Lead Him Not Into Temptation (Redemption Book 2) (10 page)

Jen

By the time I make it out of the camper, the dishes have all been cleaned up and Casen is sitting on the back of his truck with the dog. I don’t remember his name; Goliath fits him just fine for me. I managed to put myself together, with what I’m assuming are the best pieces in the Mary-Kate and Ashley collection. I’m impressed he remembered the small items like deodorant and a toothbrush. The average male would have forgotten such things and then insisted I use my finger with a little toothpaste and his Axe Body Spray to freshen up.

I want to hate Casen. I want to not want him, but when he does things for me which no other man has ever even thought to do, it makes it damn difficult. I might actually choke on the words, but he is a decent guy. Mix that with the tattoos and toned body, tousled hair and flippin’ steel-grey eyes, and I may have to weld myself a chastity belt to keep myself under control around him.

He looks no less tasty when he looks up from the mammoth sitting next to him and sails a panty-melting smile to me. No freaking fair. How does a woman even begin to maintain herself when a guy does that? I could take up residence in his adorable dimples when his hair sweeps across his brow, forcing him to run a hand through it to push it back. I have to direct my attention to something, anything else, but him.

“That thing is huge, it’s going to dent your truck,” I say as I adjust my ponytail. There was a shower, so I took full advantage of the camper’s bathroom facilities. I’m glad he was already dressed for the day because I used every ounce of hot water.

I look up again at Casen and he begins to chuckle. “You know, I’ve received several compliments over the years about my size, but never has someone suggested he would dent metal. I’m not sure what to say other than thank you.”

“Oh my God, you are such an adolescent. I was talking about your dog, but I’m glad to know you pride yourself on the size of your genitalia to such an extreme.” I roll my eyes and begin to walk toward the truck.

“What man doesn’t value his junk, sweetheart?” he laughs. “I knew you were talking about Henri, I just like watching you squirm,” he adds, hopping off the tailgate and moving around to the passenger door.

“Yeah right, whatever you say.”

Casen opens the door allowing the dog to jump in and then holds it open for me. “Climb in, Jen. We need to get moving if we want to have dinner tonight.”

I slide in onto the smooth leather of the bucket seat and push the horse over a bit to give myself a little more room, as it apparently has some kind of drooling condition.

“Are we going to a grocery store for food or something?” I ask once Casen is behind the wheel.

“Nope, we have to catch our dinner. We’re going to Skagway Reservoir to go fishing,” he answers, turning the key in the ignition, revving the engine to life.

“Um, you did hear me say I’ve never been camping, right? If you are depending on my fishing capability for survival, then be prepared to starve. That is, unless you want to eat your dog.”

Casen pats the dog’s head. Damn, I need to pay attention and remember his stupid dog’s name. “Henri is the laziest, snuggliest dog on the planet. I don’t think he would be very tasty.”

Henri, Henri, Henri. Must. Remember. Dog’s. Name. Is. Henri.

“You’ll be fine, Jen. Between the two of us, we’ll catch enough fish, and if not, we can always eat the hotdogs and marshmallows I have stockpiled in the camper.”

“Surely there is something more valuable we can do with our day than spending it drowning worms. I’m good with hotdogs and marshmallows for tonight,” I say as convincingly as possible. Casen rolls his eyes, almost ignoring my attempt to wiggle out of this fishing excursion.

Realizing this is happening whether I like it or not, I focus my attention on the scenery around us as we climb the mountain toward the reservoir. Things are blooming and it appears to be warming up, but looks are definitely deceiving. Even in this oversized sweatshirt, which by the way screams tourist due to its large printed lettering, which has ‘I did 9,500 ft. at Cripple Creek’ splayed across the front, I have frozen my ass off all morning. Surprisingly, the rest of the ensemble Casen picked out fits well, even the tennis shoes.

There are constant winding curves leading us to our destination. As I notice Henri encroaching on my area and the amount of drool multiplies, I become increasingly concerned with his potential motion sickness and the well-being of the limited clothing I currently possess.

“Um, is your dog going to get sick?” I ask, lifting Henri’s head from my lap and moving closer to the door and away from possible disaster. Casen looks him over for a second and pats his head again.

