“How did you find this place?” she asked, tucking a rogue chunk of her silky hair behind her ears.
I cleared my throat outside the door. “One of my bird-watching friends used to work for the Forest Service when this was active. There are twenty or so fire watches that can be rented out year-round, and soon this will be one of them.” I leaned in conspiratorially. “What I’m saying is, it pays to know bird nerds.”
Nat scoffed and patted my shoulder condescendingly, but it was in good fun. “Well, this certainly looks familiar.” She gestured between the two small beds on separate walls from each other.
I’d been so focused on her reaction, I hadn’t taken in the space fully. I hadn’t considered the bed situation before and knew some fire watches only had one bed. It was perfect thatours had two, so she knew that wasn’t my intention for setting this excursion up.
She pulled her lip into her mouth as she met my eyes. Was there a question in that look?
I dropped my backpack on the bed closest to me. “This one’s mine.”
She took a seat on the bed across the way without argument and tapped the heel of her boot against the rustic wood grain.
The room was slightly smaller than the room we shared at home. The living quarters weren’t much, but it wasn’t about the accommodations. This was about the view and the experience. Nat tilted her head against the window, looking out over the vast Pacific Northwest.
I pulled out a pair of binoculars and handed them to Nat, then grabbed my own—sans eyeblack this time. I tilted my head toward the door and we moved outside, leaning against the railing to take in the windowless view. Nat’s elbow bumped into mine and I held my breath as she left it pressed against me. Everything felt like a watercolor painting, treetops tickling the sky, a mirrored lake reflecting the sun. Flocks of birds navigated through puffy clouds and mountains stood at attention, turning the serene sweeping hillside into jagged terrain.
“I can’t believe you planned all this,” she said in an awe-tinged tone.
“Just wait until later.” I waggled my eyebrows at her, trying to cut some of the tension, excited to see her reaction tonight.
Nat’s eye roll was as predictable as it was adorable. By the time we made our way through the woods to the truck, I wondered just how many more of those looks I was going to get.
Natand I pulled up to the viewpoint at dusk to find more than a dozen vehicles ready to take in the rare passing of a comet. These kinds of celestial events were perfect for outdoorsy people, and I knew she’d love it. We could have stayed at the fire watch, but Nat’s content always placed a spotlight on people’s stories, so I’d hoped it would be like this.
As if reading my mind, Nat said, “This is one of the things I love about events like this. It brings people together.”
A group of children ran between us, giggling as they made chase. She smiled at the couples setting up chairs and blankets in truck beds, a large portable speaker playing for everyone to hear. We found a free spot, and I laid out the blanket before emptying my bag. Her gaze seemed to track every new item I placed on the ground. She lit up at the various Tupperware with Camp Starlight written in black marker, giving away that I’d gotten Azalea’s help. And I was so glad I had. Nat looked ready to tackle me as I pulled out our salads, sandwiches, and cut up fruits and vegetables each with their own camp twist. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth around some bacon-wrapped dates, and Nat had the same idea as she eyed the honey-glazed carrots.
Once we were settled, she took a bite of one of Azalea’s brie and apple baguettes and sighed. A piece of arugula fell from her lips, and I held back my smile behind a sip of my water bottle.
“What?”
Apparently, I wasn’t as covert as I thought I was. I reached over to pick the greenery off her shirt, careful not to graze my hand over her cleavage. I’d touched her there, sure, but this was different.
She laughed as I shoved it in my mouth, taking the last bite of my sandwich to chase it down. She reached over to wipe something off my lip and sucked the residue off her thumb until she pushed me away, giggling. I started listing Oregon mountain ranges in my head to take my mind off the image.
A butterfly landed on our blanket, and Nat reached for her phone before pulling her hand away, rethinking the motion.
I frowned. “Why aren’t you taking the picture?”
“I figured pulling my phone out at something like this would take away from the moment. Or would annoy you, I guess.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Did I ever say anything to give you that impression?”
“No, I’ve just been on dates where I saw something pretty and was reprimanded for not appreciating my surroundings or caring about living life in the present.” Her eyes widened. “Not that this is a date.”
I nearly laughed at her nervousness over what we’d call this outing, instead focusing on the problematic part. “You can photograph something and still be in the moment. I love how you look at the world and how you document things. I’m sorry I misjudged you in the beginning.”
Her eyes softened. “You really don’t mind?”
I shrugged. “That’s why we’re here, princess. I noticed you haven’t done any excursions lately and figured you could use some inspiration.”
I had one more surprise up my sleeve.
She watched me as I went into the bag and pulled out a glass container of Fritos that I had melted chocolate over.
Nat touched her chest, taken aback. “You thought of everything.”
