When she emerged from her tent, Domino bounced around her legs like a black-and-white tennis ball. Apparently he shared his master’s love of camping out in wilderness areas and was excited to have her present for the fun. Erin guessed it would be enjoyable during the daytime. The lake was beautiful, and the weather was glorious, sunny but not too hot. She wasn’t looking forward to the nights, however. Sleeping on a mountaintop populated by bears, coyotes, and cougars when she had only nylon walls to protect her didn’t sound fun.

Wyatt had built a fire ring and gathered wood. He was hunkered down by the circle of rocks to build a fire, and since Erin figured she might have to do that herself before this week and a half was over, she watched everything he did. While growing up, she’d never gone camping.

Erin crouched across the flickering flames from Wyatt and immediately felt bowled over by how he looked—a quintessential cowboy out on the open range. Broad shoulders, well-muscled chest and arms, a narrow waist, and long legs that stretched the denim of his jeans tightly over his thighs. Even his long, straight hair screamed, Film set. She almost sighed with a rush of longing, but she squelched it, not because Wyatt could hear her feminine emissions of body-pulsing need, but because she’d promised him and herself that she would never allow her feelings to compromise their friendship.

He glanced up. “Are you hungry? We can eat right away or enjoy this incredible vista over a couple of before-dinner drinks.”

Erin had seen Wyatt drink at Vickie and Slade’s wedding reception and later over dinner with her at the Cauldron, but otherwise he seemed to be a teetotaler. “I didn’t think you drank very much.”

“I don’t. But I always indulge at night in a wilderness camp. It helps me unwind after a long day and loosens up all my muscles.”

Erin could think of another activity that might loosen him up, and she was disgusted with herself for letting her thoughts drift in that direction. Again. It was going to be a very long nine days. It didn’t help that she knew now that he had deep feelings for her. She rested her hand on Domino’s head to fondle his silky ears. “I’m up for a drink or two. Maybe it’ll help relax my legs. I’m not used to riding.”

“Are you saddle sore?”

“Not yet, and I hope I won’t be. But sometimes abused muscles don’t scream until the next morning.”

He left and went to his tent. When he returned, he held two red Solo cups, a half gallon of Jameson, and a can of Coke. “The pop is for you. I prefer my whiskey straight.” He squatted beside her, unloaded everything onto the ground, and poured them each a measure of alcohol. “Mixed or straight?”

Erin had taken her hard liquor straight with colleagues so many times that she no longer even got teary-eyed, but the truth was, she preferred whiskey diluted by something sweet. And she didn’t have to be one of the guys with Wyatt. “Mixed, please.”