“Nope, he’s good. I think he just likes you and wants to give you a little love.” He turns his attention back to the road and places both hands on the steering wheel.

I examine Henri further, not yet convinced my Walmart jeans aren’t about to get sprayed with munched up kibble. I run my hand across his neck and pat his side. I have no idea what I’m looking for, but I’m hoping for some blaring sign to duck for cover, since the slobber is his apparent regular behavior. He takes this as a sign to “love” further, moving onto my lap and licking me. Now I’m concerned for my own puking status as well as my ability to breathe. “Oh sweet baby Jesus, make him not like me, make him not like me!” I squeeze out through strained breaths as I attempt to push his massive body off mine.

“Hendrix, come here,” Casen bites through laughter. “Leave her alone.” The horse whimpers but doesn’t budge. Casen pulls the truck over and grabs his collar to pull him off me. A rush of air expands my lungs and I begin to gain feeling in my legs again. However, my ribs may never recover.

“Holy fucking shit,” I pant, wiping the string of drool off my clothes. “Animals like him belong in the zoo or circus or something, he nearly killed me. I saw the white light and everything.” Casen meets my agitation with even more laughter, so I turn my wrath at the elephant dog, Hendrix.

“You,” I say, pointing my finger at him. “This is my space; you stay in your space. Unless you want to be our dinner alternative, keep your paws and drool out of my space.”

Casen only laughs harder at my mini-overreaction to my near death experience, giving Henri the pass to bark and then lick me again across the cheek. I might have to hire someone, but this dog will possibly meet his untimely demise.

“Jen, Henri has travelled this road about a million times and he has never gotten sick. Really, he just likes you and is trying to snuggle on you. If you started to turn blue or appear as though you had internal bleeding, I would have intervened. His small bit of slobber will not kill you, I swear.”

“‘Small bit’? I have enough drool pooled on my jeans to alleviate the drought in all of southeast Colorado.”

He laughs even harder, grabbing at his side. “Stop, no more. I can’t breathe.”

“Well, I’m glad. Karma is a bitch, and she always repays her debts. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at someone who is in obvious distress.” I cross my arms across my chest, showing my disapproval for his lack of compassion for my unpleasant situation.

A horn honks behind us. With the narrowness of the dirt road, there is nowhere to safely pass anyone. Casen politely waves to the car behind us and puts the truck back into drive to continue on to the lake.

“You need to lighten up, Jen. If you think drool is bad, you have about ten minutes to get over it before you experience a whole new realm of ickiness. Smelly water, worms along with other various bait, and ultimately fish guts await you. So, suck it up and give in to the fact you will get dirty, wet, and smelly today. I promise you will survive it all, and maybe even have a little fun, too.”

“Fine,” I sigh, directing my attention back to my outdoor surroundings. It isn’t long before we reach the final bend, which opens to the massive lake. The sight of the glistening water is breathtaking, and this time Hendrix has nothing to do with it. It seems so peaceful, with rows of trees, which surround the water. There is no large parking lot or beach, no expansive boat dock with lines of people waiting to launch their watercrafts. There are very few people in general; it feels like a private lake. A place to call our own, an escape from all the shit, which awaits me back home. I now understand the appeal.

“Wow,” I exhale.

“I told ya,” he responds with a sly smile as he parks and jumps out to gather the fishing gear from the bed of the truck. Of course, Henri stays behind, waiting on me to get out as well. It appears I won’t be getting rid of my new furry friend anytime soon.

“Come on, Hulk, let’s go get our fishin’ on,” I tell Henri and open the passenger door to step out. I exit and Henri follows right behind me. The grass is tall and reaches high up on my pant legs, the moisture leaving wet streaks on the fabric. The air is cool, but not cold enough to complain about; I’m actually comfortable and can’t think of a single thing to complain about.

“The grass is somewhat high and it’s getting warm; make sure you watch for snakes,” Casen yells out as he heads toward the shore.

The only thing that registers is the word snake, and without thinking of following any instructions concerning them, I take off running as fast as I can toward Casen. I may come off as a tough girl, but snakes are my ultimate weakness. I can’t even see those things on TV without having to change the channel. To say they give me the heebie-jeebies is putting it lightly. I refuse to even buy snakeskin boots or a purse despite their fashionable appeal. In my opinion, those creatures were put on Earth to serve only one purpose, to scare the shit out of me. May they all be bludgeoned with shovels.

