Wrong For You (Before You Series Book 3)(13)

She nodded. “That’s why I hike here. I hardly ever run into anyone. It gives me time to think without any distractions.” She dumped a handful of berries into her mouth, letting out a soft moan as they exploded on her tongue. “Are you done already? I thought you were hungry,” she said as she wiped her mouth self-consciously with the back of her hand. “You’re making me feel uncomfortable stuffing my face.”

He laughed. “Just watching you and taking in the scenery.” She frowned slightly and then shook her head like he was a complex riddle she didn’t understand. That was fine because he didn’t understand himself most of the time, especially when he was around Violet. She was definitely getting under his skin, making him want more than he knew he should for too many reasons to name.

“Okay. I’d hate to let these berries go to waste. They’ll be gone next weekend.” She slid the straps of her backpack off her shoulders, set it on the ground and unzipped the front section.

“What are you looking for?” he asked sliding his back down the rough bark of tree to sit on the ground.

“I think I have a few plastic bags in here.” She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head.

“What do you need those for?”

“With one or two small bags, I could make huckleberry muffins for the kids at the Foundation and bring them in on Monday. I might even have enough for my personal favorite—huckleberries pancakes.”

“For the kids?”

“Muffins for the kids, pancakes for me.” She pulled out a bag and held it up for him to see. “I found one.”

“Save a few muffins for me,” he said, tilting his head toward the sky, letting the warm mountain sun soak into his skin.

“Catch,” she said, tossing one empty bag at him. “You fill that one and I’ll fill this one. The bushes are so full we’ll be done in twenty minutes.”

Reluctantly, he stood up and brushed the dirt off the back of his shorts. “Who said I wanted to help?” He didn’t mind helping. In fact, he wouldn’t mind helping her bake the muffins, but he kind of liked his view of her legs from where he sat. Without question, she had the most striking legs he had ever seen—long, not too skinny, and just the right amount of muscle that told him she hiked and exercised on a regular basis, but not so much that her legs had that over-muscled, trying too hard appearance. Then there was her hair. His fingers itched to get all tangled up in her pale silky strands. He loved the way her hair brushed the side of her face as it danced in the mountain breeze.

Pausing, she looked over at him. “You volunteered to help at the Foundation for a month and I need your help picking these berries, so get going. I have plans this afternoon so I can’t be out here all day.”

“I didn’t know volunteering meant you could boss me around for the entire month whether I’m at the Foundation or not.” He tossed a handful of berries into the bag, along with a couple shiny green leaves.

“Hey,” she said, dipping her hand into the bag and tossing the leaves onto the ground. “Just the berries, not the entire bush.”

“Sorry, Miss Emerson.” He flashed her a properly contrite smile. “What are these big afternoon plans that you’re so worried about?”

She didn’t look at him as she continued to pluck the berries from the bush. “Are you prying into my personal life?”

If Alec still had the ability to blush, he would have. Shamelessly prying or even caring enough to pry wasn’t his thing. What she did during her free time wasn’t his business, but he hated the idea that she might have a date, or even worse, a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter, but his mind had other ideas and it suddenly became imperative to know more about the woman who fascinated him more than he wanted to admit. “Not prying, just making conversation.”

She sealed her plastic bag and dropped it into her backpack. “I’m tutoring.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I tutor Dean every other Saturday.”

At his blank look, she added, “He’s one of the kids from the Foundation.” She cocked her head to the side. “Have you met any of the kids yet?”

“No.” And if it were up to him, he wouldn’t. At first he wanted to introduce the kids at the Foundation to music like one of the counselors had done for him as a teenager, but now that he had woven so many half-truths about his job and his life, he couldn’t risk any of the kids recognizing him.

“Do you want to?”

“I think I’ll stick to fundraising,” he prevaricated.

“Dean’s a good kid, really smart. He’s fallen behind school, but that only because his mom works the nightshift and he ends up taking care of his sister most of the time.” She pulled her water bottle out of her backpack and took a long sip. A few drops slid down her lips to her chin. “Do you want some?”