And really…the only thing that’s driven him to actually kiss me is jealousy. So that camping trip with Pat? Totally on.
I’m strategic about things, as well. My apartment’s across town, but I decide to head for the Lodge straight from work on Friday. And I make sure to wear my ‘sexy’ camper clothing. I have a tiny white undershirt that peeks out from under a red flannel shirt that’s been artfully hemmed by the local tailor so it emphasizes my breasts. I let it gape open, naturally. I pair this with a pair of cute, rather brief cargo shorts and some cute hiking boots. My hair’s fixed into two long, curly pigtails over each shoulder, Elly Mae Clampett style, and my red lipstick is out in action. When I’m satisfied that my appearance can’t be improved on, I check my teeth for lipstick stains, pop a mint, and then shoulder my backpack for the saunter across Main Street.
If Cole sees me, he doesn’t come out of his store.
I’m super disappointed. I even walk a little slower, just in case he’s busy with customers. No dice. With a sigh, I give up and head toward the Lodge.
Pine Falls is a cute, touristy sort of place with one main street full of shops that more or less lead up to the Lodge, where all of the winter happenings start. I don’t know more than the bare details about it, except that there are a lot of skiers and dog sled teams and the like. My business isn’t the guys as much as it is the wives left in town who don’t want to be all sporty, though.
The Lodge is just up the hill from the main road, but it takes me forever to hike up there with my backpack. Guess I should have driven. By the time I make it up to the front of the Lodge—the meeting place for Pat’s group—I’m huffing and sweaty, and my oh-so-carefully arranged curls are now sticking to my forehead and neck.
I’m three minutes early, but Pat’s waiting in the main lobby of the Lodge already. He’s wearing a flannel shirt like me, and ours are both open with a similar number of buttons undone for a sexy gape. That’s…weird on a guy. I fight the instinct to button my own shirt a little higher in response.
Pat flashes a grin at me, his teeth toothpaste-commercial white against his tanned face. Actually, he doesn’t look tanned as much as he looks spray-tanned. His hair’s perfectly tousled in the way only good product can manage, and his jeans are tight. The bag he hauls over his shoulder looks brand new, and I’m always a little surprised at Pat’s appearance. Aren’t mountain men supposed to look a bit more…rugged? Pat’s definitely metrosexual. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just odd in a trail guide.
“Addie!”
My smile becomes a little more forced. If I’m honest, I hate the nickname ‘Addie’. Probably because no one ever says my full name…except Cole. Damn it, I’ve still got Cole on my mind.
Pat moves toward me and his arms go out, and I realize he wants to hug me. Okay, weird. I give him an awkward half-hug and pull back quickly. Maybe he’s just super friendly. We’ve been occasionally chatty here and there, but nothing that warrants hugging.
“Or is it Lady?” he says as I pull away.
“Huh?”
“Is it Addie, or Lady?”
Ugh. Seriously? It takes work to keep the smile on my face. “Let’s go with ‘Addie’.” I think I’ll puke if he really starts calling me ‘Lady’.
“How we doing today?” He rubs his hands and looks eager.
“I’m great.” I scan the Lodge for other campers. It’s pretty empty right about now. Off-season, I tell myself. “Looks like I’m early.”
He gives me another dazzling smile, and takes my pack from my shoulder and hefts it onto his.
“Um, I can carry that.” I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be part of the plan of roughing it?
“Nonsense,” he says, and puts a hand on my shoulder to steer me. “And you’re not early. It’s just the two of us tonight.”
I stare at him, planting my feet. “Wait, what?”
“It’s just the two of us tonight,” he says, and either winks or has something in his eye. God, I hope it’s the latter. I’m starting to get a weird feeling about all of this.
“But…I thought this was a group tour.”
“Oh, it is,” he assures me. “Tomorrow night. Tonight it’s just us. You said you wanted to rough it, so I’m taking you to one of my favorite spots. We’ll just need to watch out for bears and other wildlife.”
“I don’t know if I want to rough it enough to warrant a visit from bears,” I tell him nervously. “Maybe we should just wait for the rest of the group—”
“Trust me,” he says, and puts that steering arm around my shoulders again. “You’ll love this, I promise.”
“No, really—”
Pat pauses and looks shocked. “Are you worried about being alone with me?”