Chapter 6

Six hours later, Brooke still couldn’t believe what was going on.

She was in Nevada, currently checking into a hotel in Las Vegas because it was the easiest place for them to get reservations on such short notice. As Owen checked them in, she stood beside him, looking around at the massive lobby of the hotel. It was at the end of the Strip, and there wasn’t a casino, and to her it was perfect.

The flight had taken less than four hours, but all of the rushing they’d done to get packed and to the airport on time had left her more than a little exhausted. Physically. Dealing with her family when she’d called to let them know where she was going had been mentally exhausting. Luckily, Uncle Howard had taken the phone from her hands and talked his sister out of her panic attack over her only daughter going off to Vegas for the weekend with a man she’d just met. A small giggle escaped as the reality of that statement hit her.

She was in Vegas.

With Owen.

It didn’t seem real.

Looking over at him, she watched him sign for the room and accept their key cards. This was it. This was happening! He turned to her and smiled, and they walked in relative silence to the bank of elevators. Her mind was going a mile a minute, but she kept her thoughts to herself, unwilling to come off sounding like a babbling idiot.

They had talked the entire time on the plane about how unusual this impulsive behavior was for both of them and how Las Vegas wasn’t someplace either would have chosen to go on a vacation, but then they rationalized how they weren’t going for all of the bells and whistles of the Vegas Strip. It was merely a place to stay on short notice, and most of the time they’d be out at the Grand Canyon. Owen had reached out to his contacts at the Las Vegas Astronomical Society and let them know he was coming in early to tour the area at Red Rock.

And that call had made Brooke’s heart beat a little faster because it meant he wasn’t going to cancel the trip and there was still hope for them to work together. Although she had a feeling that even if she didn’t go on the trip in a professional capacity, she might be able to convince him to let her come along as a friend…or a girlfriend. Just thinking of them on that level had her blushing. They had slept together—basically—but that didn’t mean he was looking to have a serious relationship with her.

Did it?

Either way, he had reached out to the organization and inquired about the best way to go to the canyon that didn’t require sitting on a bus for hours with a hundred other people. His contacts were very accommodating and told him he and Brooke would be able to take a helicopter to tour the area over Red Rock where Owen would be camping with his group. The helicopter would then take the two of them out to the canyon, where they would land and have a couple of hours to explore and take pictures. Brooke didn’t have her paints and canvases with her, but if she had a few hours to explore and take pictures, it would be incredibly helpful for when she got home.

Owen opened the hotel room door, and Brooke walked in, feeling a twinge of nerves. Even though they had spent last night in Owen’s room, the fact that this was their room—together—suddenly seemed huge.

And intimidating.

There was no place to hide. All of her…quirks…were going to be on display, and some of them she had hoped to keep to herself. At least for a while. There was no way she wanted to scare him off quite so soon—not when they were connecting. Swallowing hard, she walked farther into the room and put her bag down. She took a full minute to realize Owen was still standing by the door. She turned and looked at him. “Is everything okay? Do you not like the room?”

Shaking his head, he took a tentative step toward her. “The room is fine. After a while they all start to look the same.”

“Then what’s the matter?” She had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on in his mind—the exact same stuff she was just thinking of. Not everyone was meant to be impulsive, and maybe they should have booked separate rooms or at least a suite.

“I… It seems—”

“It’s weird, right?” she finished for him and smiled when he seemed to completely relax.

“Exactly.” He smiled back at her and finally walked into the room. “I know we talked about it, but now that we’re here, I feel like I’m pressuring you or—”

“Owen,” she quickly interrupted, “I said I was fine with us sharing a room. I know it doesn’t have to…lead to anything. We slept in the same bed last night and survived, right?”

He nodded.

“And if we did it once, we can do it again. Right?”

He nodded again.

Damn. She was almost hoping he’d put up more of a fight—but for which argument, she couldn’t say. There was no doubt that if he asked, she’d strip down and make love with him right then. But if he said he was uncomfortable and wanted to get another room, she’d be on board with that as well. So where did that leave her?

Confused. Utterly and completely confused.

“I wish you’d say something,” she said with a nervous laugh.

Stepping in close, Owen cupped her face in his hands—she liked it when he did that. His gaze was intent as he looked at her. “You never have to worry about anything with me, Brooke,” he said, his words quiet but fierce. “I will never ask anything of you that you aren’t willing to give, and if anything about my being here with you makes you uncomfortable, I’ll leave. Your peace of mind, your happiness, are all that matters. We’re here right now for you. I want to see you paint in nature. I want to watch while you create, and I want to see the joy you get in creating art.” He paused, his gaze scanning her face. “That’s all I want from this weekend.”

