“Look what I …”
I whipped around, heart leaping into my throat.
Noah stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide as saucers, mouth hanging open, and halted mid-sentence. “… found.”
For one eternal moment, we both remained perfectly still, like someone had hit pause on the universe. Me, completely naked, holding nothing but a scrap of red lace. Him, clutching something in one outstretched hand.
One Mississippi.
Two Mississippi.
Three Mississippi.
My brain finally caught up with reality, and I attempted to cover myself with the only thing within reach, the very underwear I’d been holding. Which, given its minimalist design philosophy, covered approximately nothing.
We both spun around simultaneously, backs to each other, me scrambling to locate my clothes, Noah apparently developing a sudden, intense interest in the leaky cabin ceiling above him.
I yanked on my clothes at world championship speed-dressing pace, almost putting both legs through the same pant leg in my haste.
When I turned back around, no longer distracted by mortified embarrassment, I finally saw what Noah was holding in his hand.
My phone.
“I found it on the trail,” Noah said to the wall. He held my phone up over his shoulder, still not turning around. “About halfway between the overlook and the meadow.”
As soon as my essential parts were covered, I lunged for the phone like it was the most important thing on Earth. I wiped mud from the screen with my shirt hem, examining it from every angle for cracks or water damage. When pressing the power button yielded nothing but a black screen, my heart sank.
“Is it going to be okay?” Noah asked, finally turning around now that I was decent. A flush still colored his neck, creeping up toward his ears.
“I think so,” I said, cradling the device like a wounded baby bird. “Just a dead battery, I hope. And the screen has a couple of small cracks.”
Noah’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “You can charge it when you get back to your room.” He finally dropped his hand from his eyes, though he seemed to look everywhere but at me. “I’ll bring the horses around front and we can head back.”
The memory of the kiss lingered between us, unacknowledged but impossible to ignore.
“Get back to my room? What, no more authentic adventures today?” I attempted to recapture our normal banter. “I figured you’d want to take me mountain lion wrestling. Or cliff jumping in one of those wing suit things. Ooh, or maybe we can go raft down a waterfall.”
Noah’s smile was bittersweet. “I think we’ve both had enough adventure for a while.”
Chapter Thirty
We rode into view of the Adventure Center after what felt like a lifetime of crotch torture via horse’s saddle. My thighs had declared open rebellion, my spine had filed for divorce from the rest of my body, and parts of me that shall remain nameless were sending distress signals. Biscuit, clearly as eager to end our journey as I was, picked up speed as we approached the stables.
For almost the entire journey, Noah and I had maintained enough silence to get nominated for some sort of librarian’s best behavior award. The one time I’d gathered the courage to reference what had happened between us, you know, the whole mind-blowing, universe-altering kiss situation, Noah had suddenly remembered an urgent need to “check the trail for storm damage” and trotted ahead, leaving me and my emotional vulnerability eating his dust.
“The thing about last night ...” I’d started.
“Hmm, better check that washout ahead,” he’d muttered, spurring Duke forward like I’d announced the trail behind us was on fire.
Subtle, Barrett. Real subtle.
I gripped Biscuit’s reins with white knuckles as we approached the paddock. After surviving rapids, lightning storms, and the emotional whiplash of Noah’s hot-and-cold routine, it would be tragically on-brand for me to face-plant in the mud five feet from safety.
Jenn stood at the gate, her eyes widening as she took in our disheveled state. My hair resembled a bird’s nest built by a bird with no design training and poor eyesight. My clothes looked like I’d participated in a spring break mud-wrestling competition, and lost badly.
Noah, infuriatingly, looked like he’d just stepped off the set of a rugged outdoor clothing commercial. Even his dirt smudges appeared artfully placed.
“Well, well, well.” Jenn’s lips curved into a smile full of unspoken observations. “You two look like you’ve had quite the adventure.”
