Erin Lowell was exasperated. "Where did you learn such twisted logic?"
"I'm self-taught."
He wasn't ashamed—in fact, he seemed proud of it.
Erin Lowell decided to humor him and stopped pushing back.
Only then did Zane Jennings settle down.
The medical tent wasn't far from the dining area, just a short walk away. But the country path was slick with rain and dew, making it difficult to navigate. The two of them huddled under a single umbrella, walking at an extremely slow pace.
He was very tall, about eight inches taller than her, and had to bend over slightly, deliberately holding the umbrella handle low for her.
They were pressed close together. When a gust of wind blew past, she caught his scent. It was unusually free of the smell of smoke—just the simple fragrance of laundry detergent.
His hand holding the umbrella was steady, but his expression was a mixture of embarrassment and stiffness.
