Impulse Control by Amanda Usen

energy bars had left a lot to be desired, and she’d spent the past mile thinking about what to make for dinner with the supplies they had left. It kept her mind off the steep incline. Every so often, she’d remember what had happened in the tent this morning and her legs would turn to hot, wet noodles. Did they have any noodles? Maybe she could make spaghetti.
    “Yes, it’s easier on the way down. I bet we’ll have a fast descent, but let’s not rush the whole standing-on-top-of-a-mountain part of the trip.” He took her hand and pulled her to a stop. Suddenly, she realized there was no more mountain left to climb. She stared at him in amazement. His entire face was covered by cold weather gear, but somehow she knew he was smiling. Her breath hitched in her throat.
    She’d been moving in her bubble, focusing on each challenge as it presented itself, an icy stretch, low branches, falling snow, and had lost sight of the big picture. She’d climbed an entire mountain. Her knees buckled as the dizzying accomplishment sank in.
    “Steady there.” Russ wrapped an arm around her waist.
    “I’m good.” The air was freezing and thin, but that wasn’t why she gasped for breath. His touch made her want to press closer.
    “You’re awesome—you did it.” He pushed up his glasses and tugged hers from her face. His gaze held hers, and she forgot the mountain, the cold, her tired legs and rumbling belly. All she could think about was kissing him. If you change your mind, I’ll say yes. Had he meant it?
    He stepped back and called to Stan and Dave. “Make sure you get a good picture of our Wild Woman on top of one of the highest peaks in New York State. I want a trophy shot.”
    Unlike yesterday when he’d left her in his snow dust, Donovan had been solicitous all the way up the mountain, moving low-hanging branches out of her way, showing her where and how to step, and carrying her water. She’d forgotten they were filming, and a warm glow had built inside her. It cooled as she realized why he’d been so concerned for her well-being: he wanted to look good on film.
    She dug her phone out of her pocket and thrust it into his gloved hand. This wasn’t his trophy; it was hers. “Would you mind taking my picture?”
    “You bet.” His indulgent tone irritated her. So what if this mountain were child’s play for him? It was a big deal for her, and she wasn’t going to let him ruin the moment. She pulled her gaitor away from her face and forced a smile for the shot.
    “Thank you,” she said as he handed the phone back to her.
    “You’re welcome. I hope every time you look at that picture you remember new skill sets can be learned.” His voice was soft, too low for the microphone to pick up, and his gentle gaze held sympathy.
    Her stomach sank into her snowshoes as another uncomfortable reality hit home. She’d been leaving steam in her wake as she climbed the mountain because she couldn’t stop thinking about kissing him, and he felt sorry for her. Had she actually believed he was attracted to her? Her heart hollowed—she had. Oh God, I’m such an idiot. What guy wouldn’t be aroused by a woman kissing him in his sleep? He hadn’t gotten into bed with her because he wanted to be there. He’d been trying to keep her from freezing to death. Donovan hadn’t wanted to do this show at all—Rich Bergman had called in a favor. Basically, she was another charity project for him, and after what she’d shared with him about her marriage, he probably pitied her. It hadn’t felt like pity this morning, but what did she know? Nothing.
    She pulled her gaitor back over her face and grabbed her shades. “I already told you what you can do with your skill set.”
    His eyes narrowed, and then he nodded, settling his sunglasses into place. She pretended to listen as he pointed out the peaks of other mountains in the range. She drank water, ate another energy bar, and adjusted her layers, but her triumphant