“It’s raining.” I blinked and rubbed my eyes. “Are you hiking in that?” He was wearing only shorts and sneakers, so his tanned, fit torso was on full display and very nice to look at. Plus, he was all wet from the rain, drops of water rolling down his chest over his left nipple and down—
He cleared his throat and I looked up at his face. My cheeks heated and I rubbed them, like I could erase my blush. “Sorry. I’m not quite awake, yet. Can you explain what’s happening right now?”
He looked downright giddy with happiness. What the hell kind of person could be giddy at seven in the morning? “I’m just getting back from a run. I’m going to change and get some breakfast. Then, I’ll pick you up at eight for our hike.”
I looked at the yard and the mountains behind him. It was now raining so hard it sounded like nature was drumming for a metal band and the mountains were shrouded in clouds. “I don’t like to hike, Oscar. I’m definitely not doing it in the rain.”
“It’s going to stop by the time we get up the mountain.” He turned away but stopped. “Wear your bathing suit.”
I stared after him, thoroughly confused, but he’d walked through his own door and shut it before I could formulate the question I needed to ask.
I should just go back to bed and pretend him showing up at my door was a bad dream, he was way…And I was definitely…I just had a really bad feeling…And that was what decided me, because I would never be my mother. Long ago, I’d decided that every time I got a bad feeling I would run in the direction it was warning me away from. I know, I know I’m supposed to listen to my instincts, I’m not a complete idiot. I don’t walk alone through dark alleys, but when I know a bad feeling is irrational, I run head-long at it. Cowering is not an option. Fear is not an option.
I showered and dressed, pulling on a bikini under my shorts and t-shirt. I didn’t have hiking boots, only one pair of old ratty sneakers, but they’d have to do. Kindle in hand, I ate my cereal, and was totally caught up in a story of a woman who had to fight her way through a forest of trolls to save her sister when Oscar knocked at my door. I closed my book with a sigh, leaving the heroine hanging from the side of a cliff, her fingers slipping, slipping.
I opened the door to find Oscar on my porch again, dry, in shorts, a t-shirt, and hiking boots, a pack on his back. I should have acted like a normal person and followed him out, but if he was going to be my friend, it was as good a time as any for him to learn how not normal I was. “Can you just give me five minutes.”
“Sure” he said. “Do you need to borrow a pack for your stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“Snacks, water, that stuff.” He spoke like I should know what he was talking about.
“I just ate breakfast. I need five minutes to find out if Taera is going to make it off the cliff.”
Finally, he looked as confused as I felt. “Who?”
“The heroine in the book I’m reading.”
His confusion vanished. “Oh, sure. Mind if I raid your pantry while you read? You’re going to need food and water for this hike.”
I stared at him. “How long is this going to take? I’m not a super-fit athlete like you.”
His gaze dropped down my body and I shivered, liking too much the way his full attention felt on me. He cleared his throat. “I promise you’ll be able to handle it.”
“Then I hereby grant you full access to my cupboards and pantry, but I haven’t been shopping in a while.”
I sat at the table and opened my Kindle while he rummaged around my kitchen. It took me only seconds to slip right back into the world of the book. Taera lost her grip on the cliff ledge but was saved right before she hit the ground by her trusty Pegasus, who had a cool mental connection with her.
I closed my Kindle and looked up to see Oscar sitting across from me. I’d forgotten he was in my kitchen. “Okay,” I said. “I’m ready to go.”
He frowned. “How are you not entirely composed of natural colors and sugar?”
“Maybe I’m just tired. But nothing you’re saying this morning is making any sense.”
“Your food. You don’t have any real food in this house.”
“I haven’t been shopping in a while,” I said. “But I’m pretty sure I’ve got some pop tarts somewhere.”
He dropped his head and sighed. “I’ve got some food at my place. I’ll throw a couple bottled waters and some granola bars in a bag for you. I’ll meet you out front in five minutes.”
Five more minutes to read, five more minutes to put off this torture session he called a hike? Sounded good to me.
