“That was brutal,” he said, doubling over as if she’d punched him in the gut. “If I didn’t think I’d get lost on my way to the car, I would leave you out here.”

“No you wouldn’t,” she said. “That was the last one. I will never bring up that subject again.” She held up her pinky finger. “I swear.”

“I don’t believe you. Get that old stank finger away from me.”

Now she was the one doubling over. Taylor laughed until her sides hurt. The fact that his face remained stoic just made her laugh harder.

“You done?” he asked.

She wiped tears from her eyes. “I am,” she said. She was relieved to see the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“So, what do we do out here in the wilderness?”

“That’s what we’re supposed to figure out, although I’m not sure we’re doing the best job of it. True survivalists wouldn’t have a tent, or a heater, or a backpack full of turkey jerky, protein bars, and wine in a can.”

“You have wine? Crack that shit open.”

Taylor hooked the toe of her hiking boot under the strap of her backpack and dragged it closer. She unzipped it and pulled out two cans of cabernet and a bag of pistachios.

“This is only a trial run, so it’s not as if we have to do everything the people who sign up for the experience will do. I just wanted to get a feel for the area.”

“I think you wanted to get me out here in the wild so you could have your way with me,” Jamar said.

“Your jokes are still corny, but you are getting better at flirting,” she said. “As for the survivalist workout, I think the three-mile hike, along with having to put together a shelter—with materials that I’ll bring in ahead of time, of course—and foraging for food will be enough. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

“There you go again with that twisted idea of fun. Your family must love when it’s your turn to come up with the holiday activities.”

“Yeah, as if they would ever allow me to do that,” Taylor said with a snort.

The amusement faded from his expression. “Why wouldn’t they?”

She shrugged. “They just wouldn’t. I’m kind of the black sheep, so when it comes to family fun, I’m usually not consulted.”

“What did you do? Try to force them to eat kale too?”

“Ha,” she deadpanned. “You’re still not funny.”

“Come on. You have to give me credit for that one.”

“Nope.”

“Well, at least tell me why you’re the black sheep of the family.”

“You don’t deserve the story.”