Rescued by Love(38)

“Lying down outside my tent, looking up at the stars. Please tell me about your place. I want to picture you there.”

“Why is it impossible for me to deny you a damn thing?”

She laughed. “I don’t know, but I’ll use that to my advantage someday.”

He missed her so much, he ached with it. “I hope you do,” he said honestly. “I bought this place from my college buddy Jett Masters. He’s a real estate investor, and when I told him I needed a place in the city where I could live outdoors, he hooked me up.”

“Live outdoors? What did he do, walk you down to a bridge and point to the space under it?”

“No. He showed me to a rooftop apartment. His brother Dean owns a landscape design business, and he created an outdoor living space complete with a lawn, plants, rock gardens, and a covered sleeping deck, which is where I am now.”

“So, you have a penthouse? I can’t even picture you in a penthouse.”

He took a swig of his beer. “Neither can I, which is why I also have a cabin out by my parents, but I can’t exactly hang out with my brothers at a bar and then drive, now, can I? Besides, this isn’t a penthouse. It’s a rooftop apartment, and it was the only way to get this outdoor space. I wish you were here right now, lying next to me.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.”

He listened to her breathing in comfortable silence, maybe even necessary silence, while they each dealt with the strength of their connection.

“Tell me a secret,” she said. “Something no one else knows.”

The answer came without thought. “I can’t stand being away from you.”

“Jake.” His name came out breathy.

“I’m serious, Addy. For months I tried not to think about what it would be like if you were mine, and now that we’re together it’s like everything I tried not to think about exploded into epic proportions.”

She went silent again.

“Too much honesty?” he asked, taking another drink of his beer to settle his nerves.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

He heard her smile again and pictured that sweet vulnerability in her eyes, wishing he was there to see it firsthand.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that a girl who doesn’t want to be told what to do is with a guy who uses terms like ‘mine’?”

“No.” He finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the deck. “You want your independence, but you need someone strong enough to know you really want more.”

“You think you have me all figured out.”

“Hardly. We click, Addy. We feed off each other in a way I never knew was possible, and you feel it. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be on the phone with me right now.”

She was quiet again, and he waited her out. When the silence stretched too long, he worried he’d pushed her too far. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll back off.”

“No, you won’t,” she said just above a whisper. “Because you can’t. The same way I can’t.”

He closed his eyes, reveling in her confession. “Let me come to you, Addy. Let me spend the next ten days experiencing your first hiking trip with you.”

He was answered in silence again.

“Addy, don’t get scared off.” Damn it. He shouldn’t have pushed.

“It’ll take more than that to scare me off,” she said softly. “But I should go. I need to conserve my phone battery or my boyfriend will worry. I’ll text you tomorrow night.”

He sat upright, his emotions lodged in his throat. “Wait, Addy. Don’t go—”

She’d already gone.





Chapter Twenty





GOD DID NOT make muscles for climbing mountains. That much was obvious. Addy rolled onto her side early Tuesday morning, wincing in pain. Her shoulders ached, her legs were on fire, and her stomach felt like small children had been using it as a trampoline. She inhaled the crisp mountain air and pulled her sleeping bag around her shoulders. Big mistake. She sucked in a sharp breath at the ache in her upper arm. She wasn’t used to hiking, digging, or carrying the equivalent of a large man on her shoulders.

She rolled onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling of her tent and thinking about how cowardly she’d been to end the call with Jake so suddenly. She hated that her need for independence was so deeply rooted her first reaction to his thoughtful suggestion was to clam up. But what had scared her even more was her second reaction, the one that had made her end the call. She’d wanted to agree to having him join her so badly, she knew if she didn’t hang up it might slip out.

Pushing up to a sitting position, and groaning in pain, she refused to allow herself to pick up the phone and call Jake. It wasn’t fair for him to have to deal with her mixed-up emotions. She needed to get her butt out of that sleeping bag, find the stream, stop wallowing in that crazy middle ground, and clear her head. I’ve got miles to cover, wilderness to conquer!

