She’d apologized—without actually admitting any wrongdoing—and he’d forgiven her. She was on a vacation of sorts. She hadn’t had a true day off since last Christmas, and she felt giddy about spending it with—whoa. He took his T-shirt off and used it to fan the fire. Holy cow, Dan shirtless was about a thousand times better than Dan clothed—and he was pretty damn fine with his shirt on. She must have whistled, because his head popped up and he shot her a grin that walked a fine line between snarky and sultry. Was she really doing this? Running away for the weekend with a white man—an Armstrong, no less? It was one thing to get swept away while dancing at a bar—but this? This was a certain kind of crazy. Rationally, she knew she shouldn’t trust him. But rational had nothing to do with anything anymore. For a second, she felt horrible that she’d missed out on this last week. She rubbed the small Band-Aid on her forehead. Nope. Not thinking about it. She had too much else to think about right now—like Dan hauling a bucket of water up from the creek for the horses.
