I cleaned and cooked the fish while Katja sat back and read a book.

She’d offered to help, but since our sides were dried fruit, jerky, and sun chips, there wasn’t much for her to do. Besides, I wanted her to sit back, relax, and enjoy our time at the park.

I wanted her to like it so much that she wanted to stay in Indiana and come back here someday.

It was nice, being up here with someone who didn’t feel like they needed to fill the air with chatter all the time. Some of the people I brought on these trips never shut up long enough to enjoy the peace a night in the woods could bring.

That was just another thing I found I liked about her.

The list kept getting longer. Her sweet disposition, love of fitness and the outdoors, and ability to enjoy her surroundings were also on that list.

But at the top of it? That kiss.

Damn.

I’d almost lost control. Almost pulled aside her bathing suit bottoms and thrust inside.

I’d wanted to, so badly, but the idiots on the boat had saved us both by behaving like immature jackasses.

It was really for the best.

Although, as much as I tried to keep things platonic and focus on us getting to know each other, our libidos obviously had different ideas. I was drawn to her in a way I’d never been drawn to anyone.

It was almost as if the kiss was going to happen whether we wanted it to our not.

Like it was fate, or kismet, or whatever the word was for the kind of pull you had no control over.

Which just meant I needed to be aware, and more cautious from now on.

I was in control of myself, dammit, and could keep my hands to myself as I got to know Katja as a person.

Our relationship couldn’t be based on sex, or our physical attraction, it needed to be about so much more. We needed to build trust, have a game plan, and stick to it. We needed our union to be about Sloane and her happiness.

Not mine.

“I hope you’re hungry,” I called as I got out the paper plates and other items.

“Starving, actually,” Katja replied with a smile as she closed her book. “Must be all the fresh air.”

“That’ll do it,” I agreed, then made her a plate with the fish and sides, handing it to her before I made my own.

“This looks fantastic, thanks,” she said, then waited for me to sit down.

We ate in relative silence, letting the sounds of nature fill the void while we consumed the fish, which, if I do say so myself, was pretty damn delicious. I’d caught four, figuring we’d both be hungry since we hadn’t had much to eat of real substance since breakfast.

And, I guess I was spot on, because within twenty minutes, all of the fish was gone, along with the chips, fruit and jerky.

Luckily, we still had some trail mix to snack on if we got hungry later on, and for breakfast, I’d put together my famous oatmeal packets. I’d originally thought it up when I brought Sloane out on her first overnight, thinking she needed more than a granola bar to sustain her.

All I did was toss oatmeal, chopped pecans, dried cranberries, and vanilla sugar into a zip lock, then I’d boil some water then stir it all together in my camping mug, topped with my travel sized almond butter and sometimes banana and put it on top. It was a pretty hearty breakfast that was not only tasty, but would give us the energy to hike back to the jeep in the morning.

Sloane loved it. I was hoping Katja would, too.

This need I seemed to have to keep her well-fed and taken care of was new, and more than I expected to feel for someone who was still a relative stranger.

“Thanks again, that was great,” Katja said, pulling me from my thoughts. “I insist on cleaning up, you’ve already done so much… why don’t you relax for a while?”

I nodded in agreement and thanked her when she took my plate.

I wandered off to find some privacy and use the restroom, then went to the beach to clean up a bit before heading back to the camp site. Everything was put away, except the marshmallows, which I noticed Katja had taken out and laid in my chair.

I guess that was her hint that she wanted to roast some.

It was dark, the sky was lit up with stars, and the crickets were sounding off as Katja read her book, a small smile playing on her lips. She looked beautiful in the firelight, and I once again fought the urge to go to her.

“I’m guessing you’re ready for dessert,” I said with a laugh as I picked up the bag of marshmallows.

“Yes, I love roasted marshmallows,” Katja replied. “I could be stuffed full and never say no to that burnt deliciousness.”

I searched the ground until I found a couple of sticks, held them into the fire to sterilize, then handed her one.

“Here you go,” I said as I opened the bag and held them out for her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking three and putting them all on her stick.

“So, you go for the burn, huh?”

“Yup,” Katja replied as she placed her stick in the flame. “I like them burnt to a crisp, how about you?”

“Same.”

“See, I knew I liked you,” she said, and all I could think was, yeah, I really like you, too.