by Bella Blake
“I’m sure you can, brother,” I say with a gruff edge to my voice. “But you tend to get distracted when there’s a pretty woman around, and you need to keep your head in the game this weekend. So, forget your plans for a romantic interlude at that cabin. Especially ones that involve me.”
He shakes his head at me while he adjusts the straps of his pack. “I’ll never understand you. Women go fucking crazy for firefighters, but you spend all your damn time at the station. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you had a hard-on for guys with beards and suspenders.”
I flip him the middle finger as I head out the door. “Why don’t you take a long hike off a short cliff?”
“Love you, too!” he yells as I stomp down the porch steps to the driveway.
My truck starts up with a deep rumble, and I take a moment to shake off my irritation at Chase as I flip through stations on the radio. I definitely don’t have a hard-on for guys, not that I care if anyone else does. I also don’t have a hard-on for the type of women who come out here and think they’re roughing it in the wilderness because they don’t have a wifi signal and they’ve gone without Starbucks for two days.
My wilderness is following game trails through thick brush to hidden lakes, or climbing a steep ridge to get to a secluded overlook few people have ever visited. The places that haven’t been spoiled yet by man. My wilderness doesn’t have soft beds, or air conditioning, or even people in it.
Unless they’re the right people, of course, but those rare souls are few and far between. My twin is one, and the guys on my smokejumper crew are definitely brothers in spirit. But there aren’t any ladies on that list. I just haven’t met the right one, I guess.
Neither has Chase, for that matter.
He’s a hopeless romantic, but at the end of the day, his love life is just as empty as mine—it just looks busier. But looks are deceiving. Hell, I think he’s even managed to fool himself that he’s halfway happy being a bachelor.
Dating games and random hookups aren’t for me.
Give me a woman who’s not afraid to push up her sleeves and chop some firewood. A woman who will lie beneath the stars next to a fire, enjoying the nightly serenade of the forest. Someone who doesn’t care about the lack of room service or cell phone reception.
If I ever find a woman like that, I’ll take her to Ooligan Falls, my favorite spot. There, I’ll show her what I’m really made of. She’ll be shouting her pleasure loud enough to make the wolves howl in the distance.
3
MEGAN
The wilderness preserve is so big it takes me forty-five minutes just to navigate from the park lodge, through the winding roads of the forest, to the small gravel lot near the base of Walker Mountain.
I park my Jeep next to three other cars at the trailhead and reach over to the glove box to fish out the wilderness parking permit I got at the ranger station a few miles back. Once that’s hanging from the rear-view mirror, I look around to make sure nothing is in plain sight. I doubt anything will be stolen, but it was something the guide had warned Vanessa about.
Satisfied nothing tempting is lying in the open, I turn off the ignition and climb out. Immediately, the afternoon heat assaults me.
The weather has been unusual for this time of year, as though the sweltering temperatures of summer just won’t let go, and now I realize why the guide originally wanted to meet just after dawn. Vanessa had put her foot down about that. She is so not a morning person, and the thought of getting ready before the sun was up was worse to her than the idea of bears attacking our tent.
I wouldn’t have minded getting a fresh start to the day, hiking in the brisk early morning air before the heat of the day kicked in. Now I get to become a sweaty mess in front of the guide, first thing into our hike.
God, I hope he’s a wrinkly old man. I don’t need to be a horny, sweaty mess this weekend.
Quickly, I grab my bag out of the back seat before slamming the door closed and pressing the lock button until the Jeep beeps. I grunt as I pull the backpack on, attaching all the straps like the guy at the outdoor co-op showed me. For weighing over thirty pounds, it feels surprisingly comfortable. It’s definitely worth the three hundred dollars I spent on it.
I am all in with this trip with the right gear—backpacker’s tent, water purifier, miniature stove and freeze-dried meal kits. I even have a damn trowel for bathroom trips. Plus my camera and a few personal necessities.
