His hands closed on her hips, and he pulled her back to penetrate her more fully. His low rumbling groan sounded as he came.

Her breathing was still fast, her heart pounding as she tried to recover.

His thickly muscled chest was warm against her back, and she could feel the thump of his heart. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “See, no bears. They probably heard your screams and ran.”

She froze. “I…screamed?” She hadn’t. No, she’d have… “You’re teasing me.”

His masculine chuckle sent tingles along her skin. “Mmmhmm. I’ll have to work on you some before I get a good scream out of you.”

Work on her? More than he had? When her pussy clenched around him, he laughed, and slowly pulled out.

As she rolled onto her side, too drained to move, he dealt with the condom and buttoned his jeans.

And, to her delight, he lay down and pulled her on top of him. Her jeans were still around her knees, but somehow it didn’t matter. Not when his arms were around her. She rubbed her cheek against his shirt and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Mmm.” He stroked her hair. “I hadn’t planned for our hike to end this way, but I can’t say that I’m unhappy about it.”

Unhappiness was the farthest thing from her mind.

However, she did remember they’d both said one time only. That one night and no more.

She didn’t care. The sweet contentment of being held, of hearing the slow thump of his heart under her cheek, of inhaling his clean scent washed away any second thoughts.

His hand stopped moving, and she felt his head tilt.

“Time’s up, I guess.” Gently, he rolled her off, rose to his feet, and pulled her up, too. “Better dress, sweetheart. Someone is on the path.”

“What?” Eff-it-all.

Laughing, Gabe dropped to one knee so he could tug up and zip her jeans.

Hastily, she fastened her bra and buttoned her shirt. She could hear people on the path now.

By the time the two men emerged from the forest, she was decently clothed. And felt as if her flushed face probably broadcast, “We just had sex.”

“Folks.” The first man was the hippie who owned the gas station. He had long hair, a patchy short beard, tie-dyed T-shirt, and a peace emblem on a necklace.

“I take it you closed down the mini-mart to come fishing?” Gabe asked.

“Hell, yeah. There’s nothing better than dropping a line on a sunny day.”

The other man was probably about the same age, but looked…rougher. Definitely not a hippie sort of guy.

“Julie, I don’t know if you’ve officially met these two, although you’ve probably served them beer. That’s Tucker.” He pointed to the rough-looking man.

Then the hippie. “And Zappa.”