How was it possible that this man was still single? How could any woman who had ever met him or spoken to him not see how incredible he was? How selfless and kind? How incredibly handsome and sexy?

Her mouth went dry at the intensity of his gaze, and she licked her lips and watched as those dark eyes zeroed in on that action, and…good Lord she wanted to jump him right then and there. Leaning in a little closer, she was just about to reach up and kiss him when he placed a soft kiss on her forehead and stepped back.

“Why don’t we grab some dinner and maybe do a little sightseeing?” he suggested, but Brooke heard the tremor in his voice. “Thanks to the time difference, it’s still a bit early, and it’s much warmer here than it was back in Chicago, so we can walk around for a while until we find something we want to see. What do you say?”

“I say give me five minutes to freshen up, and let’s go!”

* * *

It was after eleven when they were walking back into the room. They had enjoyed dinner at the hotel and then taken a long walk down the Strip to people watch and check out what all the fuss was about.

Neither was overly impressed. After discussing gambling on their walk, they agreed that it held little to no appeal—not to mention that the smoke in the casinos was a major turnoff—and it was too late for a show. Brooke had been more fascinated by the artistry within the hotels, and Owen had gladly followed her around and listened to her talk about all of it. Hell, he could listen to her talk all night long.

He locked the door and watched as Brooke slipped off her shoes and began taking all of her many bangles from her wrist. Once she was done with them, she took off her hoop earrings. As if forgetting he was there, she stretched and then walked over to the wall of windows and looked out at the scenery for a minute before drawing the drapes.

They were alone, cocooned in this hotel room, and not for the first time, Owen had to wonder what he was supposed to do. Things like this didn’t happen to him. She was the type of girl who used to make fun of him in school—the popular girl, the cheerleader, the beauty queen—and he learned fairly early on to just stay off of their radars. And yet…here she was.

In his room.

Sharing his bed.

It still hadn’t fully sunk in that this was happening. She wasn’t mocking him. This wasn’t a joke, and no one had put her up to it. Brooke was here because she wanted to be here.

In his room.

Sharing his bed.

Yeah, that last one was still the hardest to wrap his brain around.

She turned away from the window, faced him, and smiled shyly. “Are you tired?” she asked, walking toward him.

“A little. It’s been a long day, and we didn’t get much sleep last night either.”

Nodding, she stepped around him and went to grab her suitcase and put it on the luggage rack. “I know. I would have thought I’d be fast asleep by now, but…” She paused and looked at him, her toiletry bag in her hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but…I need the TV on to help me sleep.”

Relief swamped him. He wasn’t sure what she’d been about to say, but for a minute she had looked so serious it had made him nervous. “I’m fine with that. Really.”

“Okay,” she said with a happy sigh. “Thanks.” Then she went into the bathroom to change.

Owen wasn’t sure what to do as it hit him how he hadn’t given much thought to this aspect of the night. Pajamas. He had grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt to sleep in—even though he preferred to sleep in his boxers—but now he had to wonder what Brooke slept in.

He almost prayed it was sweatpants and a T-shirt too. Anything less than that was going to seriously test his self-control. Shaking off the mental images of Brooke in silk and lace, he went to work on sorting through his own suitcase and getting out what he needed. When he had everything ready and Brooke wasn’t yet out of the bathroom, he kicked off his shoes and walked over to turn down the bed.

She still wasn’t out.

Looking around the room, he found the remote, turned on the TV, and began scanning the channels for something to watch. He found the opening monologue for Saturday Night Live and figured he’d leave it on for now; if Brooke had another preference, she could change the channel. He put the remote on the bed and looked toward the bathroom.

She still wasn’t out.

Now he was back to being nervous. Was she okay? Was she avoiding him? Slowly he walked over to the door and raised his hand to knock when the door opened.

And then he forgot how to breathe.

She wasn’t wearing silk and lace, but she wasn’t wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt either. Thin, wispy straps covered slender shoulders and then came down to meet a modest neckline that gave him just a glimpse of what lie beneath. The light-blue cotton matched her eyes, and when he quickly scanned down, he saw the nightie hit her mid-thigh and showed long, tan legs.

Yeah, he was going to need oxygen. Soon.

“Sorry. All those years of beauty regimens on the pageant scene, and I can’t seem to break the habit.” She let out a nervous giggle, seemingly unaware that her appearance was close to giving him a heart attack. “But my pores look great, so I guess it’s all worth it, right?”

