“You remembered.” I snatched one immediately, the buttery deliciousness melting on my tongue, the burst of wild berries still as surprising as that first Dawn Patrol breakfast.
“Hard to forget when you complained about being hungry or tired every five minutes that day.” Noah’s eyes sparked.
“I did not! It was every ten minutes at most.”
He pulled out two ceramic mugs and poured something that definitely wasn’t coffee. The liquid caught the light, shimmering golden in the waning glow of sunset.
“Is that the same champagne from our cabin adventure?” I accepted the cup, breathing in the mineral bouquet.
“Maya helped me track down a bottle.” Noah settled beside me on the blanket, his shoulder warm against mine. “Though personally, I still think whiskey pairs better with huckleberry.”
“Such a purist.” I took a sip, letting the champagne and the moment wash over me.
Below us, the valley stretched like a patchwork quilt of forest and meadow, shadows gradually claiming the landscape as the sun sank lower. A red-tailed hawk circled, effortlessly soaring without a single wingbeat. The breeze carried the scent of pine and wildflowers.
“This is perfect,” I said, leaning into Noah’s solid warmth.
His arm slid around me, gentle hand resting on my hip. “Better than Victoria’s infinity pools and diamond dust facials?”
“So much better.” I broke off another chunk of muffin. “Though I still maintain these would sell for ten dollars each inLA. Twenty if we ask Parker to do an endorsement. You know, his follower count is now higher than mine.”
Noah snorted. “I’ll stick to my mountain prices, thanks.”
The past year had been like living in a fever dream, except the calluses on my hands and the firm curves of my leg muscles proved it had all been real. From social media darling to eco-adventure entrepreneur, from city girl to mountain woman. I finally realized that not just one thing defined me.
“Remember when you made me climb that tree to rescue the osprey?”
“You mean when you couldn’t stop staring at my abs instead of focusing on the rescue?”
“I was perfectly focused on the mission.” My cheeks blushed at the memory. “That bird made a full recovery, by the way. Dr. Martinez spotted her nesting with a mate last spring.”
Noah’s thumb traced lazy circles on my palm as we watched alpenglow paint the peaks in rose and violet.
What a year it had been, turning Victoria’s “curated authenticity” concept into something genuine instead. Our Authentic Adventures network now spanned four wilderness regions, with more to come.
Diego’s Everglades Center had taken off like crazy, his swamp tours and airboat safaris booked solid months in advance. The photos he sent last week, of him leading a nighttime expedition, headlamp illuminating the ruby-red eye shine of alligators, had sparked another wave of bookings.
“Did you see Jenn’s latest update from Kodiak?” I asked, thinking of our friend and partner who’d led the charge in Alaska. “Three coastal brown bears in one frame, and not through a telephoto lens.”
“Speaking of updates,” Noah said, “Brie called again this morning from Costa Rica.”
“How’s the coffee farmadventure going?”
Noah shook his head, suppressing a smile. “That girl’s determined to revolutionize sustainable coffee production single-handedly. Though between you and me, I think she’s more interested in the farmer than the farming.”
“I knew there was a reason she kept extending her ‘research trip.’” I made air quotes with my fingers.
“Who would’ve thought our authentic Colorado adventures would evolve into this?” I gestured at the wild landscape around us.
Dark clouds rolled over the distant peaks, and a cool breeze ruffled my hair, carrying the electric scent of approaching rain. “We should probably head back soon,” I said, eyeing the storm front. “Those clouds look mean, and I’m still traumatized after dodging all those lightning bolts the last time we were up here.”
Noah’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he stood up. “Just need to do one more thing before we go. Yeti! Come here, girl!”
Ourwolf-dog lounged in a patch of wildflowers a few yards away, pretending not to hear. Something metallic glinted on her collar, a carabiner that definitely hadn’t been there when we started our hike.
“Yeti, come!” Noah’s voice took on that authoritative tone he used with tourists who wandered too close to a cliff.
Yeti rolled onto her back, exposing her belly to the sky, the very picture of canine insubordination.
