Page 12 of Burly and Rugged

I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. If only she knew. “Never. Now you take a step, then look back at how your footprint looks.”

We keep moving and I show her more examples—the bend of grass where someone knelt, the subtle drag of a toe print in the dirt, a snapped twig that indicates the direction someone was going.

Lindy does more than keep up—she’s an inquisitive student with a sharp mind. She watches closely, asks the right questions, and connects the dots faster than most people. I find myself proud of the way she mimics what I show her, but with a kind of instinct that’s rare in beginners.

My chest tightens in an unexpected way. What would it take to win over a woman like her?

It’s not just the way she looks—it’s the way she listens. The way she absorbs everything and figures things out, determined to master what she turns her focus to. To say that I’m impressed by Lindy is a massive understatement.

She’s got dirt smudged on her cheek, a streak near her temple where she must’ve brushed her hair back earlier. She’s so damn pretty.

I let out a slow breath, rolling the tension from my shoulders.

A few minutes later, I step forward, motioning toward another faint track in the mud. “Look at the angle here,” I say, pointing to the slight curve of the print.

Lindy leans in, eyes locked on the dirt, focused and determined. “Someone turned sharply here,” she murmurs.

“Good. What does that tell you?”

She bites her lip, thinking. “They changed direction fast. Maybe they heard something?”

I nod, watching her. “Could be.”

She lifts her head, still kneeling in the dirt. “You get a lot of hunters out here?”

I crouch beside her, my knee barely brushing against hers. “Not as many as you’d think. But animals do the same thing. Shift direction when they catch wind of something. Smell. Movement. If you know what to look for, you can track anything. Come on. Let’s test what you’ve learned.”

I lead her through the woods, making sure to take a roundabout path.

We reach a small clearing, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in patches, casting long, golden streaks over the damp ground. It looks like every other part of the forest—trees, rocks, a few fallen branches.

Which is exactly why I picked it.

“Okay. So today’s exercise will be for you to try to track me. I’m going to head back to where we camped last night. I’ll take a different path than the one we came up on, so be sure to follow the new path, not the one with both our footprints.”

Lindy takes a deep breath and nods. “Ready when you are.”

I pull the bandana from my pocket and toss it to her. “Good. Put this on.”

She catches it, frowning. “Seriously?”

“Trust me.”

She hesitates, her fingers tightening around the fabric, then exhales and ties it over her eyes.

The sight of her standing there, blindfolded, waiting, completely trusting me—it sends a bolt of lust straight to my cock. An immediate vision of her in bed, blindfolded, overwhelms me. Taking my time and teasing her, slow touches, exploring her with my mouth, making her ache for me to take her.

Focus, man.

I take a slow step back. Then another. Then five.

“Stand still,” I say, my voice clear. “Count to five hundred, then take off the blindfold. If you get lost, you can try to backtrack. If you get fully lost or injured, use the emergency whistle in your pack. Camp isn’t that far away, so I will hear it. The whistle is easily accessible, right?”

She nods, adjusting her stance slightly. Her lips part just a little as she takes a slow breath. Every fiber of my being wants to kiss her mouth and see if she tastes as delicious as she looks.

Without another word, I slip silently into the trees and head back to our camp.

I don’t just want to see if she can find her way back.

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