While he went inside, I took a seat on the top porch step, but I didn’t open my book. It had stopped raining and there was a misty haze in the air, like steam rising from the ground. In the mountains the sun radiated off the mist, making the view crystalline and gorgeous. Maybe there was some value in getting up so early.
A door creaked open and I turned to see Sandra step onto her front porch. “Mornin’, Dilly,” she said. “What you getting up to today?”
“Nothing much. How about you?”
“I’m off to work. Terry’s having a party this weekend, asked me to invite you.”
Terry lived three houses down. He was a transplant to Catalpa Creek, but had made the rounds of our neighborhood and gotten to know everyone like he’d lived here forever. Our neighborhood was mostly rentals and attracted younger residents. A group always up for a party. “Maybe I’ll stop by,” I said.
“Invite your new neighbor, too,” she said with a wink. “He’s adorable.”
“Okay,” Oscar said, popping back out of his place and closing the door gently behind him, oblivious to Sandra leaning on her porch railing and watching us. “Let’s go.”
He handed me a small pack and I followed him to his car. I felt Sandra’s gaze on us as we passed, but I ignored her. I was sure I’d get an earful later. He opened my door for me and I got in, settling into a car that smelled and looked brand new. “Fancy car,” I said when he got in.
He looked at me in surprise. “It’s a standard four-door sedan. Nothing fancy here.”
I shrugged. “I don’t speak that language, but it’s brand-new and sparkly and clean, so it seems fancy to me.”
He started the car. “It was one of my last big purchases before I decided I’d rather have free time and mountain views than a downtown condo and a new car.”
“Still not speaking your language.”
He turned left on Main street and headed toward the mountains. It was then that I realized it was after eight and my mother would be expecting a call just about the time we got up into the mountains and out of cell phone range.
“I worked—”
“Hold that thought,” I said. “I need to make a quick phone call.”
“No problem.” His tone was light, but I knew I was being undeniably rude.
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “But this is better than the alternative, I promise.” No reason for him to know the alternative would be a frantic call from my aunt and an abrupt end to our hike.
Trying to keep the call as brief as possible, I assured Mom I was fine and promised I was staying close to home and had no intention of leaving town. I did tell her I was going to the movies with Carrie for the afternoon matinee and wouldn’t be able to call her until later in the evening. She didn’t like that, but she accepted it with a minimum of grumbling. I hung up, feeling terrible and worried about what Oscar must think.
When I glanced over at him, his jaw was tight. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
“I’m—” I stopped myself. I’d almost told him the truth, something I’d never told any of the Catalpa Creek locals. No one wanted to hear my sad story. And it’s not as though Oscar was single or this was a date. “It’s new. I don’t think he’d understand me spending the day with a guy.”
He nodded, eyes on the road, grip on the steering wheel tight. “In my experience, lying is never a good start to a relationship.”
<
br /> And in my experience the truth had been the death knell for every relationship I’d ever had. “No one wants to know the truth, Oscar, not really. We all want to keep our fantasies alive and enjoy the glossy, fun moments. No one wants to see the warts and the dirt under our fingernails.” It occurred to me that Abram had said basically the same thing to me just a few days ago. But I wasn’t as bad as Abram, I wasn’t hiding a wife and a family, I was just keeping everyone in my sphere happy.
He sighed, but the tension left his body. “I don’t buy that. The right person will love the dirt under my nails and all my warts.”
“A romantic,” I said, my tone mocking, even as my throat tightened. I’d once dreamed of meeting someone who felt that way about me, but romances like that, friendships like that, only happened in books. “You are full of surprises, Oscar.”
“That’s me. Nothing ordinary here.”
“Before my phone call,” I said. “You were going to tell me about your last job.”
We were in the mountains now, the forest full of buds and flowers around us, and I yawned to pop my ears. He glanced over at me, his expression considering. There was a new wariness there and I hated that I’d created that distance between us. “Come on,” I said. “Give the poor girl who’s never left Catalpa Creek a story of the world beyond.”
