Setting the umbrella on its side on the ground, Olivia offered Rodney the dog biscuit. “Here you go. That’s a good boy. Now do your thing.”
Rodney chomped happily on the biscuit, swallowed it, and stood looking up at them and wagging his tail.
“Go ahead, Rodney.” Olivia made shooing motions with her hands. “Do your business.”
“I swear to God this is turning into a three-act play.” Wyatt tossed back his hood and crouched down next to the dog. “Want me to show you how it’s done, Rod?”
The dog whined again and licked Wyatt’s hand.
Olivia burst out laughing.
“Well, I’m not gonna demonstrate, because there will be no unzipping of flies out here. It could lead to something else.”
Olivia nearly choked on her laughter, but a hot river of lust sluiced through her at the thought of Wyatt’s potentially unzipped fly. “Honestly.”
“Well, it could.”
“Not likely, considering the rain and the mud factor.”
He rose to his feet and turned to her, his face in shadow. “Then I guess you’ve never done it up against a tree.”
“Uh, no.” Her pulse raced. “Can’t say that I have.”
His voice was low and filled with repressed desire. “I suspect you’ll be able to say that after we go camping together.”
She wanted him so much she could barely breathe. “Promises, promises.”
“Those are the kind I like to make.” He brushed back the hood of her slicker and cradled her head in one large hand. “And keep.” Cupping her damp cheek in his other hand, he settled his mouth firmly over hers.