Casen turns around to witness my desperate melee of wild banshee running and screaming; Henri follows behind barking loudly to match my shrieks. I see Casen’s mouth moving and a stern look form on his face, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the noises I’m making. As soon as I reach him, I jump into his arms and climb his body until I can wrap my legs around his waist.

“Save me, the snakes are going to eat me!” I plead.

“Shush, you’re scaring the fish,” he commands, gripping onto me. “Now, did you see a snake?” he asks, allowing me to remain wrapped around him.

“Well, um, no,” I say after a long pause. I’m enjoying the comfort and strength of his arms which shield me from my embarrassment which will no doubt ensue once my feet hit the ground. “I heard snake and went running. You can’t say things like that and not expect a woman to react drastically.”

“Good to know,” he laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future; no snakes allowed. I’m glad you’re safe.”

We continue to tangle around each other, ignoring Hendrix, who is circling impatiently around us. I’m not the type of girl who needs protection and affection from a man. Usually if I need something, I take it from them, but things feel different with Casen. His arms feel safe, he feels safe. It’s a strange, overwhelming feeling for me. I don’t let men in, but I’m sensing neither of us wants to let go.

“I’m not sure we’ll catch any fish, sparky, but do you want to try anyways?” he whispers in my ear. His breath is warm on my neck and sends shivers down my body. His questions feel like more than a simple inquiry about fishing. Maybe I want him to be asking me more than about fishing. I want to be strong enough to answer both, but I don’t know if I am. I’ve never needed a knight in shining armor, I’ve never wanted one. Casen, though, makes me want something I’ve never had…a relationship, prince and all. Instead of telling him all this, I choose the coward’s path and merely nod into his neck.

Slowly, he finally releases me, allowing my body to slide down his. I notice every one of his taut muscles on my way down, and I enjoy the sensation it delivers to my system. This man is doing wicked things to me, and I don’t know if I can resist the temptation much longer. He has been dangling himself in front of me since the night in the parking lot of the brewery, but has resisted any of my reciprocated flirtations. He insists it would make the tour uncomfortable and unprofessional if we dove into any kind of relationship, even if it was purely physical. I’m sure he’s right, but damn he makes it hard. Even after the tour is over, I’m not sure I can let myself explore those options. Besides the physical attraction I know we share, I’m afraid of the things he would do to my heart if I let him in…a heart I have never allowed anyone to even come close to.

“Come on, sparkplug, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into,” he says as he guides my feet to the ground. He grabs the fishing poles and tackle box he dropped when I mauled him and turns to find the perfect fishing spot, leaving me awestruck once again.

It’s not until I register Hendrix gnawing on my sweatshirt, pulling me in the direction of Casen that I snap out of my daydream. “Stop it, Gigantor,” I tell him, lightly swatting at him and pushing him away from chewing on my shirt. “You know, I think we would get along better if you didn’t like me so much. The feeling isn’t exactly mutual,” I add.

I quickly catch up to Casen and reach him just as he begins to impale a worm with the hook on the end of his fishing line. “That is so fucking disgusting, I thought we were using bait,” I say as he casts the line out into the lake.

“This is bait, Jen. I brought lots of different kinds; I just thought we would start with worms.” He turns his attention to me, no doubt noticing the repulsed look on my face. “Oh, come on. It’s not that bad. Just wait until you gut the fish we catch, then I’ll let you complain.” He chuckles to himself and wedges the pole between some rocks before picking up the other pole to hand to me. “Here, let’s get your pole situated and then we can relax a little.”

Gathering my courage, I pick up the small, plastic container of the slimy little creatures, but immediately my stomach twists and turns at the sight of them weaving around each other. They continue their attempt to burrow into their artificial environment; it’s like they sense any second I’ll select one of them to sacrifice to the fishing gods. Unfortunately, none jump out to offer themselves as tribute so I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and shove my hand into the container. I want to wuss out. I want to throw the container of worms in the dirt and tell Casen to go fuck himself. I can feel his eyes on me, and I know he’s silently daring me to do just that. I refuse to lose this game.