Dawn light filters through the tent walls, creating a leafy pattern of shadows from nearby trees. A frigid wind buffets the nylon fabric, and I shiver. I roll into the warmth of Gunner’s body.

Even though he’s worked his upper body out of the sleeping bag, his skin radiates heat. Morning stubble in a color a shade darker than his hair stands out along his jawline. A tiny scar sits perched at the top of one eyebrow. I examine the way his eyelashes curl at the ends. I’ve never noticed it before. But now I have the luxury of seeing every detail of his face up close and unhurried. He’s all man, but those lashes should belong to me.

His breathing quickens and his eyes move beneath his eyelids.

“Need you,” he chants several times, as if he’s trying to convince the person in his dream. His pained tone sends daggers straight to my heart.

I squeeze Gunner’s bicep and gently shake him. “Hey.”

He shrugs it off. “What? What is it?”

His gaze darts from the ceiling of the tent to the far corners, but never looking straight at me. His breathing comes in little shallow gulps.

“It’s me. Kiley.” I need to make the shadows leave his eyes.

He meets my gaze as I lean close to his chest. After several seconds, he licks his lips and gives me a tremulous smile. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah. You were talking in your sleep.”

“Bad dream.” He stares up at the top of the tent.

I resist the urge to hug him. He’s not a child in need of soothing. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says too quickly.

I place my hand on his chest in a comforting way. “It must’ve been a doozie.”

“Yeah. Well,” he rakes his free hand over his hair. “I’m not used to sleeping with someone. That must be it. Sleeping with you.”

“Are you saying I give you nightmares?” I tease him.

He doesn’t laugh as I expect him to. “It’s not a big deal.” He exhales and looks away. “Drop it.”

His words grate, gruff and final.

I want to make him feel better. What makes a guy like Gunner afraid? I don’t want to act as though he’s hurt my feelings, but he has.

“Sure,” I say, my voice tight and my smile tighter.

“Wait.” He closes his eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

I shrug. “It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” His lids flutter open and his gaze softens. “You don’t deserve a shitty attitude.”

“I forgive you.”

He slings his free arm across and surprises me with a quick hug. His arms feel warm and his body hard. His hand trails over my back and drops casually lower. “Good,” he says.

“I was in your face, I understand. But honestly, there’s not much choice in this sleeping bag. You’re very close.” I lick my bottom lip. “And…um…your hand is on my ass, Gunner.”

He keeps a straight face. “Yeah. I know.”

“Is there a reason why you’re not moving it?”

“Yep.”

I wiggle away, which is only a couple of inches. He sighs. “I needed comfort and your ass was providing it.”

“Gunner!” I widen my eyes, but I’m grinning at his change in mood, his playfulness, and if I’m being honest—the feel of his body and roving hand.

Bad, bad Matchmaker. He is so off-limits he should have yellow caution tape strapped across him.

“Can a man not flirt with a pretty girl when she spent the night with him? I did that cuddling thing and we didn’t even have sex.”

“Cuddling is not necessarily paired with sex. It’s not wine and cheese. And I didn’t realize I would be this cold. That’s my excuse.” I lose the inch of space between us on that note and allow my arms to curl up flush with the side of his chest.

“OK. I was cold, too. Still am.” We’re practically nose-to-nose.

I cover my mouth and smile beneath my hand. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”

“Don’t even think about moving. I like you exactly where you are.” His eyes crinkle at the corners. His chest expands as he draws in air. He looks away and then back. “You know this show is stupid.”

“It isn’t.”

“Is. If we weren’t on this show, I’d make you want to stay with me all day in this tent. Brushing your teeth would be the last thing on your mind. And then we’d cuddle.”

“Dream on. And keep in mind that I am your Matchmaker and we are on this show. Sex would be highly inappropriate.” One corner of my mouth quirks.

“Do you remember that majorette skirt you wore on game days our sophomore year?” he whispers as if he’s said something really dirty.

“Yeah. I froze my butt off during the winter. Why?” I’m grinning now. I’m so wrong for encouraging him.

“Do you still have it? Please tell me you do.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I was about a hundred pounds then. So, no. I don’t. I couldn’t fit one leg into it. Remember, I’m the one who had three hot dogs for dinner.”

