Jensen.”
“What?” Jensen hissed. At her side Clint chuckled under his breath.
Turning her head, she glared at him. “This isn’t going to work.”
“Oh, I think it’s going to work just fine.”
“We’ll see,” she fired his own words back at him.
When everyone else rose and began to move around the room, Jensen took advantage of the opportunity, jumping from her seat to intercept Joseph. “Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“Could I request a different teammate. Any of the others would do.”
“Something wrong with Clint?” Joseph asked patiently, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Uh, no,” Jensen muttered with a sigh. “I just don’t think we mesh.”
“Why don’t you give him a chance? One of the lessons we endeavor to teach in this session is how to cope under difficult circumstances.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “If things become too tense between you two, then come see me.”
Great. “All right. Thanks.” For nothing.
Returning to her seat next to Clint, she exhaled loudly.
“He wouldn’t switch you to another partner?”
His calm on-spot question just frustrated Jensen further. “No. Maybe if you asked?”
“Why would I want to do that? I’m perfectly content with you.”
“Why? Because you know I’m not content?”
“Oh, just give me a chance. I know I can satisfy you,” he said as he leaned over the table, his arms resting on the smooth surface. “Remember?”
A flash of desire swamped over Jensen, causing her cheeks to turn pink. God, yes. She remembered. “Stop it.”
“Stop what? Turning you on?” He punctuated the question with a wicked smirk. When she just rolled her eyes at him, he chuckled. “How did you find out about this training?”
“I’m friends with Libby McCoy. She told me about it.”
Narrowing his eyes, he pointed his finger at Jensen. “The day of the tornado, you’d been to see Libby at Highlands.”
“Yes. I was taking her home after a meeting.”
Clint nodded with a knowing smile. “So, she told you about this group. I bet she told you I’d be here, didn’t she? That’s why you signed up.”
“No.” Jensen disagreed. “That’s not what happened at all.” She pointed her finger at him. “Libby told you I’d be here, that’s why you signed up.”
He opened his mouth in mock shock. “Don’t try to turn this around on me. You’re the one who keeps tracking me down. I bet you ran off the road and into that fence on purpose, just because you figured I’d be close behind.”
“Oh, yea. I arranged for that tornado to come along at just the right moment to lure you to my side.”
“Ha. Probably.” He knew he was teasing her unmercifully, but he couldn’t help it. There was something about the way she was acting that gave him hope she might not be as unhappy to see him as one might think. For him, the banter was a way to keep the lines of communication open. Yes, there was the great possibility she would just shut him down again. He guessed he was a glutton for punishment because that was a risk he was personally willing to take.
“Not in this lifetime,” she hissed, refusing to give into the need to fan herself. Despite her better judgement, Jensen felt warm and excited. Several seconds passed while she stared into Clint Wilder’s eyes. His sparkling sexy eyes. “Believe me, I’d rather associate with any random skunk who came along rather than you.”
“Oh, yea?” He knew he was taking his life in his own hands, but he just couldn’t resist it. “I think you’re just pretending to dislike me. Actually, my instincts tell me that you dream about me every night. You probably touch your…”
“Hush!” As her heart rate spiked off the charts, Jensen gave him a look that would freeze lava. As a person who’d always suffered from a mild case of hypotension, she had to acknowledge the man was probably good for her low blood pressure. “Look, let’s just agree to stay out of one another’s way. Can we do that?”
Clint refused to let the faint glimmer of hope he harbored die on the vine. “Might be easier said than done. This is supposed to be a team effort after all.”
“Don’t remind me. At least you won’t be unsupervised.” Jensen felt her emotions going haywire. She needed to calm down and not let his presence send her spiraling out of control.
Clasping a hand to his chest in fake distress, Clint whispered playfully, “Ah, you wound me, Jensen.”
“I’d like to wound you,” she grumbled as Bowie came to the podium.
“All right, folks. Our first task is to become proficient