Unable to help himself, Owen reached up and ran a finger along her cheek and marveled at its softness. Even without makeup on, she was stunning. He swallowed hard and forced himself to take a step back. “I’ll um…I’ll take my turn in there now,” he stammered. “I turned on the television, but I wasn’t sure what you’d want to watch. Feel free to change the channel.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

They switched places as Owen grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom to change, making a mental note that tomorrow he wouldn’t have to wait—he could change while she was in here doing her—what did she call it?—beauty regimen. Interesting. Either way, he was a lot faster, and five minutes later he stepped out into the room and noted that there was only one small lamp lit and Brooke was already under the blankets and flipping through the channels.

“Can’t find anything you want to watch?” he asked, casually sliding under the blankets beside her.

She shook her head. “Different channels, different programming… I’ll find something eventually. But if you want to go to sleep and the noise is too much, just let me know and I can read. I have my Kindle with me too. It helps me fall asleep when I can’t find something good to watch.”

“It’s not going to be a problem. I grew up sharing a room with two brothers. Trust me, noise doesn’t bother me.”

Brooke put the remote on the nightstand and moved closer to Owen—there was no discussion, no awkwardness—she simply snuggled up beside him as he wrapped an arm around her. With her head resting on his shoulder and her hand over his heart, he felt complete.

“What are we watching?” he asked softly, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

A loud yawn was her first response before she said, “50 First Dates. I love this movie.”

Looking at the TV, Owen vaguely remembered the movie—not that he’d seen it, but he remembered when it was out many years ago. He looked over at the light that was still lit on her side of the bed. “Do you want to turn out the light?”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it later. After the movie.”

He didn’t give it another thought. He drew her closer and settled in to watch the movie.

* * *

Brooke woke up the next morning feeling slightly disoriented. She was wrapped in Owen’s arms, their legs tangled together, and overall, it seemed like a great way to wake up. His body was such a warm and comforting presence around her that it took a minute for everything else to register.

The television was off, and so was the light. And suddenly…she couldn’t breathe. The room was dark, and she had to start telling herself to relax, that everything was fine and there was no reason to panic.

Except she was.

Completely.

Struggling slightly against Owen, she quickly moved out of his arms and rolled over to turn on the light. A quick glance at the clock showed it was almost seven—their alarm was set for eight. She let out a shaky breath as she willed herself to calm down. Owen was still sound asleep, and she was thankful he wasn’t awake to see her panic attack. God, when were they going to end? Five years and she couldn’t overcome the irrational fear of the dark. Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer—a plea—for it to end. To be able to move on. Just like she had countless times before.

It seemed odd how she didn’t remember turning off the light or the television, nor did she remember Owen leaving the bed. When was the last time she had slept so soundly?

The previous night.

In Owen’s arms.

With her heartbeat back to normal, she slid back down, curled up against him, and smiled when he hummed his approval in his sleep. Lifting her head, she studied him. His dark hair was mussed, he had stubble on his strong jaw, and his features were relaxed—more relaxed than she’d ever seen them—and he was just so handsome that she couldn’t immediately look away. He fascinated her—everything about him. His mind, his wit, his humor. But it was his sensitivity that captured her heart. She understood his struggles—better than he would ever know—and yet even as he struggled with his own issues, he always sympathized with hers. And Brooke imagined he was the same with others—taking their feelings and fears into consideration before thinking of his own.

He was an amazing man.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed and moved her leg against his, letting them tangle together once again. He pulled her in closer, and she went willingly, loving the feel of him from head to toe. It almost seemed a shame how they had to be up early, that the alarm would be going off in less than an hour. But still…it seemed like a nice amount of time to just lie in his arms and relax.

Closing her eyes, she moved a little so her head was on his chest and she could listen to his heartbeat. Slow and steady and exactly what she needed to erase her panic of moments ago. Unable to help herself, she kissed him there—on his muscled chest. The man certainly was full of surprises. He might dress like a nerdy professor—khakis and button-down shirts in drab colors—but she was coming to find he had the body of a GQ model.

It was almost enough to make her purr.

And she never purred. At least…she’d never wanted to. Until now.

Even though they had joked about it yesterday, being here like this still seemed a bit surreal. For far too long Brooke did what her family expected of her. She didn’t take risks and didn’t like to cause any worry. It was hard to be responsible all the damn time.

Not to mention it was boring as hell.

And up until she had gone to Chicago to stay with her uncle, she hadn’t been tempted to toss all of the rules and expectations aside. And if anyone would have told her she would be doing just that and doing it with a man like Owen, she would have laughed.