And a man to miss! He was definitely right. Every single thought led right back to him.

And…she had to pee.

Badly.

As she rose to her feet, her muscles retaliated, making her walk like Frankenstein, and she emitted pathetic whimpering noises with every step. She dug the Motrin from her first-aid kit, downed it, and unzipped her tent, bristling against the morning chill. Her bladder hurt she needed to pee so badly. She could brave a little chilly weather. After talking to Jake last night and then writing in her journal, she’d had just enough energy to strip off her shorts and pass out. She slipped her feet into her boots, which she’d left just outside the tent, and headed into the woods. Something wiggled beneath the sole of her foot and she screamed, kicking and shrieking as she hopped on one foot, sending her boot flying across the campsite. She grabbed hold of a tree to steady herself and lifted her foot to inspect the bottom. No bites or evidence of whatever evil creature had stowed away in her boot for the night. But now she had to pee even worse. Half tiptoeing, half hopping, she went deeper into the woods, paranoid about something—anything—crawling on her, but there was no way she’d go in search of her boot until she peed. She found a spot behind a group of bushes, dropped her panties, and crouched. As sweet relief took hold, she realized she’d forgotten toilet paper.

Great.

Nothing like a drip-dry morning.

She slipped off her skivvies and peered around the bushes. What the hell am I looking for? Visions of animated deer popped into her mind. Laughing at herself, she half tiptoed her way back to the tent and cleaned up down there, put on clean underwear and shorts, grabbed a hoodie and slipped it over her head. She tugged on thick socks, and wearing only one boot, she tiptoed and hopped in the direction of the boot she’d flung.

At least she’d forgotten about the pain in her muscles.

Her pink boot lay on the ground looking eerily out of place among the dark leaves and twigs. Her mind spiraled back to Jake. Was this the type of scene Jake came across when he was searching for a missing person? A single piece of footwear lying in the forest? The desperation of such a sight caught hold, and pieces of Jake continued falling into place. He wasn’t just being overprotective. He lived out his worst fears every time he went searching for a missing person. Only now it’s me he’s worried about. Guilt settled into her achy muscles.

She retrieved her boot and shook it out. Nothing but a few pieces of a twig fell out. She bent back the tongue and peered into it, fishing around inside for any lingering stowaways of the four-or-more-footed variety. Thankfully, whatever was in there had vacated. She wiped off her sock and shoved her foot in the boot, making a mental note to keep her boots inside the tent from now on.

Back at the tent, she brushed her teeth using bottled water, gathered her toiletries and soap in a backpack, tossed in a water bottle and a hand towel, and headed in search of the stream. Addy wasn’t big on north, south, east, west, but she knew she’d walked straight up the mountain and the stream should be off to her right.

Birds took flight overhead, their noises amplified in the peaceful forest. Shielding her eyes from the morning sun, she watched them fly away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken the time to watch birds do anything, and took a moment to enjoy her surroundings. The scent of pine and damp earth hung in the air, so different from the smells of the city. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and focusing on the serenity around her, and the ache in her lower back and legs. It was good pain. It meant she was pushing herself outside her comfort zone. The sounds of the stream trickled in and she opened her eyes. How had she missed that sound before? She followed the tranquil sounds to the wide, rolling stream and set her supplies at the edge of the water. As her mind revisited Jake, she told herself this was just what she needed, a few days of pushing herself out of her comfort zone without the constant barrage and hustle and bustle of the city.

But she wasn’t buying it as earnestly as she had a few days ago.

With a quick scan of the area to make sure there were no animated deer watching, she stripped off her clothes, grabbed her soap, and stepped into the stream.

“Holy cow!” Lifting her feet in quick succession, as goose bumps raced up her body like scales, she hurried into the middle of the frigid stream and washed up in the icy water. She crouched, hoping no fish decided to explore her private cavern, and rinsed the soap off as fast as she could. Her teeth chattered, but this was good, too. She was roughing it. Now she could say she’d done it.