Page 319 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“I hear you trying to make my following you in the early hours of morning sound creepy.”
“I am. And it does.”
I gather her in my arms. “But me following you down that trail was probably the best decision I’ve ever made.” I kiss her. “It was our turning point, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I lean in, brushing my lips against hers in a soft and lingering kiss.
“I could get used to this.” Her voice is a little breathless, like our closeness takes her breath away.
What a fucking turn on.
“Good. I plan on keeping you around for a long time.” I tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear.
Moments without her wearing her hat feel like this intimate time she only shares with me.
I fucking love it.
I fucking love her.
“I’m glad to hear that, because that means you have time to win this scavenger hunt.”
“I’m not happy about it,” I gowl.
Her laughter eases my frustration. “I don’t believe you. Come on.”
The hunt is on, and I’m half in it, holding her hand, as we head deeper into the campground, and further away from the campsites.
Her flashlight swings low, casting long, dancing shadows on the ground. I feel her grip tighten between our laced fingers as we walk. She’s excited and still going as strong as our siblings after our long day. She’s incredible. This is less about the challenge for me and more about just being here, in the quiet of the night with her.
“I wonder what classifies as weird.” Her voice breaks the silence.
“I’m not sure. I guess it’s gotta be something that feels out of place, right? Not just a random pinecone.”
“Something like that?” Her light stops on a sock tangled at the base of a bush.
A plain, mismatched, slightly crumpled, and dirty abandoned sock.
She crouches down to inspect it. “It looks like it’s been here for a while.”
It looks stained, ripped at the toe, and disgusting.
She glances at me. “You pick it up.”
I shake my head. “Not a chance.” I stick my hands in the pockets of my jeans, and roll back on the heel of my boots.
She laughs low, standing up. “Yeah, I’m not touching it either.”
“Who knows how long that thing has been out here or what it’s been used for?”
She raises her eyebrows at me. “My guess would be a foot.”
I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “You didn’t grow up watching American Pie with my brothers, did you?”
She shrugs, the gleam in her eye telling me she’s not that innocent.
“Maybe I need to catch you up on classics.”
“I’ve seen enough to have a pretty good idea of what happens to socks. You’ve officially ruined lonely single socks lost in the woods to me.”