But there was nothing funny about this. Her feelings for him were strong and serious and very real.

So much so that it scared her.

A light kiss on the top of her head told her Owen was waking up. One large hand slowly skimmed up her back and fisted in her hair, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at him. And when she did, all the breath left her. His expression—always so serious—was even more so right then. The intensity of those dark eyes had her tingling from head to toe.

“Hi,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper.

He didn’t answer—just continued to look at her until she wanted to squirm. With his hand fisted in her hair and the heated gaze, there wasn’t a doubt in Brooke’s mind he was fighting what he wanted to do.

What she wanted to do.

So why were they fighting it?

Without breaking eye contact, Brooke slid her leg over his and then moved up so she was straddling him. His other arm banded around her waist and pulled her close until their lips were mere inches apart. His words from yesterday came back to her.

You never have to worry about anything with me, Brooke. I will never ask anything of you that you aren’t willing to give.

She was the one to move the last few inches, her lips brushing his. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, and then she whispered his name again. For a second his grip on her hair tightened.

“You’re sure?” he murmured, his voice a near growl against her lips.

She nodded.

And then they were done talking. Brooke wasn’t sure who moved first, who initiated the kiss. They were of one mind as the kiss went from zero to sixty in less than a second. It was all hot and wet and deep and said everything she couldn’t find the words for.

Owen’s hand roamed down and cupped her bottom and squeezed, the move keeping her completely anchored to him—and oh my, did he feel good. Better than good. Amazing.

And hard. Everywhere.

Sex was something Brooke enjoyed. It was good. But this? This little bit of foreplay? It was hotter than anything she’d ever experienced. She wanted to touch him everywhere and feel his hands on her. Everywhere.

Owen deftly flipped them over so Brooke was now on her back beneath him. Her legs slowly wound around him as he settled over her. His mouth left hers and quickly traveled down to the neckline of her nightie. She wanted to rip the garment off and feel his mouth all over her heated skin.

Her hips lifted as she rubbed against him, silently begging him for more. Rather than acknowledge that movement, he cupped her breast as his mouth moved along all of her exposed skin.

He was killing her.

“Owen,” she panted. “Please.”

Lifting his head, his gaze met hers. “I dreamed of this,” he said, his voice like gravel. “All night. Every night since I met you.”

Oh…

“It’s never been like this. I’ve never felt so…out of control. I’ve been trying to go slow. To be a gentleman…”

Brooke lifted a hand and raked it up into his hair and gripped it gently. “Right now…I don’t want a gentleman.”

His eyes widened for barely a second. “You’re sure?”

She couldn’t help the giggle that came out. “About not wanting a gentleman?” she teased. “Yes. I’m sure.”

The sexy grin he gave her made her feel even achier than she had a minute before.

Her name came out like a plea right before he lowered his head and reclaimed her lips with his. The kiss went on and on, and as much as she wanted more—more stripping, more moving, more…everything—the way Owen kissed was its own brand of foreplay.

Delicious.

Then finally—finally!—his hands started to wander again, this time to the hem of her nightie. His hand slowly made its way under the fabric and rested on her hip, and she almost felt giddy at the touch. Silently she urged him to move, to stroke, to touch her where she so desperately wanted him to. She was so close to tearing her mouth from his and begging when…

Beep…beep…beep…

No. No, no, no, no, no!

Beep…beep…beep…

The sound must have finally registered with Owen because he lifted his head and looked around as if he couldn’t remember where they were. With a muttered curse, he rolled off her and slapped the alarm clock. Then he was on his back beside her and breathing heavily.

As much as she knew she wasn’t an overly emotional person, she wanted to be one right then and pitch a fit. Damn alarm clock. Why did it have to bring everything to a halt? They were awake already, so…why stop? She turned her head to look at him, saw the pained expression on his face, and knew she wasn’t going to push him. Instead, she reached for his hand and slipped her hand against it until he clasped hers.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He nodded.

“We…do we need to start getting ready, or do we…you know…have some time?”

Owen didn’t look at her, but he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “They’re picking us up in an hour. I told Tom Donnelly how important it was for us to get as much time as possible in the canyon for you, and we need to do the flyover of Red Rock first.” He muttered another curse, rolled off the bed, and stalked across the room until he was at the windows before he turned around. “I’m sorry.”

Brooke sat up and looked at him as if he were crazy. “For what?”

Rather than answer, he raked a hand through his hair and turned back to open the drapes.

“Owen?”

“This weekend was supposed to be about you and your painting, and I…” He shook his head again. “I wasn’t thinking clearly this morning.”