His lips purse. “Maybe we could find you one in a bigger size.”

I poke him in the gut, underneath the covers. His firm abs don’t budge. But it’s not the hard planes of his body that get to me. It’s the liquid heat in his eyes while he stares at my face as if I’m something he worships.

Desire shoots in tiny sparks through my body.

He blinks and gets an odd look on his face. There’s no question he’s made a mental shift. The playful Gunner is gone. I study him, trying to figure what’s changed.

“You know I could get rid of all of my dates, like I did with Addison,” he says in a low, husky tone.

I frown at him for more than one reason. I hate that he’s said something so appealing. Where are my morals? My integrity? “Gunner. You signed a contract with a clause that you go on the dates without interruption to filming. They’ll probably keep this weekend’s film. I don’t know. But you’re going to be in jeopardy of breach of contract.”

He winks. “I bet they keep the footage. The audience will love this sort of thing. It’s damned funny. But I’m not trying to make you look bad.”

I scoot back a couple of inches.

“I have a great idea,” he says, his voice all melted caramel and dripping with temptation.

“I don’t like the way this conversation is going.”

“I can pretend to go on the dates so you’ll look good, and no one would know if we…”

He doesn’t have to fill in the blanks. My mouth drops. “Are you propositioning me and asking me to lie to the American audience?”

“I’m tempting you.”

“You’re being a jerk.”

“I’m a jerk because I’m telling you what I want? You’re a liar if you deny you feel this thing between us. You’ve felt it since we were in school.”

I toss the sleeping bag from me and scramble to my feet. “So, you think we should have a fling. Just like that.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fling.”

With my hands on my hips, I glare down at him. “I don’t sleep around. Do you think I’m a whore?”

His mouth drops open. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he should be saying, ‘No.’

My eyes widen and my heart accelerates. A giant burning coal of pissed-off sits in my chest. “And as for what happened in the kitchen. You and I weren’t on this show yet. I was hurt and you were nice and I…”

“You’re accusing me of saying things I didn’t. You caught me off guard. I’d never think of you that way. You’re getting defensive. And it’s not like I met you yesterday. We have history…” He sits up in the sleeping bag with a bewildered look on his face.

“Listen up. I don’t know if you think I was going to be some easy lay for you, but think again.” My throat tightens and tears gather in my eyes, so I look away and blink.

He rubs a hand over the top of his head. “Sorry. I thought you felt the same way about me. About this,” he says and motions between us.

I have been tempted every moment I spend alone with him. I almost hate him for the way he makes me feel—helpless to fight the pull.

He reaches out to put a hand on my bare foot, as if he’s trying to bridge the emotional distance with this one touch. “You know I’m not planning on falling down on one knee at the end of the show for some girl I barely know. I’m going to win the prize. And I’m more into you than I’ll be into any of the ones you fix me up with. I tried to tell you. I’m not the dating, engaging, or marrying kind.”

His words douse me in cold reality. Show or no show, we are incompatible. “Wow. I thought you were one of the good guys. Do you honestly think I’d want to sleep with you after that speech? You’ve confirmed you only want to sleep with me. Nothing more.”

He stares at me without answering. Finally, he exhales loudly. “I could lie to you, make a lot of promises I can’t keep, but I won’t.”

I search around for my shoes, bending over to flip up a soggy sleeping bag on the opposite side of the tent. “Don’t say another word to me. You’re making it worse. I hope I find someone to melt that icy heart of yours.”

“Kiley. I’m being honest with you because I respect you.”

I hold up my hand in the universal sign for stop. My hiking boots are soggy and tight as I slip my feet into them. Sunshine streams into the tent as I unzip and open the flap with shaky fingers.

He scrambles to his feet and takes a step forward. “You need to admit we’ve always had this chemistry. I’ve always liked you a lot. Admit you want me as much as I want you.”

Like? I can hardly believe I ever harbored feelings for this guy. “I’m calling Tony to see where he is and I’m out of here. I’ll be arranging your next date for tomorrow night, so be ready. And Gunner? You are a dick.”

I toss my hair out of my face and stomp through the opening of the tent, leaving a trail of watery footsteps behind me.