Ember POV

“What if someone comes?” Ember asked, watching Marksman shuck his t-shirt and reach for his shorts.

“They won’t,” he said.

“But how do you know? I mean, is there a sign-up sheet or something? Did you pre-book it? Is there a timetable? Appointments?”

Marksman stalked towards her. He hadn’t taken off his shorts yet, but they hung low on his hips. She licked her lips. That was a lot of man flesh and even though she’d become intimately acquainted with it, seeing him like this out in the open air like some free-range nudist did things to her she wasn’t exactly prepared for.

She didn’t hate it.

It...