Cisco tried not to laugh when the kid did everything short of flexing his arm muscles to showcase his still-skinny, adolescent physique.

Damn. Had Cisco ever been that shameless?

Probably.

He cut the dude some slack. “Thanks, Vishon. I’d love your help. I’m healing from a gunshot wound, and the doc says I’m not supposed to do any heavy lifting for a week or so.”

Sooo…posturing?

Yup.

But, top that, he internally dared the kid, full-well knowing it was an asshole move to be playing the “hurt warrior” card, but dick-measuring was clearly something the young guy understood, because he backed off on his bravado, knowing he couldn’t beat being capped by a bullet.

“Right. Anything you need, then,” Vishon gave in.

Glancing at Hilly, Cisco saw that none of the exchange had gotten by her, and her lips quivered with stifled laughter while she attempted to maintain her professionalism.

She coughed. “I’ll just leave you two to it, then,” she managed. “I’ll be herding the campers around to their assigned, afternoon physical challenges, which means your twenty-five victims should be headed this way, soon, Cisco.”

“Excellent,” he replied.

He hoped she’d end up watching his class, but since he wasn’t going to be an active participant today and couldn’t show off, she wouldn’t miss much.

Almost an entire hour later, Cisco was deep into it with his group—some campers, some counselors—when Hilly finally made an appearance.

Cisco grinned, anxious to have her see what her kids had learned.

“Kelli? Tori? Why don’t you two let Ms. Duncan see some of your moves.”

The two young girls who currently wore the padded suits that were lighter and smaller than Cisco’s, had been doing an admirable job of following directions, and he gave them their next instruction.

“Let’s go with heel palm-strikes, and groin-kicks.”

The pair went at it with relish, causing Hilly to gasp.

“Won’t they hurt each other?” she asked, sidling up to him.

He tried to ignore her fresh, vanilla-like scent as he answered her question.

“Nah. That’s what the suits are for, and they both know to pull their punches. We’ve already covered eyeball-jabs and nose-crunches without actually making contact.”

She nodded, satisfied, saying for his ears only, “They look good. Confident. Which is what we want.” She raised her voice. “Nice job girls. But now it’s time to wind things down. We’re five minutes away from finishing up our sports portion of the afternoon, and when you’re done, if you could head into the dining hall, that’s where we all are, next.”

“Drama classes?” Cisco questioned with an eyeroll, knowing that’s what was listed on everyone’s agenda.

Hilly beamed at him. “Yes. Followed by⁠—”

“Swim time,” Cisco provided, and he couldn’t keep his next query inside. “Do you join the kids in the water?”

Now that was something Cisco would really like to see. Hilly in a bathing suit. His imagination was pretty good, but he’d love to have a real look at her anatomy.

“Sometimes,” she shrugged. “But not today. What about you?”

Had her eyes just dropped to his chest? Was she thinking his muscles were something she wanted to see, or was she simply concerned about his boo-boo?

Cisco gave a regretful shoulder shrug. “I’ll have to pass until I lose my bandaging. I’ve already had my fight with dressings for the day, putting on a new one after I got out of the shower this morning.”

Of course, if she offered to help him…

She didn’t respond, but he hoped that by talking about his shower he’d given her a nice visual.

With the speed with which she turned away, he thought he might have succeeded.

“See you inside.” She waved over her shoulder and disappeared quickly.

Cisco held in his chuckle.

“Great job today, people,” Cisco praised his class. They’d all paid strict attention, except for the two female counselors who had spent most of his session whispering and giggling. He could do without that shit, but this was camp, not school, and if the pair wanted to slack off, who was he to bitch? They’d get out of their lessons exactly what they put in.

Ignoring the two, and after helping to divest his current, younger combatants of their protective gear, he then tagged a few of the larger kids to help bring the mats back to the equipment box where they were stored. It took a little longer with the little ones than with teenage Mr. Muscle from before, but eventually everything was tucked away, including the RedMan suits which he would also need for his early evening class.

Herding his students toward the dining hall, he wasn’t looking forward to drama class. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told Hilly he wasn’t an acting kind of guy.

But for her?

He’d wing it.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Hilly was having a great time. After explaining to the kids that each cabin-group would be writing, performing, and directing their own short play—which would then compete for the title of best production of the summer—she’d watched, amused, as each of the teams attempted to recruit, first her, then Cisco, then…Nel?

Hilly had opted out, saying she was too busy supervising to utilize her rusty acting chops, but Cisco—much to Hilly’s delight—promised to do a brief cameo in each one of their plays, just to be fair.

Nel, wasn’t having any of it. As soon as the campers and counselors had started talking about what costumes would look cute on the dog, Hilly’s companion had gone low, and slunk out the door.

Hilly laughed at the stealthy exit. “That answers that. I guess if you write an animal into your script, a human will have to take the roll.”

As the kids all giggled, then began chattering excitedly amongst themselves, Hilly turned to Cisco.

“I don’t think you’ll be needed here for a while. Would you, by any chance, like to help me set up a big, inflatable water slide on the pond? It’s the one thing Papa-J and I didn’t have time to get to, and…” she hoped she wasn’t staring at his muscly forearms. “…I figure you won’t have any problem helping me wrestle it out of the barn, even with your chest-wound.”

“Of course I’ll help,” Cisco told her without hesitation, and the gleam in his eyes told her he hadn’t missed her perusal of his stellar antebrachium.

She’d expected both things; the offer of help, and him catching her appreciating his flexing tendons. So damned observant.

What chance did she have, keeping herself safe from falling for him? So far the man had exceeded all her expectations. He was smart, helpful, and responded to every situation with one-hundred percent enthusiasm. He’d also continually defied any negative category in which she’d attempted to place him.