She climbed from the bed, walked over, and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his back. “But I was,” she admitted. “I knew exactly what we were doing, and it was what I wanted. You don’t owe me an apology, Owen.”

He turned and looked down at her. “We have two days before we have to be back, and I want you to have all the time you need to explore and take pictures. I feel bad enough that I’m cutting into your time by meeting with the astronomical society at Red Rock.”

“I don’t mind it. I imagine I’ll get some great pictures there too.” She wanted to ask him about his intentions with Red Rock—if he was going to come back and do the trip—but now wasn’t the time. And then the reality hit—they weren’t going to finish what they started. They were going to be responsible and meet the people they needed to meet and be where they were supposed to be.

Dammit.

Seeing the struggle in his eyes, Brooke got up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I’m going to go and take my shower and get ready. I promise not to hog the bathroom so you’ll be able to get in there too. Why don’t you order breakfast so we can eat a little something before we have to go?”

He nodded. “I can do that.”

She smiled. “Thank you.” Stepping away from him, she walked over to her suitcase and pulled out clean clothes and her makeup bag. Placing everything in the bathroom, she heard Owen moving around. Peeking her head out, she called out to him. “I would love some coffee and maybe some fruit and yogurt, please.”

Looking up at her, he smiled and nodded again. “Anything else?”

“Do we need to bring our own lunches for later?”

“I’ll call Tom and find out,” he said, reaching for his phone.

When he started speaking, Brooke ducked into the bathroom and quietly shut the door. And braced herself for the cold shower she was definitely going to need to take.

* * *

“Wait…what?”

“Camping. You should totally take advantage of the mild weather and the clear skies tonight and camp out. I’ve got tents and supplies you can use. You’ll probably want to get your own sleeping bags, but we have everything else you’ll need, including some telescopes. You interested?”

Was he? Owen wasn’t so sure. It wasn’t something he’d even considered for this particular trip. He’d camped out before, but he had no idea if Brooke ever had or if she’d even want to.

“Do you need to know right now, or can you give me a few minutes to talk to Brooke?”

“Let me know when I get there. If you want to do it, we’ll stop at the Walmart and pick up sleeping bags. And just bring something warm to sleep in. It tends to cool down a bit at night.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you in a bit. And, Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Owen. I’ve heard a lot of great stuff about you.”

Great or embarrassing, Owen had to wonder. But he refused to let his mind go there. He had things to do and decisions to make about the night. Fast. “Same here. We’ll see you soon.”

He hung up and paced the room, listening for the shower to turn off so he could talk to Brooke. He picked up the hotel phone and quickly called in their breakfast order. It was a good thing they weren’t ordering anything big because they were already short on time. Room service assured him the order would be delivered in twenty minutes, and that helped him to relax. Walking over to his suitcase, he pulled out his clothes and jerked to a stop when he heard the water turn off and the shower curtain scrape against the rod.

Brooke, naked and wet, instantly popped into his head, and he groaned.

If they camped out tonight, there would be no repeat of this morning or even a continuation of it tonight. However, if they didn’t camp out, they would miss out on an opportunity for her to experience the desert in a way that would benefit her work the most.

Which was why they were here in the first place.

For art, not for sex.

In his semi-aroused state, Owen couldn’t help but wish he could have both.

Possibly at the same time.

The bathroom door opened, and Brooke stepped out—her hair was in a towel, but she was fully dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white T-shirt. Her face was still void of makeup, and she gave him a wide smile.

“I was fast this time, right? I know we don’t have a lot of time, so I wanted to make sure you had plenty of time for your shower.” She fluttered around, putting stuff in her suitcase and pulling out a pair of sneakers. “Is breakfast on its way?”

“It is,” he said distractedly, too engrossed in watching the way she moved—so graceful. “I…um…I spoke to Tom, and he had a suggestion for us.”

Brooke stopped what she was doing and looked at him expectantly.

“We can camp out tonight. At Red Rock. It would be like how we’ll do it for the meteor shower except with just us.” He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

She didn’t seem to have one.

He cleared his throat. “They have a tent, but we’d have to get sleeping bags—I imagine using someone else’s sleeping bag is frowned upon—but we can stop and purchase some on the way out of town this morning.”

Nothing.

“You’d have some time to paint. We could even pick up canvases and paints—probably not the quality you were looking for, but if you were anxious to create something while we were there, you could do it.”

Still nothing.

Now he began to fidget and forced himself to look away and busy himself with going through his suitcase. “Of course, we don’t have to do it. We can go on the helicopter tour today and see the sights, take a ton of pictures, and be done with it. It’s not a big deal. I just thought—”

“Will there be any lights? Like streetlamps?” she asked.

