I shake my head. “Hiking.”
“Sure—of course.”
Our gazes find the sky again. For a moment, neither of us says anything. The forest settles around us, crickets chirping, the air cooling as night sets in.
Her voice drifts over. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Always.”
“What would you have done if you had found Bigfoot?”
Shit my pants. Run.
But I clear my throat and say, with as much dignity as I can muster, “I would’ve offered him candy and taken a selfie. Obviously.” I roll onto my side and prop my head up on my elbow. “Okay. Your turn.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“If you’d actually seen Bigfoot tonight,” I ask, “what wouldyouhave done?”
She considers this for a long, long moment. Grins. “Asked him if he’s single.”
“Ouch!” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Betrayal.”
She shrugs. “He’s tall, mysterious, and elusive. What’s not to like?”
I grin and lean in closer. “I’m tall, mysterious, and only elusive when I’m trying to avoid press conferences.”
She hums, pretending to consider. “Close second.”
I tackle her with a playful growl, and she squeals, laughing beneath me, her smile wide and real and perfect. Pinning her hands gently above her head, I gaze down at her.
Her chest rises and falls with laughter, but there’s something softer in her eyes now—something that makes my breath catch.
Her smile is slow. Sweet. “I don’t even know what to do with you anymore.”
“Good,” I say, mouth dangerously close to hers. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Bigfoot would approve.”
Her lips part to say more, but I kiss her.
It starts playful. Light. Quickly deepens.
Lucy’s hands twist out of my grip and thread through my hair, driving me the tiniest bit crazy. She pulls at it ...
Tugs . . .
The forest and everything around it melt away.
All I can focus on is the soft gasp she makes when I nip her bottom lip. The way her legs shift, cradling me between them. The warmth of her body beneath mine, even with the earthy earth we’re laying on.
My hands slide under her sweatshirt, fingertips skating over the warm skin of her waist. She arches into me with a content sigh that shoots straight to my head. Her hands slip beneath my shirt, palms running over my back, nails dragging lightly.
I groan against her lips. Trailing my kisses down her neck, I nip at her collarbone—I swear I could spend hours mapping out every spot that makes her squirm. Moan.
“Still think Bigfoot’s your type?” I murmur against her skin.
She lets out a quiet laugh that turns into a groan as I find a sensitive spot below her ear. “You’re doing a strong job of convincing me otherwise.”
