Page 11 of Burly and Rugged

I slide my hands away, my fingers grazing the edge of his thigh before I zip the bottom of his pant leg back on. His breath catches.

When I finally lift my gaze, his dark eyes are locked onto me, his expression unreadable. My pulse pounds, my fingertips still tingling from touching him. This isn’t exactly how I thought kneeling in front of Cody would be, but I’m not sad about it. I like that I’m able to help him.

I swallow hard, my breath shaky. “That should hold for now. Do you need a painkiller?”

Cody exhales, his fingers flexing against his thigh before he nods. “Yeah. I have some in the front pocket of my pack. Thanks.” His voice is rougher than before.

He gently runs his fingers over his knee. When he looks up, his gaze lingers a little too long.

“I’ll get a fire going and make us some coffee,” I say. I need something to do because if I keep touching him, it’s going to move rapidly from “let me help you because you’re injured” to “let me explore your body…naked” and I know it’s foolish to dream like that.

Maybe he feels the heat between us, too, or maybe he doesn’t. It’s foolish of me to fantasize about him, but damn if I can—or evenwant—to stop.

“You don’t have to take care of me,” Cody protests, but I glance at him and silence him with a look. He didn’t even make it to his feet before he was wincing in pain.

“Yes!” I exclaim, pumping my fist when I get the fire started in one try. One try! I turn to Cody. He’s smiling, and it warms me in so many ways.

He winces again as he shifts his weight. “Good job, Lindy. You’re picking up on everything quickly—and I’m not just saying that. You’re a natural out here.”

I beam at Cody, his praise making every atom of my body wake up and sparkle with pride. As the water for coffee heats up and I get the metal mugs ready, I wonder what his injury means for the rest of this week.

One thing is for certain, though. I don’t want to cut my time with Cody short.

CHAPTER 6

CODY

Itest the movement in my knee, flexing it carefully. The ache is still there, a dull throb buried deep in the joint, but it’s better than yesterday. The bandage keeps it stable, the swelling is down, and the stiffness will ease up as the day goes on. But I know better than to push my luck. The more my knee craps out on me, the closer I come to needing surgery again.

I watch Lindy as she prepares for the day. She’s focused as she finishes packing up, slings the backpack on her shoulders, and tightens the straps. You wouldn’t look at her and think she was new to this.

I adjust my pack and shift my weight to my good leg. “We’re changing things up.”

She pauses, turning toward me, her brows pulling together. “You said today was supposed to be—”

“I know,” I interrupt, keeping my tone even. “But my knee says otherwise.”

Her gaze flicks to my leg. She doesn’t argue, but I see the flicker of hesitation in the way her mouth presses together. After a beat, she nods. “What’s the plan, then?”

“Tracking,” I say simply.

Her eyebrows lift. “Like tracking people?”

“Yes. But also finding your way back if you get turned around.”

We step into a clearing, the ground soft after the recent rain. Sunlight breaks through the canopy in streaks, promising better weather for today, which is good because the last thing I fucking need is to go sliding through some mud and seriously hurt my knee.

I crouch down, brushing my fingers lightly over a patch of disturbed dirt. The ground is a mix of mud and dried debris, boot prints barely visible against the shifting soil. A faint indentation—deep in the heel, partially overlapped by another impression.

“See this?” I motion for Lindy to kneel beside me. She does, moving closer than I expect, the heat of her body brushing against my arm.

I focus on the ground, not on the way her hair falls over her shoulder, the sunlight making her hair look like molten gold.

She studies the tracks, her brows furrowing slightly. “Footprint. Heavy heel.” She pauses, tilting her head. “That means…someone was carrying weight? Or it was a big person, like a man?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Good job.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a smile on her full lips. “You sound surprised. Are you underestimating me?”

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