It seemed like an odd question, and he looked at her in confusion. “Um…probably not. There are campfire circles, so we’ll have light from those.” He sighed and figured he’d better give her all of the facts up front, so there wouldn’t be any surprises later on and she could make an informed decision.

“Okay, there are no electrical, water, or sewer hookups. There are public restrooms, but nothing at our site. There are no showers, but there are water faucets for drinking water that are located throughout the campground.” He paused again and noticed her expression hadn’t changed much. “It’s pretty rustic. Basically, we’d be sleeping in a tent in the middle of the campground. What do you think?”

She pulled her cosmetics bag out of her suitcase and faced him again, her expression full of dismay. “I…I have some issues with—”

“Camping?” he finished for her, figuring it made the most logical sense. “I know it’s not for everyone, and I will completely understand if you’re not into it. I was just thinking about you getting the extra time to paint.”

She shook her head, and her shoulders sagged. “Owen…remember last night I told you I need the television on to fall asleep?”

How could he have forgotten? Instantly he dropped the clothes he was holding, stepped forward, and wrapped her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I guess I had forgotten about that. With no electricity, it would be hard for you to fall asleep. I get it.” He placed a small kiss on her temple and stepped back. “We’ll just go ahead as planned.”

“But—”

“I need to get in the shower before we’re out of time. Breakfast should be here any minute. Charge it to the room.” And he scooped his clothes up once again and went to take his shower.

And tried to keep telling himself it was all for the best—staying in the room tonight meant maybe, just maybe, they’d get to finish what they’d started.

* * *

It wasn’t rational, and it was going to require an enormous leap of faith, but Brooke wasn’t feeling particularly rational, and maybe this was the impetus she needed.

While Owen showered, she transferred a few things into the small carry-on bag she’d brought with her on the plane to carry her purse, Kindle, and some essentials to keep by her seat. She eyed Owen’s luggage and thought better of rifling through it for him. He would be able to do it quickly on his own, she was sure.

With nothing left to do, she walked over to the mirror and put on some light makeup and then towel-dried her hair. By that time, Owen was coming out of the bathroom. He looked at her and smiled. Brooke walked over to him and took his hands in hers.

“I want to go camping,” she blurted out.

His eyes went wide. “Really? Are…are you sure? You seemed pretty certain about—”

“I know. I know. But I think this could be the perfect solution to help me stop using the television as a crutch. Plus it’s like you said, this is a perfect opportunity for me to get some extra time to paint. I’d be crazy to pass it up.”

He studied her for a long moment. “We’ll have to pack.”

She motioned to her small bag. “I’ve already taken care of that. At least my stuff. You can put yours in there too. We’ll essentially be roughing it, so there isn’t too much to bring. I’m guessing we’ll get up fairly early and head back here, so we can shower before our flight home tomorrow night. So what do you say? Are we doing this?”

His gaze was serious—as it normally was—but for a minute she thought he was going to say no. With her breath held, she waited.

And then his features softened and he smiled. “Yes. We’re going camping.”

* * *

“So…”

“Yeah…so…”

Tom stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “So the tent is done.” He chuckled.

Owen gave him a lopsided grin. “I would have figured it out eventually.”

Making the okay sign, Tom continued to chuckle. “I’m sure you would have, but I didn’t want to risk you losing daylight before you were done.”

Beside them, Owen heard Brooke laugh softly too.

“So I’m not great with mechanical stuff like this. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Except when you’re camping and need to set a tent up,” Tom teased and then picked his backpack up off the ground. “There’s a Jeep in the parking lot for you if you need it. But I’ll be back in the morning around eight to pick you up and get the tent and supplies. Is there anything else you need?”

Owen looked at Brooke, and they both shook their heads. They had purchased food and supplies earlier in the day, and while Tom had been setting up the tent, Brooke had been setting up her art supplies. There weren’t a lot of campers on-site, and for that Owen was grateful. Their campsite wasn’t far from the restroom, and they had a spectacular view of the park.

“All right,” he said with a smile. “Then you two have a great time, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Owen and Brooke both thanked Tom, and once he was out of sight, Owen turned back toward the tent. Tom had explained it was the perfect tent for watching the night sky, and Owen could see why—it was big enough to sleep three, and it had a mesh roof that was perfect for stargazing. He walked over to their pile of supplies, took out the sleeping bags and pillows, set them up inside, and then went to work on getting the campfire set up as well.

