Page 25 of Beautifully Wild

We’re in the middle of nowhere. I shoot him a blank look. I thought he was staying at the resort.

“The path here leads to the beach. Would you like to take a stroll with me so we can chat?”

The resort must be at least a half-hour drive away. “Walk?”

He nods, then stands. He holds up a finger at the guide.

“I don’t know you?” I rasp.

“I’ll answer your questions as best I can if you come with me.”

I stand, ignoring my father’s voice in the back of my head, and allow my gut instinct to guide me. Generally, it’s on point, and I hope this is a time when my intuition doesn’t let me down.

The bus slows, and we both walk the aisle. When we reach the guide, he places a mark beside our names on his notepad.

While we wait for the bus to pull to a stop, I reach for my phone and send Yasmine a message.

Eden:I’m with Samuel.

Samuel McMahon.

Can you google him? He studied at Stanford.

We’re taking a walk along the beach. See you later!

Before stepping off the bus, I shoot a look toward our guide, hoping he’ll remember my face.

Here goes nothing.

When the bus pulls away, I’m met with unruly green overgrowth on both sides of the narrow road.

“Where are we?”

“Not far out of town,” he says before we turn onto a dirt path wide enough for a car to navigate despite the green wall of the forest threatening to swallow it up. Apart from the blue strip of sky directly above us, the forest walls impede vision, so I see nothing else.

“Is this someone’s land?” Hell, you’d never find a body here. The way the plant life grows, you’d swear it rained steroids.

“It is. I met the owner several years back. He doesn’t mind people using this track to the beach so long as you don’t trash it.”

“Trash it? I think it would win. Digest anything you threw at it.”

He chuckles lightly, and damn, it ignites a beautiful emotion deep in my chest.

He picks up a piece of dead wood and smacks the overgrowth, allowing us to pass with ease. The vines are literally freaking me out as I’m torn between second-guessing my decision and simultaneously looking out for snakes and spiders.

“How long is the walk back?”

“Three hours.”

What? I glance at my Fitbit. “It will be dark before we get to the resort.”

He nods, then directs me to the right when the path forks. The path is narrower, and at times, branches and vines block it. Samuel pins down wayward stems for me to squeeze past. I can hear the ocean, and it’s enough to calm my thoughts because the notion of being trapped in this overgrowth is beyond unsettling.

Every time I brush past him, warmth envelops me, melting my fear. This time his eyes connect with mine as I slide past.

“Wait up,” he says, smiling. Naturally, I smile back because one thing I’ve learned is Samuel rarely smiles. “I want to watch your reaction.”

“My what?”

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