I think of the new romance novel tucked deep into my pack, ready for me to kick back and read about sexy Highlanders in my tent at night. They’re my favorite to read about—broody, sexy, strong, with hearts of gold. If a Highlander wants to sweep me off my feet, I am more than willing.
Too bad I’m not hiking in Scotland.
Shoving my wide-brimmed hat on my head, I murmur a quiet prayer of gratitude for the relief from the sun and make sure my insulated water bottle is in easy reach. I take a fortifying breath and make my way down the gravel path leading away from the forest service road to the trail head.
Stepping into the trees, I immediately feel at ease.
There’s something about being in the woods that settles me, like I’m meant to be here. It’s just me and nature—no stupid job to stress about, no demanding clients changing their minds about critical details at the last second. No nosey neighbors, or snarled traffic jams, or baristas with bad attitudes.
The mental imagery of city life reminds me of my cell phone, and I pull it out of the waist pocket on my bag. I’m fifteen minutes early, so I shoot a text off to Vanessa and my mom to let them know I’m starting the hike and turning my phone off. I scrunch my nose as it beeps at me, indicating a low charge.
Oops. I didn’t charge it in the car on the way up here last night like I meant to. Ah, well. I shrug and stuff it back in my bag. It doesn’t actually matter since I plan to keep it off until I’m done with the hike on Sunday.
“Vanessa?”
I turn at the smooth masculine voice saying my friend’s name. Oh, sweet mother of pearls. For a moment, I hold out hope that he’s just a fellow hiker. But nope, he said Vanessa’s name and has confused me with my best friend, which means he’s my guide for the weekend.
Which means I am so fucked.
During the last few weeks as I’ve shopped for this trip, I’ve looked at dozens of men modeling gear in magazines, posters, and website listings. But this guy puts them all to shame. Probably because he’s the real deal and not just posing for ads.
He’s tall and broad shouldered, with dark hair that’s just long enough to make me want to tangle my fingers in it and grab a handful. His skin is tan, with that deep glow that can only be obtained from a lot of time spent outdoors. And beneath all that delicious tanned skin is a lot of muscle. Probably hard-earned, and not from the gym.
I drink in the view, my eyes roaming every inch of him, twice. Okay, three times. Damn, does he always wear shirts that seem one size too small? Not that I’m complaining in the least.
Remembering that he doesn’t know who I am, I stick my hand out. “I’m Megan.”
“Chase Wilson,” he answers, giving me an easy grin and a firm, lingering handshake.
Holy roasting marshmallows, his hand is rough and strong, and it dwarfs mine. And that smile, it could melt an iceberg. My inner cave girl snaps to attention and my body screams at me to throw myself at his feet.
I swallow hard and try to find my voice. “Vanessa couldn’t make it. A work thing came up at the last minute.”
Speaking of Vanessa, she’d be all over this guy in a heartbeat.
Instinctively, I almost reach for my phone with my free hand, ready to text her that she was right, he is a hottie. Then I remember I’ve already turned it off, and that I’m now facing two choices: lie to her and say he was a wrinkly old man or take her advice and make a move.
“Too bad she couldn’t make it,” Chase says. “I planned a great route for us.”
His sexy blue eyes slide over me, nice and
slow, but I tell myself he isn’t really checking me out—he’s clearly just looking over my gear. Even if it’s a lie, it keeps me from fidgeting too much.
I realize he’s still holding my hand, and I gently pull it away. “I intend to make sure she regrets having to stay in town.” I cock my head to the side. “It’s okay that it’s just me, right? You don’t have a two person requirement?”
“Not at all,” Chase says, a sly smirk curling across his lips.
His very kissable lips, I think as I stare at his mouth. My God, woman, settle the fuck down. I tear my gaze away from his face and pretend to check out my boots. They’re my favorite pair, broken in enough to be comfortable, but still new enough to be fairly watertight.
“Just one thing,” Chase says, stepping closer.
