Page 86 of Roughing It

Clearing my throat, I pack all the heavy away. “What I mean is Hudson and I haven’t discussed what we’ll do when our time here ends. We’re still learning about each other, and it’s too soon for us to make a long-term decision. But let’s not focus on that. Why, you may ask? Because today I’m shooting a freaking bow and arrow! How badass is that?” I flex my arms for the camera. “Hudson assures me I’ll be able to hit a bullseye when he’s done teaching me. You’ve got to love a sexy man with confidence!” I wink into the camera and wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.

Hudson leans against his Jeep, looking every bit the forest god he is. The morning sun casts him in a golden halo, caramel hints glimmering in his hair and beard. I’m taken over by the urge to run my fingers through, and I fight to stop from running to him. His dark green eyes scan me as if he’s seen me from the inside out—which, to be fair, he has.

Heat pools in my stomach as memories of our lovemaking crash over me.

A smug look flits across his face, and he mouths, “Say something,” throwing the words I’ve said to him so many times back at me.

“Sorry, BBs, I spaced out for a moment.” I giggle into the lens. “I was staring at Hudson!” I turn the camera on my cabin mate before holding it up to put myself in frame. “Who can blame me, though?”

Behind me, Hudson grunts before narrowing his eyes at me. “It’ll cement my reputation as the best when I show Blakely how to shoot an arrow accurately.”

Closing the gap between us, I grin. “Alright, BBs! I’m taking a quick break to set up the camera so you can watch as I become an expert markswoman!”

Next to me, Hudson snorts. Rude.

We’re in an open space, tall pines ringing around us. Sunlight peaks through the boughs of the trees, and there’s a chill in the air. November is nearly here. While I set up my tripod and the shotgun mic, Hudson grabs two bows and a quiver of arrows.

“Wait, I need to check the framing,” I holler, not wanting to miss his first shot.

Taking stock of the targets on the far side of the clearing, I check that everything is in view. Then I do a quick audio test, and it’s time to go live.

“Hey, BBs! Welcome back. Hudson is going to give us a quick demonstration. Who’s ready?” Hearts float over the screen, and I grin. For all my ups and downs about social media, I can’t deny the buzz I get when things are going well. Maybe someday I’ll be enough on my own…

Nope. Already decided I’m not traveling down that twisty road today.

“Blakely?” Hudson is watching me, his brow creasing with concern.

“Do your thing, Bear.”

At my prodding, Hudson sheds his flannel, leaving him in a tight white tee. He smoothly draws an arrow and holds it to the string. There’s a softtwangfollowed by a solidthunk,and there in the center of the target is the arrow.

So. Stinking. Sexy.

He does it again; this time, I focus on the ripple of muscles in his back and the tension in his arms. My only exposure to archery is from my crush on Robin Hood—the cartoon fox version—but I’m quickly gaining a new appreciation.

I don’t bother checking my phone. People are watching. Hudson Brooks is magnetic. An outdoor master. And seeing him here—all powerful thighs, broad chest, dark hair blowingin the breeze—is like having a religious experience. Consider me a convert.

Whew.Okay. I can totally do this. Shaking out my arms and legs, I grab the spare bow.

“Do you want?—”

“I’ve got this, Bear,” I say with a grin, snagging an arrow from the quiver.

Isodo not have it.

To start, I can’t get the arrow on the bowstring. It keeps falling off. It takes three attempts and a stomped foot before I discover the little slit on the bottom of the non-pointy end of the arrow.

With my bow strung, I’m ready to wow him. The first arrow lands approximately two feet away from me. The second ends up behind me. And the third stops inches from Hudson’s foot, where he stands next to my phone.

“Careful, Spitfire.”

I duck my head and grab another arrow. “I need practice.”

“Practice? I think you need learning.”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” My temper flares, and I snap sharper than I mean.

Hudson narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. In a terrible impression, he throws my words back at me. “I’ve got this, Bear.”

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