It was supposed to be romantic. Peaceful. Intimate. Possibly sexy. Instead, Celeste was spooning a tree root. A root.

She groaned, shifting in her sleeping bag and immediately regretting it as her hip caught another jagged lump of earth. Hunter lay a few feet away, flat on his back, snoring lightly under a sky that was far too bright for how little sleep she’d gotten.

Celeste cracked one eye open and glared at the squirrel chittering overhead. “Don’t start,” she warned. “I will ...