After watching him fail at a few more attempts, Ashford sighs and stands up from the log. I watch as his big hand disappears into a pocket on the inside of his jacket then reappears with a lighter a couple of seconds later. He struts over to Cooper and the pile of wood, bending down and lighting it. Cooper stands up with a stunned but appreciative look and nods at him embarrassed. Girls scream out in appreciation, a few of them taking it further than that by whistling and praising him for more than just the fire. He returns to our log and I shoot him a glare.
“You couldn’t have done that in the beginning?” I ask him annoyed.
He shrugs as the corner of his lips tilt up on one side. “I was curious how long he’d try losing his cool. Or how long it would take him to get it lit if he ever did. Then I had to decide if I wanted to use my lighter or my matches. Really tough decisions all around,” he teases, arrogance and amusement playing across his face.