Her laugh slipped out before she could stop it. “You watched a tutorial?”
“I prepare.” Then, quieter: “For everything.”
Something in the way he said it needled her, tugging at a thread she wasn’t sure she wanted to pull. “Ever try preparing for fun?” she asked.
His mouth hooked at the corner. “I tried once. It ended in a thirty-page itinerary.”
She grinned. “You’re hopeless.”
“I’m learning. Against my will.”
They climbed a few steps in silence, the rustle of dry brush and distant ocean filling the space between them. Then Everett exhaled, long and low. “Kelsey thinks I know what I’m doing. But most of the time? I’m just ... guessing. Trying to be the opposite of what I grew up with.”
Surprise hit at his confession. He wasn’t looking at her, but she could feel the raw honesty pulling tight across his shoulders. It was as if they were continuing that dinner and their growing intimacy, but she couldn’t harden her heart and not answer. “No one knows what they’re doing. Not parents, not surfers, not anyone. We just pretend until something works.”
He huffed a laugh. “That’s terrifying.”
“Welcome to the human race, Suit.”
His gaze raked over her, lingering a beat too long. “You make it look easy.”
Her smile faltered, truth loosening from her throat before she could stop it. “It doesn’t feel easy,” she whispered. “Not since the injury. Not since losing my dad. I’m still figuring out what’s left.”
His expression shifted—sharp edges relaxing, something warm edging in. “You seem pretty damn strong from where I’m standing.”
Heat chased up her spine that had nothing to do with the climb. She looked away before he could see too much.
They reached a shaded bench halfway up. An older woman sat there, fanning herself with a brochure. Her lipstick was coral-bright, her hair in a silver braid down her back. Sweat pricked her face and she breathed a bit heavily.
Everett immediately stopped. “Ma’am, are you okay? Can I offer you some water?”
The woman looked up with a smile. “Oh, how kind. I didn’t plan correctly and drank the whole thing the first quarter.” She accepted his offered untouched bottle and drank. “Your mama raised you right.”
His own smile flashed. It was real and soft and made Rowan want to touch his lips. “Where are your family members?” he asked.
“Racing ahead. Forgot they brought their poor old grandma,” she said. “Kids these days have no sense of pacing.”
Everett nodded gravely. “Savages. My daughter left us behind, too.”
“Can’t imagine tackling this hike in the afternoon. Not sure I’m up for the finish but don’t want the kids to be alone up there.”
“Why don’t you walk with us for a bit? We’re not in a rush.”
The woman beamed at him like he’d given her diamonds. “I’d love to.” She turned to Rowan. “You chose well with this one. Not many gentlemen left out there.”
“Oh, we’re not a thing!”
The woman gave a knowing grin. “Sure you’re not.”
Everett winked. “Told ya I’m a catch,” he said mildly, before clasping the woman’s elbow and guiding her forward.
Rowan rolled her eyes.
They climbed together. Everett kept a careful eye on their unexpected hiking companion, matching her steps, adjusting his own without calling attention to it. Rowan had never thought of him as anything other than rigid, judgmental, and addicted to control.
But right now? He was charming and patient, chattering with this stranger like they were old friends. When they reached the summit, the woman thanked him and reunited with her three grandchildren, who enthusiastically pulled her to the side to take a pic.
They finished side by side and found Kelsey. The crater stretched beneath them in an immense bowl of greens and browns, the Pacific opening wide beyond. The sky was streaked with gold and lavender. The wind lifted Rowan’s hair and brushed it across Everett’s arm.
