“I don’t hike without supplies, ever. There are bears in these woods, it’s getting dark, and the ground is slippery. Things can go wrong.”

“The bears are hibernating, and you’ve got a SEAL with you.”

She cocked her head. “You’re a SEAL?”

Her question startled him. “Yes. I thought you figured that out when I was in your office.”

He hit the button to unlock the back of the SUV so she could grab her pack. Arguing would only waste more precious minutes. She grabbed the pack, then pulled gloves from a side pocket.

He hadn’t realized she was cold, but then, he wasn’t exactly focused on her comfort. After donning the gloves, she settled her pack on her hips, adjusting the straps with practiced ease. There was a grace and competence to her movements that he found all too appealing.

But then, that had been the problem from the start. He’d been utterly charmed from the moment she’d interrupted his conversation with Jae. He remembered the first words he’d ever heard her say: “Jae, my dearest, bestest friend, I will name my firstborn child after you if you have a room and will let me use your shower.”

Her reservation had been inadvertently canceled. Exhausted and grubby after a day in the field, she’d hoped to shower before sleeping in her car.

Jae didn’t have a room, as he returned to his home in Port Angeles that night. Luckily, Xavier had a room and shower, which he’d been happy to let Audrey use. What happened after that had been unexpected…and incredible.

“I never considered you might be a SEAL,” she said. “I was too busy stewing over the fact that you’d lied when you said you worked in security. You never mentioned the Navy. That seemed like a big omission. Especially considering I asked about your job.”

There wasn’t much he could say to that. He’d lied, plain and simple. He wasn’t proud of it, and she had every right to be angry.

She set out for the trail. He grabbed her arm. “I lead.”

“This is my park. I think I can handle this.”

“This is America’s park and I’m a Navy CW5—Chief Warrant Officer 5. During this op, it’s my job to protect this park and people in it. Your job is to dig up old garbage.” He probably shouldn’t have said the last part in such a condescending tone—he knew what her job meant to her, how seriously she took her role in protecting cultural resources. But she’d never understand how in this instance, national security trumped old bones and tools.

That had been the underlying truth that had gotten them here in the first place.