“Let me help you with that,” Brooke said, coming up beside him.

When they were all finished, Brooke pointed to a small box next to the tent. “What’s that?”

Smiling, Owen walked over, picked up the box, and handed it to her. She looked at him curiously, and even after she looked inside, she still didn’t seem to understand what she was looking at.

“It’s a solar-powered battery pack,” he said. “It means we can have a little light in the tent if you need it, and you can probably use your Kindle if you want to—at least for a little while.”

Her response was to carefully put the box on the ground and then fling herself into his arms. And Owen wasn’t complaining. His arms banded around her as he lifted her off her feet.

“You are the sweetest man in the world,” she said against his neck. “Do you even realize that?”

Sweet? Owen had never thought of himself quite like that. He was just trying to be considerate of her needs. Which is what he said to her as he lowered her back to the ground.

Reaching up, Brooke cupped his cheek, and her smile was so full of gratitude that Owen didn’t know how to respond.

“Who takes care of you?” she asked, her voice soft and full of concern.

“What do you mean?”

“You do so much for everyone, making sure people have what they need. Who does that for you?”

“I… No one’s ever asked me that before,” he replied honestly. Other than his family, there had never been anyone who looked out for him, and he never thought about needing anyone to do it.

Brooke was studying him, and the subject was making him uncomfortable, so he did his best to change it.

“I’m going to take the battery out and make sure it’s fully charged. Tom thought it was, but it won’t hurt to let it get some time in the sun. Why don’t you see what you can get done while it’s still light out?” He hoped he wasn’t coming off like a jerk.

That morning they had spent an hour shopping for supplies and another hour touring Red Rock in the helicopter, and then it was easily four hours round-trip to the Grand Canyon, including their time in the canyon. By the time they’d landed at Red Rock, collected the camping supplies and tent, and made their way to the campground and set up, the day was almost over. Looking at his watch, Owen saw it was close to six. They maybe had another hour of decent daylight.

Brooke took a step back and nodded. “Okay. But what are you going to do with yourself?”

He shrugged. “I’ll get the campfire going, and Tom also left me a telescope, so I’m going to see where the best place is to set it up. I’ll be fine.”

With another nod, she turned and walked over to her supplies and went to work. Owen was tempted to watch her but was keenly aware he had things of his own to do. Forcing himself to turn away, he went to work with the small telescope. For a portable, it was remarkably powerful, and soon he was lost in his own world.

The sky was starting to darken sometime later, and it wasn’t until Brooke walked around him murmuring about needing the keys to the Jeep that he stepped away from his viewing through the telescope.

“Are you okay? Do you need to go someplace?”

Her panicked expression took him by surprise, but it vanished quickly as if she caught herself. “Um…I just want to put the paint supplies away. The tent is small enough without trying to cram all the paint and brushes and canvases in there. And besides, the materials don’t smell great.”

This all made sense, but Owen could tell there was something more to it—like she didn’t want him to see what she painted. He could accept that—even understand it. Artists were temperamental that way. So rather than drag this out or question her, he reached into his pocket and took out the keys.

“Would you like me to go with you? It’s a bit of a walk, and it’s getting dark.”

Brooke shook her head even as she was already walking away quickly. “I won’t be long,” she called over her shoulder, and Owen was half expecting her to sprint away.

She didn’t.

She walked.

At a fast pace.

Rather than obsess on that, he moved around their campsite, taking out sandwiches and drinks and setting them up close to the fire. The temperature was going to cool once the sun went down, and though he couldn’t speak for Brooke, he knew he would enjoy eating by the fire and waiting for the stars to come out.

* * *

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” The clipped words matched her pace as she hurried to the Jeep. Honestly, she wouldn’t have minded Owen walking with her, but then he’d see what she was trying to hide.

Another painting of him.

What is wrong with me? she admonished herself. Twice in the past several weeks—and the only times she’d picked up a paintbrush—she’d ended up painting Owen. Today she painted him with the canyon as a backdrop as he looked through the telescope. She stopped, looked at the canvas, and sighed.

She’d captured him perfectly.

Again.

“Ugh…I have to stop doing this!” At the Jeep, she placed her supplies in the trunk, locked it, and quickly headed back toward the campsite. The sun was setting fast, and she wasn’t up for walking alone in the dark. As she walked by the public restroom, she stopped in to use it before going back to their site, and when she got there, she smiled at the scene before her.

Owen had a fire going and had spread a blanket over the nearby bench and set their dinner up on it. All in all it looked very romantic, and if she pushed her unease aside, she could allow herself to enjoy the moment and the effort Owen had put into it.

