“So you don’t know how?” I ask, not probing or trying to be rude, I’m just curious.
He’s quiet again. I lace our fingers together again and give him a small squeeze, trying to encourage him to open up without letting my mouth say something else stupid.
“I don’t know if it’s that I don’t knowhow, more so, that I’ve never really had a reason to, until now.”
Damn him and his stupid, unintentional charm. His words leave me speechless for a moment.
“If you don’t stop saying shit like that, we’re not even going to make it to the campsite,” I mumble, turning to look away from him so he can’t see how pink my cheeks are.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” he asks, tugging on my hand slightly so that I look at him.
“I’ll let it be whatever you want it to be.”
I bring our entwined hands up to my mouth and kiss his knuckles softly, not knowing what else to say.
We drive on the paved road for a few more hours before he takes a turn onto a gravel road.It’s a little bumpy in some spots, but for the most part, it's not bad.
Somehow, we end up in the most perfect grove of trees. There are no people around; just trees, a small lake, and an opening big enough for our campsite to fit in.
“B…” I whisper, getting out of the truck and opening the back door for Mocha.
“You like it?” he asks as we round the truck. The sun hasn’t set yet, but the sky is starting to change into an army of pastel colors.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper, standing and watching the sky change.
I follow the little path that leads down to the shore of the lake. A small rickety dock, floating attached to the shore. I take a deep breath and can smell the fresh rain and sunshine. I can tell that I’m going to love it here.
He pulls me in front of him until my back is to his chest, his chin resting on my shoulder as he wraps his arms around my middle.
“I thought you’d like it,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss on my neck before looking back out over the sky.
We stand like this for a few quiet moments before we start to set up camp.
My job is to look for firewood while Beckett gets the tent ready and gets dinner cooking.
I make several trips, packing all that I can in my arms. Mocha tries to help by dragging sticks along with us.
Once we have a decent pile and the tent is set up, I switch to getting the inside of the tent ready.
I pump up our air mattress and lay out our foam pad. Then I set our bags and food inside, along with all of Mocha’s stuff. The last thing I set up is our blankets.
The tent isn’t huge, but it comfortably fits all our stuff, which is good.
I change into some sweatpants and a hoodie, opting to take my makeup off and put on some better shoes. I pull my hair up into a messy bun, and by the time I exit the tent, I look like an actual hobo.
Beckett looks at me from his chair and gestures for me to join him. I climb into his lap, my head resting back against his shoulder and my legs draped over his arm. Mocha sits by our feet, chewing on a rubber toy.
“I think I’m going to have to take you outside more often. I like this look on you,” he whispers, his lips gently grazing my neck, while his hands find their way under my hoodie, lightly grazing the skin of my belly.
“Beck,” I whisper as he gently sucks on my neck.
“Mhmm?” he hums as his hands find their way farther up under my hoodie.
“I look homeless.”
“You’re the best-looking homeless person I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re just saying that.”