Finally, he smiled. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless. “You’ve never been out of Catalpa Creek?”
“Only once. But it was a long time ago.” And I would never leave again, not as long as I was tied to my mother and her need to keep me safe. Safe. God, I hated that word.
“I worked for a big corporation in the DC area. I had a huge, corner office and a fat paycheck, everything that’s supposed to spell success, but I hated every minute of it.”
“What was so terrible about it?”
He glanced over at me and then back at the road, his expression unreadable. “I never spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted to do. I took all the right classes and internships. I did what was expected, but when I got into the job, I realized it just wasn’t for me. I didn’t have any time to do the things I really loved, to spend time with the people I loved. It wasn’t the life I wanted to live.” He shook his head. “I’ve never understood people who were okay with plodding through every day unhappy, working toward some goal they might not even live to see. We only get one life and I decided I wanted to live mine, to enjoy every moment, to follow my passion.”
“And the salt spa is your passion?”
He smiled and seemed to relax even more. “I wouldn’t say it’s my passion. Being in Catalpa Creek with the mountains at my back door, that’s my passion. I enjoy owning the salt spa, I think it does people a lot of good, makes their lives better and…I guess that’s my passion, helping people, feeling I’m improving their lives in some small way.”
“I feel the same way about my job at the library. I started there because I love books, love anyplace that houses books, but helping people, seeing them light up about a book or a new skill, that really makes me feel like I’m doing something special.”
He pulled into a small, dirt parking lot with only two other cars in it. He shut off the engine, pulled out the key, and turned in his seat to face me. “You ready to do this?”
I wondered if he’d let me off the hook if I pouted, but I’d never been a pouter and I wasn’t about to start now. “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.”
“I promise you’re going to love it. You’re going to be begging me to take you again.”
Why did his words send my mind straight to the gutter and images of his bare, wet chest?
***
“When does this get fun?” I asked, as I swatted at a swarm of gnats who apparently wanted to be my best friends and had been trying to woo me to their side since the start of the hike.
“Stop,” Oscar said. I glanced back over my shoulder, confused and nervous. Was I about to step on a snake? I stopped and took two steps back before looking at the dirt trail. Nope, clear of all reptile forms. Oscar put his hands on my shoulders. “Just stop. Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
He chuckled. “Trust me, Dilly. Close your eyes.”
“This is ridiculous.” But I closed my eyes.
“Forget about the goal,” he said. “Forget about all the things you hate about being outside. Breathe in and smell the forest around you, the spring growth, the decaying leaves, the soil. Do you smell it?”
I breathed in. The scent was lovely, if more than a little overwhelming. Spring was a crazy mash-up of sensory experiences. “Yes.”
“Good. We aren’t in a hurry today. We don’t have to be anywhere or do anything other than exist on this trail and take in nature. If you want to sit down right here and just watch the forest around us, I won’t complain. You don’t owe me or anyone else anything.”
It was stupid, but his words lifted a burden I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying. I sighed and relaxed.
“Now, listen,” he said. “Do you hear the wind through the leaves? The birds singing?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to keep going?”
I opened my eyes. “Can I stop whenever I get tired of this?”
“Sure. I’d never ask you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Okay, then. Let’s keep going.”
I’m not going to say I loved the hike after that. The gnats still drove me crazy, and sweat makes me itchy, but I had a better appreciation for the nature around us. We hiked in silence, just absorbing the beauty of the forest, and I didn’t think about my mother or my job or Carrie’s ridiculous plan to set me up. I thought about nothing but putting one foot in front of the other, and it was the most relaxing day I’d had in a very, very long time.
I was in the rhythm, lost in the moment, when the sound of rushing water mixed with the wind through the leaves and the birds twittering. “Is there a river nearby?”
“Not exactly,” Oscar said. “There’s something better.”
We kept walking, the sound of water getting louder, until the path opened up to reveal a waterfall rushing down the side of the mountain into a huge pool just a few yards from where we stood. On either side of the waterfall were flowering trees and emerald green undergrowth, making the whole scene like something out of a fairy land. I stared at the beauty before me, feeling like I was witnessing something holy.
