I have no idea what kind of fun we’re going to have in a gated, woodsy area, but for some reason I trust Jackson. I don’t know if it’s because of his time in the service or the fact that he owns a security company, but I don’t believe he’d put me in harm’s way. I take a deep breath and smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Do you mind clueing me in to what this fun is?”

Jackson grabs my hand as we walk through the gate. What I see stops me dead in my tracks and I drop his hand absently. He’s got to be kidding me! Through the clearing is a large four-story building. Long ropes stretch from the top of it to a huge pole across about a hundred feet of open air, with only a shabby-looking net under them. Off to the right are four tree trunks on their side with about a foot of space between the ground and the trenches dug beneath them. Farther down are large metal cylinders that you either climb through or over. What the hell is this place? As I continue to look around, there’s more—ropes, walls, even a moat! Oh hell no! I’m in jeans—cute, expensive, skintight jeans—and a pretty pink top. He’s insane. I look over to where he was standing, but he’s moved about ten steps away. He’s leaning casually against the gate, and judging from the look on his face, he’s getting quite a kick out of my reaction.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask him with a half laugh.

“What?” he replies innocently, a sarcastic grin plastered to his face. “You said you were stronger than I thought. I figured maybe you’d wanna put your money where your mouth is, Ms. Pope.”

“I never said I was training to become a soldier!” I huff.

Jackson walks toward me and stops about a foot away. He has one brow raised and his voice is playful. “Sailor,” he reminds me. “Hmmm, maybe you’re too …”—he taps a finger on his chin—“scared?” he taunts.

My jaw falls slack as I stare wide-eyed at his comment. I’m way too competitive to let that comment slide and somehow he knows it. Yet again he’s found a way to bend me to his will. Who the hell does he think he is? Screw that! “I am not scared! I will own this course, Muffin.” I glare and then soften as an idea enters my head. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, I bend and touch my toes, providing a little seduction of my own. I glide back up and c**k my head to the side, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes. “I hope you’re ready to have your ass handed to you.” I’m about to embarrass myself, but I will not let him beat me.

Jackson takes a small step forward. His cheeks raise and the crinkles by his eyes grow more defined. His eyes are sparkling and his voice is smooth. “Then by all means.” He waves his hand toward the course. “I can’t wait to have my ass handled by you.”

“Handed! I said handed!” I throw my hand over my face. I fell right into this trap and now I’m going to look like an ass. If I’m going to lose, I will go down with dignity.

“Same difference.” He laughs. “You should know this isn’t my first time here. I also never lose, so if you want to back out, now’s your chance,” Jackson says, completely relaxed. He starts stretching, laughing at me as I glare at him.

“Nope,” I say confidently. No way am I going to back out now. I’m in this—balls to the walls. I mentally roll my eyes at my false bravado. I’m so screwed.

I look over and realize I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do. Is there a safety harness or padding I can wear? Shit! I clear my throat and Jackson looks back with a knowing grin. “Ummm, how does this work? Do I start here or what?”

He walks me through the course, explaining whether to go under, over, through, or up. I keep shaking my head and huffing, each time earning a laugh or some other entertained reaction from Jackson. I sure hope he’s enjoying himself because I’m freaking the hell out.

We end back at the starting point and he places his hands on my shoulders, brushing his thumbs across my collarbone, sending chills through my body. His finger glides up my neck, just barely touching my skin. Without permission, my head tilts into his touch, naturally gravitating toward him like a magnet. His eyes swim with emotion as I try to decipher what he’s feeling. Jackson shifts forward and puts his lips to my forehead. My lids shut as I absorb the moment of intimacy. Inch by inch he backs away and I stare at him with questions floating in my head. One side of his mouth lifts and his low voice cracks through my daze. “Time starts now.”

“What?”

“Clock is ticking. You’re wasting precious time that you’re going to need if you plan to …” He looks pensive as he rolls his eyes up and taps his foot. “What was it? Oh I know, handle my ass.” He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Remember, I never lose.” He swats my ass and laughs.

I take off and start running, half surprised, half frustrated that his plan to get me flustered and then start the timer worked. Stupid boy and his stupid plan. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. The only thing keeping me moving is my need to win and the chance to watch Jackson run this damn course after me. I climb over the logs and then crawl through the metal tube. As I approach the huge building, I swallow nervously. Seriously? I have to climb this? Panting my way up the stairs, I make a mental note that the gym is now a daily requirement. It feels like someone’s sitting on my lungs. I continue to climb but stop when I notice Jackson standing at the top, smiling. Asshat!

As I move toward the ropes, he steps forward and puts his hands on my waist. I don’t have time for his stupid touch-Catherine-and-she-gets-flustered game—I have a challenge to win, dammit. “Place your hands on the rope,” his deep voice commands. “Now swing your legs up and grab it with your feet.”

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open. He’s joking, right? There is no way I’m sliding down this rope. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll just slide down the net.”

His loud guffaw reverberates in the woods around us. “Fine. Then I’ll add two minutes on to your time.” He shrugs as he returns to his spot against the wall.

“Yeah, that whole endearing thing is total bullshit. They lied.” I narrow my eyes and then grab the rope, swinging my body forward but missing with my feet on my first try. I cast a quick glance at Jackson, who’s trying to hide his smile. Bastard. I bite my lip and try again, managing to get my leg around the rope this time. I hold on for dear life and lean my head back, smirking at Jackson with an I-told-you-so look. Okay, now what?

As if hearing my mental question, Jackson walks toward the rope. I’m hanging upside down with my head still tilted backward, giving him a perfect view of my br**sts. Though he seems to be trying to keep his eyes on mine, he’s failing miserably as he glances more than once. A low grumble sounds from his chest and he closes his eyes. His voice is strained when he looks back at me. “Okay. Now, slide down the rope and keep your feet locked. If you fall, you lose.”

I groan, slowly starting to move down the rope. There are times I truly wonder what the hell is wrong with me and why I’m being punished. I look back at him when he grabs the rope and pulls himself up. It jumps and I clench my legs tighter, letting out a high-pitched scream. “Jackson!”

“What?” he asks innocently.