his clients before a climb. He’d never almost kissed one by his barn or had her crashed out on his couch.

An early riser, Easton maybe got an hour or two at most of rest before his eyes opened of their own accord. His house guests were dead to the world, never stirring even when Easton ate his breakfast and made a couple of calls. And when Ash’s Jeep pulled into the drive, he met her on the porch.

Sharper than the rest of them on her worst day, Ash immediately recognized the SUV in the drive.

“You brought them here?” she asked, stepping through the front door.

Following her inside, Easton shrugged. “I suffered a momentary lack of clarity.”

“I’ll say.” Ash snorted. “What if they try to murder you in your sleep? I don’t trust the actress. She looks like she’s one good sneeze away from a mental break.”