Page 22 of Bear In A Boutique
No kittens, Olive.
“No kittens,” she whispered.
“Did you say… no kittens?”
She’d said that out loud? “No. You’re hearing things.”
Needing to put space between them, she walked to her backpack and slipped the straps on her shoulders. He followed suit and met her at the trapdoor. Olive unlatched the door and flung it open. Fear razored down her spine at the bottomless view below. Coming up was so much easier than going down would be.
“I’ll hold you steady while you find your footing on the top rung.” Ryker crouched next to her and held her arm while she lowered herself onto the first step. One foot, then the other. She grabbed the handrail and willed herself not to look down.
“I’m good, I’m good.” She went down a few steps, and feeling more confident, kept going at a steady pace.
The trapdoor slammed into place and Ryker’s footfalls sounded above her. She glanced up and got a full view of Ryker’s perfect ass. Faltering, she gripped the handrails with a death grip and pulled herself together. Don’t look up; don’t look down. Just keep going. She’d barely made progress when it started to rain, lightly at first, and then in full force as a torrent quickly drenched her body.
Forced to slow her pace, Olive focused on each foot placement to ensure her boots didn’t slip off the rungs. At this rate, she’d never make her appointment. They still had a mile-and-a-half hike to the vehicles.
Her hair and clothing were soaked by the time her feet finally hit the ground. Wiping water from her face, she squinted to watch Ryker clear the last rungs, his hair a dark sheet plastered to his head.
Olive thumbed behind her, yelling over the pound of the rain. “How are we getting down the incline?”
“On your butt. Sit, scoot, slide, repeat. Be careful not to dislodge a log on your way down.”
Ryker moved in front of her, rivulets running off his hair, and lowered himself to the ground. He scooted to the first step, cleared the log, then slid forward. Reaching for her hand, he supported her as she got on her butt and followed suit. Mud oozed through her pants, plastering the fabric to her skin.
“I don’t think I’ll be looking at the van tonight.”
“You’re buying a van?”
“Maybe. It’s a camper van, and the dealer is letting me take it for a few days to test it out.”
Scoot, slide, squish.
“Planning on becoming a van lifer?”
“Something like that.”
If she lost her apartment, then yes, and she wanted to be prepared. The van was expensive but more affordable than renting, and if it worked out, she could use it to stay in Colorado.
Olive braced herself for the next slide down, the heels of her palms pressing against the log at the front of the step. She quickly moved her hands, but the ground shifted, and the log gave way. Olive lurched forward with a yell, sliding through the drenched earth like a toboggan in snow. Digging her fingernailsinto the soil, she tried desperately to slow herself, but she couldn’t.
She bounced over another step, dislodging that log, too, and plowed into Ryker’s back, knocking him off his step and propelling him on his ass-slide down the incline. He grabbed a log, but it broke free in his grip. He zinged down, down, down, landing with a huge splash at the bottom. A wave of muddy water rose to meet her as Olive slammed into him again and came to a stop in a giant puddle.
Stunned, she lay there for a second, the rain pounding her face and something heavy on top of her. “Ryker? Oh, God, I’m so sorry!”
Whisking water and mud from her eyes, she blinked to clear her vision and looked into his mud-coated face, the blaze of his eyes the only visible feature. They were facing each other, his leg thrown over her hips, pinning her to the ground.
Ryker groaned. “Fuck.”
“Are you okay?”
Wincing, he ran his hands over his face. “What did I say about the logs?”
“It was an accident.”
He rolled onto his back. Olive flew forward and landed on top of him, her backpack pulling to the side as if it were stuck. Ryker lifted his right arm. The strap of her backpack had looped over his arm in the fall, binding them together. His chest rose and fell hard, each breath rising and falling against her chest. Every part of her was cold except her chest and belly where their bodies met. He was so warm and solid. Unable to help herself, she ran a finger over his cheek and drew a little heart in the mud. His eyes were so bright against the unintentional facial. It was comical, and she was doing her best not to laugh.
But it was hard.
