So fucking sweet. I can’t stop watching her. I don’t know what I’m enjoying more, being out here with her in the sun and gorgeous weather, or every honest reaction she’s giving me.
After nearly stumbling over a rock sticking out of the dirt, she digs it up, cursing the entire time, and tosses it into the woods with a strangled yell. When a bee flies too close to her face, she gasps and then flips the thing off, threatening to find its hive and burn it to the ground.
I’m waiting for her to break and beg me to take us back. To tell me she’s had enough and that she hates this and me for dragging her out here.
She stops abruptly on the path and I ready myself for her dismissal.
This is it. She’s gone three hours with no complaints or sour tone. But instead of turning on me and threatening my life if I don’t get us out of here, she gathers her hair off her neck and applies another thin coating of bug spray to her exposed limbs.
This is her eighth application.
“I’m starting to get hungry. Do we have any food?” she asks, bending over and spraying the front of her legs.
I groan when the bottom of her arse peeks out from those tiny fucking jean shorts she’s wearing. Again.
This is the eighth time I’ve gotten hard on this trail.
“See something you like?”
Her voice is tempting, sweet and wily. She’s caught me every time we’ve done this.
I scratch my jaw as I resume looking at her, never peeling my eyes away, smiling when she molds her hand to the back of her jeans. “I more than like it, gorgeous,” I say, giving her a quick glance. “If I didn’t give a shit about other men seeing you out here I’d pull those shorts down and bury my face in that.”
“In my ass?” she giggles, spinning around and tucking the small tube of bug spray into her pocket. She wipes her hands down the front of her shorts. “That’s a win/win for me. You can eat that and I’ll eat all the actual food.”
Laughing, I reach out and grab her face, kissing her soft mouth. “You hungry?”
“Starving.”
I step back and pull my bag around to the front of me, tipping my chin at a large boulder.
It’s flat and smooth, wide enough to hold several people.
“Want to sit up there and eat? Seems like a nice spot.”
Brooke looks at the path between us and the rock I’m asking her to get to, her brows pinching together and her mouth pulling into a frown.
Her anxiety slips on like a veil.
I follow her gaze. It’s not a far distance, but the overgrown grass is thick with weeds and wildflowers, some of it reaching up as high as her knees. We’ve stayed on clear paths up until this point, nothing unkempt like this.
I know how much I’m asking of Brooke. Bull-headed determination or not. She might just tell me to go fuck off for even suggesting this. I don’t really care where we eat. I’ll sit on the dirt right here, but I’m curious to see how far she’ll go to prove her persistence today.
Another first, little devil? Will you give me this?
I step closer and squeeze her hand. “It’ll be a nice view up there. We might be able to see the lake.”
She slowly turns her head. Her eyes, more green than brown today, narrow in on mine. “Yeah? You know what else has a nice view of the lake? Our campsite. Maybe even the car. Why don’t we go check?”
“I can carry you,” I offer, attempting not to smile at her quick-witted apprehension. “I wouldn’t mind it.”
“You are not carrying me,” she scoffs, yanking out of my grip. “I’m capable of getting there myself. And you know what?”
“What?”
She leans in, standing on her toes to get closer, her hands curling around her hips, her face so near to mine I can see the freckles she’s hiding underneath her makeup. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Mason, because contrary to what you think, I fucking love it out here.”
Brooke lets out a tiny squeak, spins around, and sprints through the tall grass like something is chasing her.
My mouth stretches into a grin.
Fuck, baby. Look at you. Always surprising me.
She makes it to the boulder and, with frantic hands, tries to claw her way on top of it, but her footing slips on the smooth rock. “No! Goddamn it, no!”
Laughing, I follow behind and reach the boulder just as she slips again. Even with a running start, she’s too short to get up here alone. I toss my bag on top of the rock to free up my hands.
“Here, my little nature lover,” I say against her hair, grabbing her waist and hoisting her up onto the rock.
She thanks me through a breathy pant and shifts over to make room.
I climb up with ease and sit on the warm stone. Reaching for my bag, I watch Brooke scoot to the ledge and look out over the tree-line.