Duke hated being late for anything. And this time, his tardiness had inconvenienced the park ranger, Alex. He flexed his stiff fingers that had pinned his phone to his ear for the last fifteen minutes and almost searched for the nefarious device. Thankfully, he recalled using his curveball throw to smash it against a massive oak towering over the parking lot.

He had been benched. Permanently.

Too old for the team, his coach said.

He needed to make way for fresher, newer talent, his agent said.

He gritted his teeth, trying to contain the fury stiffening his muscles and irritating his ever-present ulcer. Neither of them had said it to his face, choosing to act like cowards and tell him over the phone as if his years of loyalty to the club had meant nothing. How many offers from other clubs had he turned down? What a fool he was!

And his teammates waited for him, hoping to enjoy a wilderness retreat. He grimaced and caught Alex tossing him a worried glance before he jerked the SUV to a halt.

Watching the park ranger join the group, Duke hesitated, choosing to linger for a second, to gather his sadness and anger under control. He clambered out and jogged to where his team gathered, summoning his signature smile.

Only to pause.

A curvy blonde bounced around his friends, her glowing smiles and steady chatter not distracting from her deep brown eyes. Her joy, in contrast with his negative emotions, grated on his last nerve, and he raised his pleading gaze to the sky. Great, this day couldn't get any better, could it?

Her tousled hair was the same color as Alex's, declaring their relation, and the way he hugged her confirmed it. Her lush lips and porcelain skin had no place here. Vanilla, pine, and mint assailed his senses when she tugged on his backpack's buckles and cords. Lust stirred in his jeans, as if he hadn't sampled the goods at Jase's birthday party last night.

Duke shook his head. He didn't need this shit, not when his life was falling apart. Sure, he had heard of the Chibougate Tours and had chosen a hike to evaluate the investment opportunities. He just hadn't realized how a new life was on the horizon, forced upon him regardless of his opinion.

Mike was being his usual asshat self, doubting the woman could lead them. And of course, like the youngest child he was, he whined to her boss ... or should Duke say, father? He liked that Chibougate Tours was family-owned and operated. Between the irritation that Mike was in general and this intense lust for the energetic blonde, Duke would side with the woman.

His defense of her stained her cheeks a delicate pink. As expected, his charm softened the way for him, and if he chose to, he would have her beneath him soon. His well-earned arrogance was a fact. Despite his advanced age, he was the playboy of the team.

Not today.

Slapping Jase on his backpack, he trailed their guide, focusing on the towering mountain and the winding path climbing toward a roaring river. Anything was better than the sway of her hips and the way her camo pants molded her thighs. She set a steady pace, not once huffing as she paused to describe a green weed, or the Greek names of trees, which to his unskilled eye, looked the same.

Her bright smile and charming chatter accompanied her bobbing pale-blonde curls that formed a halo around her face. Whenever she pointed, her T-shirt would pull tight across her breasts, and when she crouched, the waistband of her pants dipped revealing her boy shorts.

He clutched his sweat-saturated chest, testing the thumping erratic rhythm of his heart. Had she been wearing something a little more sensual, he might have caved and set his sights on her. Boy shorts said much about her. She was practical. Stood to reason when she led men into the wilds of her mountain.

"Did Baxter reach you?" Kensey paused to wipe his forehead on his T-shirt's sleeve. His blond hair was darker than Finley's.

Duke shook his head, trying to remove thoughts of their guide from his mind. He had been fired. That should consume his focus for the foreseeable future.

"Yup, before I broke my phone." Duke shrugged.

"Five minutes. Your filtered water bottles are in the side pouch. Take a moment and rest, but don't forget to let the pine-scented air fill your lungs." Finley's voice traveled far before she huddled with her father. She tilted her head back and laughed, the sound too husky for Duke's fragile state.

He glared at her, then faced John Kensey, the shortstop for the Vikings, and the best pitcher they had beside Duke himself. "I didn't make the list."

"What?!" Kensey's cheeks paled, then flushed. He shuddered then slammed his fist into his palm. "I'll fucking kill Baxter. We're nothing without you."

"I'm old, and my fastball's slowing. The shoulder, y'know." Duke grimaced. His last surgery hadn't returned his pitching to what it had been before he had torn the tendons. Part of him had known he was living on borrowed time, but hope was eternal and often senseless.

Vanilla, pine, and the sweet scent of a perspiring woman warned him they weren't alone.

"Drink, boys. I may look capable, but I sure as shit can't carry you if you faint on me." She pulled their water bottles from their backpacks and shoved them into their hands. Skipping a few yards away, she faced the group. "If you're peckish, there are prepacked bags of trail mix." She raised her gaze to the horizon. "Dinner's at sunset, so not too far away. We'll be camping beside the river and will cross over first thing in the morning. After breakfast, of course." She beamed. "Shall we continue?" With a bounce that jiggled her breasts, she barreled her way up the path.

Jase groaned, and with the help of Mike, pulled himself to his feet. His skin had taken on a greenish hue, perhaps from last night's over-imbibing. Mike, their catcher, fell in behind Ms. Perky, then Jase who slowed the rest of them with his dramatic moans. Duke was the last of their team, ahead of Eli, Finley's father.

The sun had begun to set, and the temperatures cooling with it. The longer they trudged, the louder the river grew until, at last, she called a halt for the day. Around a rock-rimmed fire pit, she helped everyone set up their tents, her excitement and joyful laughter merging with the cacophony of the evening insects.

