“Twenty-nine now,” I say, tapping my watch. “Tick tock.”
She mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘bossy ass’ as she grabs her bags. I watch her go, enjoying the view as she stomps up the stairs.
“And don’t forget your hiking boots!” I call after her. “If you don’t have any, tennis shoes will work!”
The only response I hear is a frustrated groan that makes me chuckle.
While she’s upstairs getting ready, I load my truck with the camping gear I picked up the day before—tent, sleeping bags, cooking equipment, and enough food for a night.
I chose a spot by a secluded lake about an hour’s drive into the mountains. It’s accessible by a dirt road up to a certain point, then we’ll have to head out on foot for about twenty minutes before we get there.
Yesterday when I was thinking through options of where we should go, the memory of it came back to me. It’s a place I used to stay quite frequently after I got out of rehab and I’ve never brought anyone out there with me—until now.
Noia comes out of the house wearing jeans, a long-sleeved flannel shirt over a band T-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. Carrying a small duffel bag, the look on her face says she’s being marched to her execution.
“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me,” she mutters as I take her bag and toss it in the back of the truck.
“I’ll be fun, I promise.” I open the passenger door. “And trust me, this is nothing compared to what I’ll be ‘doing to you,’ if you behave.”
Her brows hitch as she gives me a skeptical look before climbing into the passenger seat.
FORTY-ONE
noia
The drivethrough the mountains is beautiful as the roads wind through dense forests and past rushing streams. Ryder’s truck handles the rough terrain with ease, and despite my initial protests, I find myself pretty relaxed.
“So where are we going, exactly?” I ask, watching the scenery blur past.
“A place I used to go when I needed to clear my head.”
One of his large hands is resting on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift. When he shifts, his forearm flexes.
I squeeze my thighs together.
“It’s peaceful and private.” His lips curve into that maddening smirk. “Perfect for what I have in mind.”
The way he says it makes heat pool low in my belly. “And what is that?”
“You’ll see.”
After about an hour, he turns onto a narrow dirt road that’s barely wide enough for the truck to get through the trees without scratching it up. The truck bounces and lurches over rocks and roots, and I have to grip the door handle to keep from sliding around.
“Jesus, Ryder. Are you sure this is actually a road?”
“Relax, kitten. We’re almost there.”
Finally, he pulls into a small clearing and cuts the engine. Aside from the sound of wind through the trees and birds chirping, the silence is instant and overwhelming.
He climbs out of the truck and grins. “From here, we hike.”
I jump down and follow him around back where he starts grabbing the camping gear. “How far is it?”
“About twenty minutes. So not too bad.” He shoulders a large backpack before handing me the smaller one. “This is for you to carry. Just water and snacks.”
The trail is well-worn but steep, winding through towering pines and over rocky outcroppings.
After the first ten minutes, my legs start to burn, but I refuse to complain.
