Page 77 of Love for a Lifetime

Soon, the dense forest cleared, and three trucks came into view. Olivia sat straight and tall in the seat beside him with Betsy clutched to her chest. Her gaze scanned the woods with an excited glint in her eyes.

Dawson parked behind the other trucks and killed the engine. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

Olivia jumped out of the vehicle before he got the last word out. “Let’s go, slow poke!”

Dawson let the laughter bubbling in his chest out in the cold night. Olivia might act reserved sometimes, but she was just as wild as the wind.

20

OLIVIA

Olivia gripped Betsy to her chest as she stepped over a fallen tree. They’d been walking for ten minutes, and the dog was starting to get antsy, wiggling in Olivia’s grip and letting out soft whimpers every so often.

“Just a little longer, babe,” Dawson called over his shoulder as he led them through the woods.

“Babe?” Olivia said as she held Betsy up until they were face-to-face. “He gets me out of the house one night, and he’s already calling me babe.”

“I was talking to Betsy,” Dawson said over the crunch of the dried leaves covering the forest floor. “You’ll always be my queen.”

Olivia pulled Betsy back in to nuzzle against her neck. It was a good thing Dawson was walking ahead of them or else he’d see the color blooming on her face.

He had no idea that her heart thudded against the walls of her chest every time he called her his queen. She might be able to gloss over it and convince herself he was just teasing, but he always said the words with such care. They were never hastily tacked onto a sentence.

She wanted to wrap up in those words and live there–safely surrounded by Dawson’s affection.

Let’s not get started on the crazy excitement she’d been keeping a lid on since he showed up at her door with an invitation and a smile.

They walked for a few more minutes in silence before voices drifted over the crunching of leaves.

“Are you kidding me?” Dawson said.

“What’s wrong?” Olivia leaned to the side to see what was in front of him.

A small creek that had carefully dug out its own trench in the rock and dirt wound down the mountain. The gorge was about four feet wide.

Olivia clicked her tongue behind her teeth. They were close enough to hear their friends laughing on the ridge, but the chasm in front of them was a little too deep and wide for her taste.

“I told them to bring some boards down here to make a bridge.” He tossed the snack bag and Betsy’s food across the gap and turned to her. “Give me your bag.”

She let the backpack fall from one shoulder, then the other, as Dawson lifted its weight.

“Anything fragile in here?” he asked.

She glanced at the bags on the other side of the creek. “No.”

He hefted the bag into the air as if it hadn’t been giving her back pain since they started walking.

“You’re not tossing Betsy over there,” Olivia said, holding the dog close to her chest.

Dawson wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her close to his side until she was flush against him. She held onto the dog with one arm and wrapped the other around his back just in time.

“Dawson!”

The exclamation burst from her as he lifted her. He took one massive step across the creek and set her down on the other side.

The roaring in her ears was loud enough to wake up all woodland creatures within a half-mile radius. Clutching Betsy, she stayed plastered to his side, all too aware of the hard planes of his muscular back.

“You gonna dig your fingernails out of my back, Liv?”

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