He reaches out and, before I can react, his hands go to my chest. He unbuckles the chest strap of my backpack, straightens the twist in it that I somehow missed, and re-buckles it securely. I hold my breath, trying to steady my racing pulse, but I’m pretty sure he can feel the pounding in my chest as his fingers graze against my cleavage.
“There.” He grins. “I fixed your straps.”
“You can fix them any day,” I breathe out. My eyes go wide as I realize I said the words aloud.
“Good to know,” he tells me, with one eyebrow raised and a hint of that sexy smirk on his lips, which makes me feel all manner of things.
I clear my throat. “So,” I croak out. “Are we good to go?”
He gives me another head-to-toe sweep, as though he’s critically assessing every stitch of clothing I have on. Or maybe picturing me without any. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind of the idea, but I fail miserably, because now I’m picturing him naked.
“Yeah, we’re good,” he says finally. “I think you’re all set now. Nice pack, by the way.”
I swear his voice is doing things to me, because it takes me a few seconds to realize he said pack and not rack. It certainly doesn’t help that when he looks at me, it’s like he’s seeing every part of me.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Come on.” He steps around me and heads towards the trail marker, motioning for me to follow. “It’s a long way to the summit and the day’s not getting any longer.”
I join him on the trail, and we set off at a decent pace, with him leading the way. Damn, I’m already sweating, and I’ve not even walked fifty feet. Even in the cooler shade of the tree canopy, I’m still overheating. And this time it has nothing to do with the sun.
“If I’d known my friend wasn’t coming, I’d have been happy to get started earlier, like you suggested,” I tell him.
“It’s all right.” Chase turns halfway back towards me, unable to look over his shoulder properly with his bulging pack, and gives me a wink. “Two can be more fun sometimes.”
He returns his gaze to the trail while I come to a dead stop, wide-eyed. I get my wits about me and scramble to catch up with him, trying to decide if he’s flirting with me, or if it’s just my imagination running wild.
If he is being a flirt, it’s not very professional of him. Which is fine by me, because we’re ten minutes into this trip, and I’m already a goner. My eyes are drawn to his strong calves and the way his biceps bunch up as he tucks his thumbs into the straps of his pack and sets a steady pace up the trail.
As I watch him walk a few steps ahead of me, all I can think is that I want him to be very unprofessional with me.
4
CHASE
We’ve been hiking for several hours now, and with every step, my mind has been focused on just one thing—Megan.
She’s making my head spin as though she’s cast a spell over me. I’ve never been so off my game. Honestly, I have no clue how I’ve been keeping us on track, except for sheer muscle memory.
At the top of the switchbacks, I let her take the lead. This way, she’ll get the breathtaking views without me in her way. Which is great for her, but torture for me.
I don’t know how much more I can take of watching her hips sway back and forth as she walks, that luscious ass of hers tempting me. Her hiking pants hug her ass in a way that should be illegal.
That’s not the only surprise of the day—she has more endurance than I expected. When I’m hiking alone, I go hard. But for my clients, I usually have to slow my stroll, a lot, and take frequent breaks to let them catch their breath, especially when we’re hiking up steep terrain like this.
Not for her, though. She’s been pushing me to damn near my regular pace.
Yet another reason I decided to let her go in front.
Well, that and with me being behind her, she can’t see the bulge in my pants. My cock has been begging me to bend her over and bury myself in her, grabbing her perfect ass in my hands.
As we round the last bend to the summit, her gasp makes my cock twitch, but I know it’s from the view—not from me. I want to make her gasp, though, over and over as she climaxes with me deep inside her.
Yeah, so my asshole twin brother was right. I am distracted.
I can practically feel Hugh staring at me with his judgey I told you so eyes. But if he could see her, I know he’d be just as taken.
Because there is definitely more to Megan than just being another tourist looking for a quick traipse through the countryside. It’s impossible to hike together as much as we have today and not talk to each other.
