Page 26 of Love By a Landslide

Jonathan

It was nearly one in the afternoon when the pair made the sharp turn into their home for the night. The campsite, a large circular clearing with enough space for six tents, was picturesque yet rustic. Towering trees dotted the perimeter with branches that intertwined like junior campers about to burst into a cheery rendition of “Kumbaya.” A delicate creek followed behind the tree line, peeking behind the trunks and offering glimpses of sunlight glittering on its surface. The gentle, lilting trickle of water could have been recorded and piped through any pretentious spa. However, Jonathan would prefer hearing the natural melodies firsthand on a hike instead of during some overpriced massage in the city.

He propped his pack against a log-turned-makeshift-bench and took it all in. The sights, the sounds, the smell of warmed tree bark and cool water enveloped him. It was his first trip up Mount Stuart this year, and he was so glad to be back.

He looked up at the sky to gauge how many more hours of light they had until sunset. His best guess was that they had a maximum of six hours until the sun dipped below the surrounding peaks. That provided them plenty of time to summit then come back and set up camp. The two miles up to the top should take less than an hour, but Jonathan wanted to include a generous buffer to account for Lucy’s lapsed hiking skills.

He looked over at his companion as she unhooked the lastbutton on her lime green and black plaid shirt, revealing a garishly bright pink tank top underneath.Does this lady only own bright clothing?At least he’d be able to spot her from a mile away if she happened to wander off. The thought of her top glowing like a beacon through the trees almost made him chuckle before he pictured her accidentally falling off a cliff while taking a picture. A ball of lead settled in his gut.

“Hey. Don’t wander off.” Jonathan didn’t mean for the words to come out in a gruff demand, but he cared more about her getting the message than whether he sounded bossy. “And no selfies by a cliff.”

Lucy cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing at him. “I literally haven’t been more than ten feet away from you since we got in your car.” She leaned down and opened the main compartment of her backpack.

“I know, I’m . . . It’s just dangerous. There are cliffs everywhere, and it’s easy to get lost.” He could feel his brows furrow hard as though they were reaching desperately to touch in the center. “Got it?”

She stopped rummaging around long enough to give a clipped, “Got it.” Resuming her search, she finally found what she had been looking for: lunch. Holding a paper bag in one hand and a half-empty Nalgene in the other, she stepped toward Jonathan, paused, then retreated back to her pack and sat on the ground next to it.

Fuck.

His hunger had gotten the better of him, as had his worry about her getting lost or worse. Did she need to be realistically aware of the dangers out here? Yes. Did he need to be an asshole about it to get the point across? Probably not.

“I’m sorry, I’m just hungry. I was trying to give you a heads-up, but it didn’t come out quite right.” He snatched up hisbag and pulled out his own lunch then walked over to face her, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “Forgive me for being a brute?”

Lucy looked at Jonathan’s hand and chewed on her lower lip, indecision etched across her face. After letting out a little sigh, she allowed him to help her up. “I’d say you were being more of a grouch than a brute.” She wore a scowl, but a slight upward twitch at the corner of her mouth belied her attempted scorn.

“Uh-oh. Is that better or worse?” Jonathan played along with the assessment, trying to hold back his own smile.

“Definitely better. A case of the grouchies can be cured.” She held up her lunch bag. “Oftentimes with food or sleep. But being a brute?” She let out a whistle. “Brutes are more like cavemen who never took the time to evolve. It’s more of a permanent condition.”

“So, you’re saying I’m more evolved than a caveman?” he asked, gesturing for Lucy to have a seat on the log bench.

She sat down and settled the lunch bag in her lap, not making eye contact. “I’ll make my final assessment after you eat.”

Jonathan’s crack of laughter was so loud that it managed to motivate a few birds to evacuate a nearby tree. Settling in next to Lucy, he maintained a couple of feet of space between them. He dug into his own insulated lunch box and pulled out a wrap he’d thrown together. He took a huge bite and sighed. Then, looking at his hiking companion, he asked, “What did you bring to eat?”

Holding up a sandwich that was already half demolished, she tried to speak through a mouthful without letting anything escape. “A trusty PB and J.” After swallowing the bite, she added, “It’s my favorite hiking food. I never have them at home, but after a solid trudge through the woods, nothing satisfies quite like it.” Mid-sentence she stopped looking at Jonathan and began to gaze lovingly at her sandwich, as though she could barely finish whatshe was saying before she attacked it with renewed fervor.

Jonathan smiled as he covertly watched her lay waste to her lunch. “Food always tastes the best when you’re hiking, in my opinion.”

“Mm-hm,” Lucy mumbled, crumbs falling out of her mouth as she finished the last bite. “A truer statement has never been made. What are you having?” She pulled out a container of carrots and celery from her paper sack to tackle next.

“Chicken, hummus, and cucumber slices in a tortilla. It’s my go-to.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Well, it’s no peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I’ll suffer through.”

Lucy crunched on her veggies and grinned at his gentle tease. The flaming red of her face had slowly begun to subside as she relaxed and fully regained her breath. A rosy pink glow remained, emphasized by a haphazard dusting of freckles. Her green eyes glittered with satisfaction, though whether it was from successfully making it to camp or finally getting to eat her lunch, Jonathan didn’t know.

I’d like to be the cause of her satisfaction.

Oh, get a grip, man.

Jonathan pulled out an apple to sink his teeth into. How many times was he going to have to remind himself that screwing around with a customer could create a damaging reputation for his business? Lucy might be hard to resist, but he was a pro at keeping his hands to himself. It’s not like he was a horny teenager at his first boy-girl party in a friend’s basement. He was a damn adult capable of keeping his dick in his pants. He needed to focus on the nuts and bolts of the trip. Summit, hike back down, set up camp, prepare dinner, so on and so forth. He had an important job to do. No sense in getting waylaid by an inexperiencedout-of-towner, regardless of how well she wore those brand-new hiking pants and tank top. Or how badly he wanted to release her thick hair from its braid. Or how intoxicating that hint of pineapple and vanilla scent happened to be. Or how badly he wanted to take a taste . . .

“Want a bite?”

“What?” Jonathan’s high-pitched response came out in a startled burst with more than a hint of guilt.

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