“I didn’t know there were trails. I mean, I’ve never heard of trails at a private house, but then I suppose I’ve never been on an estate this large.”
“I have a cousin. His name is Derek, and he loves to run and explore. He lives in the Pacific Northwest right now, and Grandfather had some trails put in for him. They’re not all hard.”
“We only have an hour break.”
“I figured we could walk to the Waverly Woods.”
“The Waverly Woods?”
“Yeah. Sometimes you get to see deer there. There’s a large clearing, and they come out to eat and play.”
“It’s a nice day, so sure. I’m grateful for the invite.” We head in the opposite direction of the driveway, and we walk in companionable silence for a few moments.
“So, quick question,” he asks.
“Yeah?”
“Does Amethyst think she’s a great poet, or am I just making that up?”
“Oh, she thinks she’s the best. William Shakespeare comes to her in dreams and tells her?—”
“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there.” He starts laughing. “William Shakespeare, as in the bard himself?”
“Yes,” I giggle and then scream as I feel something graze roughly across my cheek. I scream and stop dead, waving my hands around like a crazy woman.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he stops next to me. There’s such a look of concern in his gaze that it makes my heart raise.
“I think… sorry. I don’t know what it was. Something just brushed against my cheek, and I don’t know if it was a bee or a wasp or?—”
“Or a fly?”
“I don’t know. I am not great with bugs.”
“It’s okay. Stand still. Let me check and make sure it didn’t get caught in your hair or anything.” He stands there, and I feel his eyes flicking across every inch of my face. It’s intense standing there next to him, and I can feel my breath coming quickly as his fingers brush against the softness of my skin. And then his touch moves to my hair.
“Is there anything caught there?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. His eyes flick to my lips. “Do you know that we have never actually?—”
“We’ve never actually what?” I clear my throat, and he grins at me.
“Nothing. Nothing.”
“What?”
“I just—” He stops as something comes flying toward me again.
“Ah!” I scream out, and he looks to the right and smiles.
“Don’t worry. It won’t get to you if I’m here.”
“You’re going to protect me from the bugs?”
“I am,” he says. “Plus, I like to think that I am one with nature.”
“Oh, yeah? And why is that? Because you like to go skinny-dipping?”
“No. Maybe because I just appreciate every blade of grass, every petal on a daisy, every golden leaf on a tree, every skinny branch that’s about to break, every cloud in the sky, every bird that soars, and every butterfly that flutters past.”
