“You’re the boss. Anything you want out of the pack before we skedaddle?” He rummaged around in the main compartment, stopping when he found the Tylenol. He looked at her expectantly after popping a few pills and taking a long pull of water. “Anything you take will lighten my load, so don’t be shy.” A teasing wink accompanied his playful smirk.
“I could carry the backpack.”
He chuckled low in his throat.
“What?” She planted her hands on her hips and scowled.
“It’s just that you struggled with your pack and this one is a lot heavier,” he stated while clicking a buckle in place. “If we want to make it to town this week I’d better carry it.”
An argument hung on her tongue, but his you-know-I’m-right stare had her shrugging in agreement. “Whatever you say.”
Lucy looked down at her feet, eyeing the collapsed hammock and ropes. A genuine smile spread across her lips.
“I have an idea.”
Chapter thirty-one
Jonathan
“Lucy, have I told you yet that you’re a brilliant angel sent from the heavens?” Jonathan smiled at the back of her head as her perky ponytail swayed with each sure-footed step.
“At least five times this morning.” Her sweet chuckle played over her shoulder as she glanced back at him. “You’d think I’d solved some worldwide crisis instead of just taking on half the weight of the pack.”
Before leaving camp, Lucy had fashioned a pouch out of the hammock and filled it with half of their supplies so Jonathan had less to carry. He had, of course, protested at first, but her logic that it would be better for his back was infallible. Using the ropes—and her new knowledge of tying knots—she’d crisscrossed the makeshift bag over his shoulders so the weight was evenly distributed.
It was lifesaving. Ok, perhaps that was overly dramatic, but it was extremely helpful.
Currently, she led the way to the lake she’d visited the day before so they could refill their water supply. Typically having difficulty relinquishing control, Jonathan happily trailed behind her, trusting her ability to lead them safely to their first stop of the day.
But then, at this point, he wanted to follow her anywhere.
They moved at a fast clip while still proceeding with caution to keep from overtaxing his tender back. The sharp stabs ofyesterday had downgraded to a mild soreness, but he didn’t want to push it. He was determined to get Lucy back to town and didn’t want his stupid back to waylay them anymore than it already had.
One rub about their pace was that there wasn’t the opportunity to talk without throwing Lucy off track or stopping altogether. Jonathan was nearly desperate to talk with her about the night before. They’d decided it was best to cool it for the time being, but after a night to sleep on it, something about that path felt wrong.
When they got back to town, he’d ask her to dinner so they could talk it out properly. Most importantly, he needed to know if she felt whatever it was that was growing between them. That immense crackle of heat and desire. He respected her. Every moment, he was in awe of her. He’d tried to convince himself that it was merely circumstantial, that their shared trauma fueled them to seek comfort in one another. But the more he tried to persuade himself, the more he realized it was a bullshit excuse.
Lucy was incomparable.
And while it terrified Jonathan to contemplate sharing his life with someone again—allowing himself to be relied upon—it shook him to his core to consider letting her slip away without saying how he felt.
But exactlyhowdid he feel?
Could he even describe how she’d awakened something inside of him? How could he explain that the part of him that was darkened, shadowed by the grief of loss, felt lighter? More bearable? It couldn’t be love. Not yet. He wasn’t so naive to think something so strong as that could spark that quickly. Four days. Jonathan had known Lucy for four days, and only one thing was certain.
Despite the clusterfuck of a weekend—getting caught in a torrential downpour, barely escaping a landslide, bushwhackingthrough the wilderness, losing all her stuff, throwing out his back—his world was better because she was in it.
Eventually, he was going to tell her. Then it would be her move. He couldn’t control how she’d take it, which was unsettling. But putting himself out there was better than living in regret, letting her go back to Seattle, thinking this was all some . . . opportunistic fling.
“We’re here!” Lucy’s excited squeal jarred Jonathan back to the present.
Lifting his proverbial blinders and looking beyond her for the first time that morning, he noticed the lush wall of trees and bushes. Excitement coursed through him. He couldn’t wait to see the lake Lucy had described the day before. Trailing her through the thicket, he stopped in his tracks on the other side.
She’d described an alpine oasis and hadn’t oversold a single aspect. The lake was stunning; he stayed there momentarily to take it all in. A gentle breeze coming off the water cooled the sweat on his brow. Despite their efforts to beat the heat by starting early, the temperature was already in the mid-seventies, and it wasn’t even ten in the morning yet.
Once he’d paid the area the proper reverential moment of silence, Jonathan untied the hammock cord crisscrossing his chest and pulled out the pump, bottles, and bladder to fill at the edge of the lake. He knelt, scooped up a handful of the icy water, and splashed it over his face.
“Good god that feels—” His words were cut off when a frigid wave doused half of his body. Startled, he choked on a gasp.