Page 33 of Love By a Landslide

Chapter eighteen

Jonathan

Hunkered down in a squat, Jonathan tended to the fire with expert skill. The blaze was almost to the point of holding steady on its own. Feeding in a few pieces of kindling, he overheard Lucy rummaging around in her rinky-dink pop-up tent. Noisy mumbles, grunts, and curses were finally capped off by a contented sigh. She made far more noise than was necessary to change into dry clothes, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at her struggle. If nothing else, at least the ruckus would ward off any wildlife that might be investigating the active campsite.

Even in the wake of being stranded by a freak landslide, the sensation of settling into camp provided comfort. Falling into the rhythm of fire, shelter, and food allowed his mind time to clear the mangled debris of thoughts. Something about roughing it out in the woods—these woods, specifically—was like a soothing balm on his nerves. And Jonathan needed to keep his wits about him over the next day or two.

Lucy was relying on him.

Anxiety prickled his skin. The situation would have been much more manageable if he’d been stuck out there alone. He would have camped for the night then bushwacked his way north to connect with another established trail. At top speed, he could make it to town before anyone knew something had gone awry.

But with another person, someone as out of practice as Lucywas, they were looking at two days . . . minimum. And that was if the rain held out.

Please let the rain hold out.

Jonathan craned his neck to look up at the early evening sky. Very soon, the ridge west of them would block out the direct sunlight. Fortunately, twilight would linger, offering a bit more time for him to set up his hammock and make dinner before a chilly darkness descended on their camp.

Satisfied with the state of the fire, Jonathan stood. His groan accompanied the pop and crack of joints voicing their complaints over being in a crouched position for so long. The twinge of pain in his lower back continued to protest. He massaged small circles just above the waist of his pants, reminding himself to use a little of that witch-doctory salve Frankie had mixed up for him on his griping muscles before turning in.

Lucy unzipped her tent door, drawing Jonathon’s attention from hanging his hammock. She stepped out and into her flip-flops. As she bent over to zip up the tent, Jonathan watched her, appreciating what he saw, and ignored the niggling feeling of shame about ogling her ass. After all, she’d checked him out while he chopped kindling earlier. Turnabout was fair play. Where was the harm in enjoying the view, especially after the day they’d had?

As she stood and turned, a tentative smile played on her lips.

“Feel better?” Jonathan asked.

“Much.” Lucy nodded and approached the crackling flames. She briskly rubbed her hands together and held them out toward the fire. “It’s amazing what a dry set of clothes will do for you.”

“Agreed.” He watched her as she lingered near the fire. It wasn’t terribly cold yet, but she appeared snug in a pair of curve-hugging black joggers and a lilac hoodie. Her hair, which she had brushed out, was pulled back into a wavy ponytail. She looked adorable.

Clearing his throat, Jonathan secured the last few ties on the hammock’s built-in rain fly and headed back toward his pack. He removed their dinner and three beers. After nestling the cans into a shallow part of the stream that encircled camp, he returned to the fire and tossed the foil packets of kielbasa, potatoes, and onions onto the surrounding rocks to cook.

Lucy sat on a small boulder beside him, carefully rubbing the foot she had propped on her opposite leg.

“The stream’s cold and feels great on aching feet. Dinner will be a few if you want to soak in the creek for a bit.” Jonathan pointed across the clearing with the spork he used to flip the packets. “The gravel in that section is perfect for wading.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Lucy bounded toward the water.

A shrill squeak escaped her as she stepped gingerly off the bank and into the gentle current. “You are a genius.” She threw back her head and hummed. “An absolute genius.”

“Don’t stay in for too long,” he grunted, forcefully ignoring the heat rising in his chest from her sounds of bliss. “It may not seem that cold, but the water’s maybe fifty-five degrees.”

“I’ll only be a couple minutes. Besides, whatever you’re cooking will lure me over real soon.”

Jonathan glanced over. Lucy wiggled her toes, her face the picture of euphoria: spearmint eyes glittering, lids at half mast, cheeky grin stretching her lips wide. All he could think was how resilient she was—the fact that her spirits could bounce back so quickly after everything they’d gone through was astounding. What she’d experienced in one day would have completely broken the average person. Others would have panicked, curled up in a ball and demanding to be airlifted out of the woods. But Lucy, tough as nails Lucy, was standing in a creek, soaking her toes, in a state of utter relaxation. She was a marvel. He considered himselflucky to have ended up with her on this trip.

What if I let something happen to her?

Jonathan’s mouth went sour, and a chill rippled up his spine.No, don’t do that. Keep calm. Keep focused. She’s counting on you.

The squelch of wet flip-flops approaching shook him free from his jumbled thoughts. With a contented sigh, Lucy sat on the boulder again and held her feet near the fire to dry. “Dinner smells heavenly.”

“Well, I hope you brought your appetite because I packed enough for three.”

“I’m plenty hungry, but what are you going to eat?” she teased.

Jonathan pulled the packets from the fire and tossed one on a blue enamel plate, which he passed to Lucy.

Tearing it open, she didn’t wait for the contents to cool before she dove in, moaning with each mouthful. Accidentally dropping her spork in the dirt at one point, she gave it a fleeting glance before continuing with her hands. With her last bite, he offered her more from the third packet. She nodded emphatically, cheeks filled with potatoes.

Jonathan couldn’t stop staring at Lucy as she ate. She was ravenous . . . and so was he, but it wasn’t the food that held his attention. Between her “yummy” noises and licking her fingers, he could barely contain his groan of arousal. He wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his lap, bury his hands into her hair, and—

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