Page 6 of Speed Dating the Mountain Man

I clear my throat, grateful for the distraction. "Clearwater Falls. It's a nice, easy trail. Good for beginners."

"Beginners, huh?" She grins. "So you think I can't handle a real hike?"

I glance at her, raising an eyebrow. "Never said that. Just thought we'd start with something simple."

She laughs, and the sound sends blood straight to my dick. "I'm just teasing, Aaron. I'm sure whatever you've picked will be perfect."

Perfect. The word echoes in my head as we drive, the road winding through the mountains. Nothing about this feels perfectto me. It feels like I'm stepping into quicksand. Like I'm letting myself get pulled into something I'm not ready for.

But every time I glance at Rena, see the excitement on her face, the way she's taking in the scenery with wide, wonder-filled eyes... I can't bring myself to regret it. Even if I'm in over my head, even if I have no idea what I'm doing, I can't deny that being with her feels... right.

5

RENA

Ican't seem to stop talking as we set off on the trail, pointing out every flower and tree I recognize. "Oh, look at that beautiful, um, pine tree! And those wildflowers are so lovely. I think they're called... something with an 'M'? Or maybe a 'D'?"

Aaron nods, his eyes scanning the trail ahead. "They're columbines."

My cheeks burn. I'm pretty sure I just called a spruce a pine, and I knew what those blue flowers were. Why can't I just shut up? It's like my mouth has a mind of its own, spewing out random nature facts that are probably all wrong.

I glance over at Aaron, trying to gauge his reaction. His face is unreadable, his jaw set in that brooding way that makes my stomach flutter. Is he regretting agreeing to this hike? Maybe he's wishing he was out here alone, without some chatty girl who doesn't know a daisy from a daffodil.

"So, um, how long have you been a wilderness guide?" I ask, desperate to change the subject from my lack of botanical knowledge.

"About eight years."

"Wow, that's a long time. You must really love it out here." I smile at him, but he just shrugs.

"It's a job."

Okay, so much for that conversation starter. I thought he'd be more open after we got along so well on our coffee date.

We lapse into silence, the only sounds our footsteps on the dirt path and the occasional bird call. I can't help but sneak glances at Aaron as we walk, admiring how his muscular legs move in his hiking pants and how his broad shoulders fill out his green flannel shirt.

Even if he's not the most talkative hiking companion, I could stare at him all day. Is that creepy? Probably. I force my eyes back to the trail, trying to think of something else to say that won't make me sound like a total idiot.

While trying to will some kind of nature knowledge into my mind, we emerge from the trees into a clearing, and my breath catches in my throat. Before us, a waterfall cascades down a rocky cliff face, the spray creating a misty rainbow in the sunlight. I've lived in Heartwood for three years and have never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Wow," I breathe, turning to Aaron with a grin. "This is incredible."

To my surprise, he smiles back, a real smile that reaches his eyes. "I thought you might like it." He shrugs off his backpack and starts rummaging through it. "I, uh, brought some lunch. If you're hungry."

My heart skips as he pulls out sandwiches and fruit, spreading them out on a flat rock. He packed a picnic? For me? Maybe his silence on the hike wasn't because he regretted this after all.

We sit down to eat, the roar of the waterfall a soothing background noise. As I take a bite of my sandwich, I decide to take a chance and open up a little.

"You know, ever since I was a kid, I've dreamed of being a writer," I confess. "I used to scribble stories in my notebooks instead of paying attention in class."

Aaron raises an eyebrow, looking at me with new interest. "Yeah? What kind of stories do you like to read?"

I shrug, feeling a little self-conscious. "All kinds. But I always return to the classics: Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, Dickens. There's just something about how they wrote that feels so..." I trail off, searching for the right word.

"Timeless," Aaron finishes, and I look at him in surprise. He gives me a sheepish grin. "I might have read a few of those myself."

"Really?" I can't hide my delight. "I never would have guessed you were a literature buff."

"I'm full of surprises," he says, his blue eyes twinkling.

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