So far, I’ve learned that Megan works too much and plays too little. That she’s spends her days in the corporate world but would rather be in the woods. That she chooses camping over fancy resorts when she vacations. And that she wants to travel to places unseen and indulge in all the food the world has to offer.
I’d love the chance to take her home and cook something savory and mouth-watering for her. Those curves she’s got aren’t maintained by fat-free smoothies and dainty salads. From her voluptuous figure and the way she talks about food, I can tell she enjoys eating, probably as much as I do.
I reach her side and take in the view.
This ridge rises above the valley, and the world before us is filled with a vivid green carpet of towering evergreens. In the distance, the White River snakes through the forest, its pale waters sparkling in the late afternoon sun.
It’s gorgeous, but what really takes my breath away is Megan.
Wisps of her dark brown hair curl around her face where they’ve slipped from her ponytail. She takes off her hat, wiping her brow that’s slick with sweat, and lets out a long sigh of pleasure at the scenery before us. Her cheeks are pink, and her lips are parted as she pants.
A small bead of sweat travels down the line of her neck to the hollow of her throat and pauses there, as though it’s waiting for me to lick it off her. Then it slides down her chest before disappearing under her far-too-sensible hiking shirt.
I want to tear her shirt off and find that droplet. Hell, I want to make her look exactly like this tonight—exhausted and satisfied. I want to hear more of those sultry sighs of pleasure as I taste every part of her.
“Damn, it’s hot,” she says, but she’s smiling. “Can we take a few minutes here?”
I shake my head clear of my devious thoughts and give her a confident nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Great,” she says, shrugging her shoulders to get her pack off. “How much farther until we make camp?”
Tonight is going to be hell with her sleeping just a few feet away. I’m tempted to accidentally-on-purpose kick her pack right off the top of this ridge, just so she’ll have to bunk with me.
If only I were that kind of guy.
Instead, I say, “About a mile. It’s the roughest terrain of the hike to get there, scrambling over boulders most of the way, so it’s a good idea to rest up a bit. Tomorrow, we’ll stay at an old hunting cabin, but tonight we’ll be in our tents under the stars.”
“Sounds perfect,” she says.
I reach back and snag my canteen, but the water does nothing to quench my thirst as I watch
Megan set her bag down and bend over, digging in her pack to retrieve her camera.
She snaps a few pictures, less than I expect, before returning her camera to her bag. As she tucks it away, she steals a look at me, and I’d have missed that quick, curious glance if my gaze wasn’t already glued on her. Her bright green eyes catch mine and I see a hint of a challenge there.
I don’t drop eye contact as she slowly unbuttons her top shirt, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her skin before the low-cut neckline of a white tank top hides what I really want to see. My cock responds eagerly as I spot the outline of her bra through the thin material and notice her nipples are hard, just begging me to suck them between my lips.
But a moment later the glorious sight disappears from view as she brings the two sides together and ties the bottom edges of her shirt into a knot.
I wonder if Megan knows the effect she’s having on me, and if she’s leaning into it to taunt me on purpose, or if it’s just my eager imagination hoping she is.
Either way, two can play at this game.
“I think you’ve got the right idea,” I say as I unclip my backpack and set it down. I reach back and grab my shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion. It’s drenched in sweat anyway, and the breeze feels good hitting my bare skin.
I meet Megan’s eyes and hold back a smirk.
I’m enjoying this slow tease between us, the way she’s looking at me, both of us flirting without saying much. Today has been way more fun than the hikes I’ve done before. No other woman has ever inspired this reaction in me, and it feels better than a heady buzz of top shelf whiskey.
“It is definitely hot today,” I continue. “I doubt it’ll cool off much tonight.”
I shove my shirt in a side pouch before pulling my pack back on. I want to finish the last mile to our campsite. Then we can unwind for the night, and maybe I’ll get to see what other surprises Megan has to offer.