He hurried to build his tent, not wanting to be in proximity to her and her mind-bending perfume. He used to camp with his dads before they retired to South Africa. Duke paused and arched his back, admiring the eager stars sprinkling the orange and navy blue sky. He would call Dad and Pops with the news.

"Need any help?"

His breath caught, trapping her scent in his lungs, and for a moment, he couldn't form a thought. She didn't wait for his response but leaped around him, hammering pegs into the ground, and unrolling his sleeping bag. He watched her, admiring the angles of her body as she worked.

"Dinner's one of the prepackaged foods at the bottom of your backpack. If you gather your cookstove, we'll have you eating in no time." She hesitated. "Sorry, I never caught your name."

"Duke." He could speak his name! Will miracles never cease to happen.

"Unusual, but who am I to judge." She grinned and left him staring after her. How did she manage to remain so upbeat? Was she on something?

Making his dinner in a cookstove was easier than he had expected. Once he started the little gas stove, warming up his chicken parmigiana was quick.

"I hope you love the meals. My wife prepares them for each hike." Eli circled the camp, ensuring everyone had managed to warm their meals. Finley emerged from behind a tree, zipping up her camo pants and tucking in her T-shirt. Duke frowned. He hadn't noticed her leaving when the silence should have warned him.

He studied his friends, as they dug into their dinners, laughing, and joking. He would miss this. Putting his food jar and spoon down, he stretched out his legs which pinged at their abuse. He wasn't an unfit man, by any stretch of the imagination, but that his body thrummed and burned from the afternoon's exertion proved that different exercises used different muscles.

"What about bears?" Jase was asking, his voice carrying over a sudden lull in the conversation.

"Our bears are part of a research project and have been tagged. We know where they are at all times and plan the hikes to avoid them. After all, this is their land more than it is ours." Finley sat cross-legged on a blanket, running her finger along the inside of her food jar before popping it into her mouth for a good suck.

Duke smothered a groan and crossed his legs, hoping to hide his growing interest.

In the firelight, her skin softened and glowed, and her brown eyes darkened. Her hair turned golden. He stared, unable to drag his eyes away. Since she was talking, he had an excuse, still, he had stronger control than this.

"You have bear spray in your packs for those pesky surprise ambushes." She gathered their food jars and spoons, balancing them in her arms. When she reached Duke, he rose to help her, taking a few from her. His fingers brushed her arm, and energy surged between them, sparking his nerve endings. He stilled, catching his breath and praying she hadn't noticed.

She stared at him, her mouth parted. "You okay?"

"Fine, just received bad news." Why had he mentioned that?

"I'm so sorry." She didn't pry but nudged him with her hip in lieu of an arm squeeze, or worse, a hug. "I traverse the mountain in search of answers. Often, it's the solace it provides that helps." She headed for the river, using the moonlight to navigate.

He released his breath on a whoosh. That had been close. Stumbling after her, he lowered the dirty jars and utensils beside her on the river bank. She crouched and dipped a jar into the turbulent water.

"Can I help?"

She flicked a smile at him, bright in the moonlight. "Use the riverbed's sand as a scourer, then stack the cleaned jars onto each other."

He kneeled beside her, uncaring that the sand saturated his jeans. She didn't speak, letting the insects and river speak for her. A comfortable silence fell between them, and his shoulders slumped with tension easing from his stiff back muscles. The night air was sweet and cool. The moonlight dancing off the pine trees, boulders, tumbling water, and her pale face was too beautiful and as captivating.

Peace consumed him, and he smiled, letting the simple action of washing dishes calm his panicked thoughts. So, he could no longer play the game he loved. What did that matter when he had his health and was rich. He could do anything he wanted. Perhaps he was thinking about it from the wrong perspective. This was a forced retirement and not the end of his life.

"I'll head back if you want to linger here?"

He raised his gaze to hers shrouded in darkness. "Please."

She nodded, gathered the stacked jars and utensils before leaving. He watched her until she reached the camp. What a complicated woman she was. She could have chatted his head off, yet she hadn't. She could've made a move on him, but she hadn't. He frowned. She hadn't shown by look or word she was interested in something horizontal with him.

Mm, her lack of interest, despite the earlier blush, should delight him, but it didn't. The raucous laughter faded, as did the firelight by the time he returned to the camp. En route, he took a piss, washed his hands in the river, and crept back to camp, careful not to trip over her precious green weeds.

Everyone had slipped into their tents, announcing how long he had been gone. Some might be asleep, so he tiptoed toward his own. Walking past a tent with its torch on, the scent of vanilla greeted him, and he peered through the gauzed skylight, just to confirm it was Finley's tent.

He did not expect her to pull off her T-shirt and unclip a delicately feminine bra. He jerked, ready to grant her privacy until she cupped her bare breasts on a husky groan. Bolting for his tent, he dove through the opening and spun onto his ass to zip it shut. He shivered with that energy from earlier shooting across his skin like a thousand fire ants. Adjusting his cock in his too-tight jeans, he yanked off his boots and socks and crawled into his sleeping bag.

Cursed, that's what he was! No job, and now a woman who was both adorable and irritating? No, he wouldn't stand for either. He was man, hear him roar. Smiling, he scoffed at his Tarzan thoughts. One thing at a time, tiger.

And that one thing was Finley.