“It looks like dinner is served,” she said lightly as she walked over and sat down.

His smile was genuine, and Brooke was sorry she’d run off a few minutes before. Maybe he’d be flattered that she’d painted him… It was possible. The problem was that she was trying to wrap her own brain around why this man took her out of every comfort zone she had.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. It was just the two of them and the sounds of nature all around. The campground was relatively empty, and she wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse just yet.

“So are we going to see anything amazing in the sky tonight?” she asked.

“It’s too early in the month for the Lyrids or any shower, but we should be able to spot some of the constellations. It’s a perfect night for stargazing.”

She looked over at the tent. “Tom said this tent was made for that specifically—we’ll literally be sleeping under the stars. Do you think that’s true?”

“Technically, we sleep under the stars every night,” he began logically. “But with this particular tent, we’ll be able to see them as we’re lying down. It’s got a seamless mesh roof, so there isn’t anything to obstruct our view. Although…on a night like tonight, when there isn’t much activity, I’m not sure we’ll see anything impressive, but it’s still going to be a nice view.”

“What if it rains?”

He chuckled. “It’s not in the forecast, and it’s pretty rare to get rain in this part of the country. You know…the desert.”

She hung her head and laughed at herself. “Right. Forgot about that. Sorry.” And then she was embarrassed. At times like this she was extremely aware of the differences in their intellects. He was brilliant, a borderline genius, and she was just…Brooke. Nothing impressive about her at all. Average student. Average artist. Average woman.

“You’re wrong,” he murmured from beside her, his voice huskier than it had been a minute before.

Brooke looked up at him in confusion.

“There’s nothing average about you.”

Crap. Had she said that out loud? “I…I didn’t mean to say that. At least not out loud,” she admitted.

Taking her hand in his, he squeezed. “Why would you even think that about yourself?”

How could she even explain it? “For the most part, I’m okay with who I am. At least…now. I spent a lot of years struggling with it, but that was because my parents had groomed me to be someone I didn’t want to be. I’m finally at a point where I’m comfortable in my own skin, but there’s nothing…remarkable about me.”

“I disagree,” he said fiercely.

“It’s okay. I don’t think everyone has that…that certain something that makes them remarkable. You have a brilliant mind, Owen. That’s remarkable. People want to come and listen to you speak and just…glean something from your wisdom.” She shrugged. “I’m both intimidated by and in awe of that. And then I open my mouth and say something that is just completely…stupid.” She groaned. “And I want to just kick myself.”

“You didn’t say anything stupid…”

She made a face as she looked at him. “Seriously? I just asked about rain in the desert. You don’t think that’s stupid?”

He didn’t laugh or even crack a smile. “No, I don’t.”

“Owen…come on. You’re not going to insult me. I need you to be honest with me, just like you always are.”

“You want honest?” he asked, his voice gruff. He released her hand and cupped her cheek. “I love that you’re not sitting here trying to come up with the kind of conversation that you think I want to have. I love listening to you talk about your art and your painting. And as for your comment about the rain, I think it’s an honest concern considering we’re going to sleep in a tent with a mesh roof. There’s nothing stupid about it. And there is nothing average about you.”

“Owen—”

He didn’t stop there.

“I look at you, and I see an amazing woman—you’re smart and witty. You make everyone around you feel at ease. You have an amazing laugh, and when you smile, it makes me want to smile.” His thumb stroked her cheek as he spoke. “You move with the grace of a dancer, and no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you embrace the moment. You’re passionate and kind and giving.”

Then he moved closer. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

“And you’re someone I feel very honored to know. And someone I want to know better.” He swallowed hard. “And I want you very much.”

Brooke let out a shaky breath. “I want you too. So much it scares me.”

“I told you…you never have to be scared of me, Brooke. Ever.”

“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “You’re…you’re so much more than I expected.”

He rested his forehead against hers and brushed her lips with his. “And you’re everything.”

And then she was lost. Everything in her life seemed to lead her to this moment with this man. It was foolish to deny the attraction or the need for him that was close to consuming her. And she couldn’t think of a more perfect time and place for them than right here and right now.

With a steadying breath, Brooke stood and held out her hand to him. Wordlessly, he took it. It wasn’t smooth or graceful. In fact, it was a little bit awkward. But once they were inside the tent with the door zipped shut, it all changed. She raked a hand up into his thick hair and pulled him down on the padded floor with her. With his weight deliciously on top of her, her arms went around him, and all she could think was… Perfect.

This was them.

This was their moment.

Under a sky full of stars.