Page 33 of Come to Me

Her mother arched a brow, clearly not buying her explanation. “I’m not sure building a dock constitutes relaxing.”

“But a hike will. I can invite our newlyweds to go too.” The fact that Micki hoped they’d say no proved her parent’s curiosity about her attention to Patrick was warranted.

“They’re antiquing today,” her mother said.

“A hike will be good. That boy needs fresh air in those gunked up New York lungs.”

Her mother sighed. “Yes, of course. I’ll keep Tate occupied.”

Micki felt she should invite Tate along but didn’t want to share Patrick.

Micki went to her office, and like each day, she hoped she’d find the one thing that would save the family resort. And like each day, she didn’t. Not that she didn’t have a few ideas. But they didn’t have the money to enact them. So, she did her regular duties involving ordering supplies for the cabins, updating the accounting books, and posting pictures on social media. They always received likes and comments, but rarely a booking. Maybe today on the ridge she’d take the one picture that would bring in business. Perhaps she could include Patrick in it. Sure, he was a little stuffy and aloof, but he was good looking.

When she finished, she changed into a tank top and walking shorts, put on socks and her hiking shoes, and filled two tumblers with water. She put them in her backpack along with a first aid kit, bear spray, and sunscreen. She exited her apartment to the outside avoid her parents and Tate. As she walked the path toward Patrick’s cabin, she saw the newlyweds floating on the lake.

She knocked on Patrick’s door. He answered quickly as if he was waiting for her. She liked the idea of that. “Ready?”

“I doubt it.”

She laughed. Patrick knew he was a fish out of water, but he seemed to find humor in it. She took in his shorts, the same color as the ones he’d worn earlier. He wore a dark green collared T-shirt. He’d be hot, but she doubted he had a lighter fabric shirt.

“Did you put on sunscreen?” She reached into her backpack and pulled out the tube, handing it to him.

“No.” He took it and squeezed a bit into his hand and spread it on his face, leaving streaks.

“Here. Let me help.” She stood in front of him, her fingers rubbing the cream into his face. “Try not to sweat or it might go into your eyes.”

He arched a brow. “It’s impossible not to sweat here.”

She continued to rub the cream over his jaw, down his neck and v- in his shirt. All of a sudden, the contact felt intimate. She glanced up at him. His dark eyes were watching her.

“Good thing you have your shirt on otherwise I’d have my hands all over you.” Inwardly she winced at how corny and suggestive her comment was.

He shrugged. “It depends.”

She wasn’t sure what she meant.

“On if it’s a good thing,” he clarified.

The room grew warmer, and Micki was on the verge of pushing the man back to his bed and running her hands all over his body.

He watched her a moment longer and she wondered if he was waiting for her to jump him. He cleared his throat. “I hope this walk isn’t too strenuous. I’m feeling the effects of moving wood and building a deck in my shoulders and back.”

She stepped back, putting the sunscreen in her backpack and then slipping it on her back. “There won’t be any climbing. Just hiking.”

They left Patrick’s cabin, walking behind it and along the lake for a bit, before catching the trail that headed up the mountain.

“Watch for poison ivy.” Micki pointed to the plant on the side of the trail.

“I feel like I’m in Australia. Everything around me can kill me.”

She laughed. “Our spiders aren’t as big or deadly. Have you been to Australia?”

“Twice.”

She stopped, turning to look at him. “Really? If you went there, you shouldn’t feel so?—”

“I went to a conference. I stayed in the city.”

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