Oscar stepped up next to me. “So, was this worth the hike?”
I looked over at him, grinning next to me, slightly sweaty, and I felt happier than I’d been in a very, very long time. “So worth it.”
He dropped his pack onto a boulder near the trail and pulled off his shirt. “Let’s go for a swim.”
“But it’s April. The water’s got to be freezing.”
He shucked off his pants, revealing swim trunks. “You honestly walked all the way up here and you aren’t going to have a swim?”
He made a good point. I dropped my bag to the ground, and pulled off my shirt and shorts, my favorite string bikini underneath. Oscar strode to the edge of the swimming hole and spun and looked back at me. “Hard to swim when you’re all the way over there.”
I took my time making my way over to him, hoping he’d be a gentleman and jump in first. He stuck out a hand when I got close. “We’ll jump in together.”
The sun shone down, warm and toasty, but I wasn’t silly enough to think it had warmed the pond. “Isn’t there a shallow end we could start out with, get used to the cold gradually?”
He scoffed. “Jumping in all at once is the only way to do it. Why drag out the agony?”
He wiggled his fingers and I took his hand, his warm palm wrapping around my much smaller hand. “Just don’t be surprised if I try to climb you like a tree to get warm.”
He smirked. “I would never complain about you stealing my body heat.”
Then he pulled me forward and I was forced to leap with him into the pool. The water closed over our heads and Osc
ar kept a tight grip on my fingers. It was every bit as freezing cold as I’d expected, but it felt delicious, like silk over my skin, and so refreshing after a morning spent sweaty and dusty.
Under water, Oscar released my hand and we swam back to the surface. The pond was surprisingly deep. As soon as my head broke the surface, the cold water went from refreshing to downright cold. Treading water helped me stay somewhat warm, but my teeth were chattering in a matter of moments. Even so, I didn’t want to get out. It was so beautiful there with the trees towering over us and the blue sky above. The surface of the water was coated with fallen blossoms from the budding trees and the sweet smell was invigorating.
The waterfall was so loud it was hard to hear Oscar, so after I asked him to repeat what he’d said three times, he held up one finger and then pointed toward the waterfall. When he took off swimming in that direction, I followed.
He led me around the splashing, falling water and into a sort of carved-out area behind the falls. The water was shallower there and we sat, shivering, only our bottom halves in the water. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. A natural wonder that was more than a little overwhelming, too loud, too cold, too chaotic as water splashed onto us from the wild, roaring falls.
Somehow, though, I found myself smiling, a simple joy rushing through me. I looked over at Oscar to see him smiling at me like we shared a secret and I guess in a way we did. He’d given me an experience I’d never had before. I let my head fall back and I screamed into the roar of the water. It felt good to let it all out, to empty my anger and frustration and guilt, along with the helplessness I’d been feeling lately about my mother. When I was done, I looked at Oscar, expecting to see confusion or dismay on his face, but he was still smiling. He released a masculine roar of a scream and I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. Some moments were just so perfect there was nothing to do but laugh.
CHAPTER FOUR
Oscar
I’d expected Dilly to spend a few minutes behind the waterfall before asking to go back to shore. Even I was freezing after five minutes. But Dilly seemed to be in no hurry to move on. She smiled, and it was like some weight she’d been carrying fell away. For a moment, she just seemed happy and free, the way she should always be. Our screams had been swallowed by the falls, a really excellent idea she’d had. Screaming had been the sort of release and relief I needed for many reasons, not the least of which that the sight of Dilly in that tiny bikini, her curves on display, her softness and creamy skin, had me thinking of seeing her in even less clothing, had my hands itching to touch her, had me imagining her legs wrapped around my hips. I wanted her so bad it hurt, and I needed to remember that she didn’t share any of my feelings. She had a boyfriend, one she called to check in with, which seemed unhealthy to me, but who was I to judge?
The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3) Page 5
