Page 84 of Second Chance Savior

My brow wrinkled as I glanced at him. “What?”

“During the video call. You introduced yourself as Charlie.”

“Oh. I did.” I shrugged. “Guess I don’t mind the nickname so much anymore.”

“Only took twenty years of protesting for you to decide you liked it after all?”

“Didn’t say I liked it. I said I don’t mind it. Idomind Charlie-baby.”

Snickering, River touched my arm. “Hey.”

I stopped walking and turned to him. He gave me a soft kiss.

“I’ve always called you Charlie because it’s a way to be closer to you. Something that was just ours.” He brushed the back of his finger down my cheek. “Even when I couldn’t have you.”

Ugh, why did he have to say things like that? River’s sincerity broke down every barrier I tried to keep against him. The last scraps of my annoyance fled, replaced by flutters in my chest and stomach.

I pressed another kiss to his mouth. “River, I… Thanks for doing this with me. Going to my parents’ house.”

“You were pretty insistent. And made quite a few good points.”

“But you can be stubborn too. You could’ve refused.”

He stepped in close enough to whisper in my ear. “That’s one more of my secrets. You’ve always been my weakness. I can’t deny you for long, no matter how hard I try.”

While I stood speechless at his latest confession, River continued onward.

We’d hiked five miles when the first strains of thunder rolled overhead. Ominous dark clouds had been following us for the last half hour. “We should stop for the night,” I said.

“Agreed.”

We had to set up camp before the rain started. Also, my quads and feet were killing me.

We kept going until we reached a clearing with a babbling creek on one side and a stretch of flat ground covered in soft meadow grass on the other. I groaned as I wiggled out of my pack and dropped it at my feet.

The air smelled like rain and pine, and I greedily pulled it into my lungs, feeling calm wash over me. We were getting close to home, and I felt it. How long had it been since my last trip to see my parents at their house? At least eight months.

I glanced over at River, who was unpacking the tent and other supplies. “How can I help?” I asked.

“You can get settled. This will just take me a couple of minutes. I brought my slightly bigger tent, but it’s still only meant for one person. It’s going to be cozy in there.”

“What a hardship. I’m sure we can manage.”

“I have a few ideas for how we can fit.”

That thought made desire fill me with warmth, and I was already overheated. I needed to clean up. I was sweaty and dirty from the hike.

I went over to the creek, stripping off my hat and my shirt on the way. Then my boots and socks, groaning again as I wiggled my toes. I stepped onto a rock and bent down to splash my face. The creek water was icy and refreshing. Goosebumps spread over my skin.

When I glanced at the bank, River was there. He’d pulled off his shirt and shoes. But he was watching me more than he was cleaning up.

“You’re staring,” I said.

“Yep. So are you.” Slowly, he crouched to scrub creek water over his face and in his hair. His chest. My eyes traced every droplet that cascaded over his body.

Thunder rumbled again. A few cold raindrops landed on my shoulders.

River stood, pushing his hair from his forehead. His backarched as he stretched. “Not the first time we’ve been caught in the rain together.”

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