Silas speared a tomato and smirked. “I was here for, like, five days and spent most of that time naked here with you, but somehow, I’m invested. This stuff is a lot more interesting than anything in LA lately.”
“I doubt that. You were a newly and maybe reluctantly retired athlete in January. You’ve done a one-eighty, and you’re back in the game. That’s exciting stuff.”
“Hmm.”
“What? Am I wrong?”
He chomped his lettuce, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “No, I s’pose not.”
I set a hand on Silas’s shoulder and massaged the tense corded muscles at the base of his neck. “What is it?”
“Nothing, really. I just…I’m tired.”
I didn’t think that was all that was bothering him, but I let it go. “You should rest. Shower here? Or do you want to head next door and?—”
“Here. With you. I’ll grab a change of clothes after dinner. Is that cool with you?” Silas asked in a rush of words that took a second to untangle.
I threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed his temple. “Of course.”
We awoke at sunrise and at Silas’s insistence, took our coffee outside to the deck.
“Holy crap. I can see my breath. It’s like ten degrees out here.”
I chuckled. “It’s closer to forty.”
“That’s fucking freezing.”
“Your California is showing,” I teased. “Let’s go inside. We can get dressed and walk to the lake later. I can give you a little tour before I go to work. But first…breakfast.”
We ate scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, and sat in the same spots we had the previous evening, chatting about the frosty weather, the nearby running path, and wildlife sightings.
Silas furrowed his brow over the rim of his mug. “Shit. You have bears here, don’t you?”
“Sure, but it’s not like they come into town. They’re out there, but they’re not looking for you. You’re more likely to see deer, coyotes, rabbits, raccoons, and sometimes moose. But the thing you see the most in these parts are those annoying woodpeckers. You can hear them now. Listen.” I opened the glass door and cupped my ear.
“Woody Woodpecker, eh?”
“And all his cousins,” I huffed. “The red-headed woodpecker is responsible for the holes you see in some of the trees here. They store food inside the cavity or under the bark. But you’ll see some dead trees with bigger holes…or hollows—that have been around for hundreds of years. The town is named after them.”
“Let’s check ’em out.”
We dressed in warm clothes, coats, and beanie hats, and took the path that led from my yard through a patch of forest to the shores of Lake Norman. I pointed out a few samples of Wood Hollow’s namesake menaces on the way to the main trail.
A misty golden hue sparkled on the calm water, casting the lake in an ethereal glow. It was silent and still, no cars, no people…just birdsong and the gentle lap of the waves against the rocks.
“If you stick to the pathway and head north, you’ll eventually be at the tip of Pinecrest. If you go south, the hillside leads down into Elmwood. The trails aren’t continuous. They break at random outcroppings, so pay attention to the signage. But if you’re interested in some outdoor exercise, this is a good place to start.”
Silas adjusted his aviators and stuffed his hands into his pockets. His longish hair escaped the sides of his navy beanie and curled at his ears and his nape. He was an impenetrable wall of solid muscle and yet somehow, he managed to look boyishly handsome. And very sexy.
He glanced from left to right, admiring the view of the majestic forest bordering the lake in shades of evergreen, deep blues, and gold. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t believe this is in your backyard. Literally.”
“I like it.”
“Where are your neighbors? They must have lake access too.”
“Sure, but your friend’s house and mine are the only ones on this trail. There’s another outlet just past that group of rocks to the right. A local developer built a bunch of houses over there. It’s a larger, more affordable area. They can get to the lake on foot, but there’s a steep incline on that end, so you’d have to be committed to the trek,” I explained, checking the time.
He nodded. “How’s work? Still stressful?”
