Page 60 of Ready or Knot

A rustling behind me has me checking the water and then adding the packet before grabbing drinkware from Logan’s pack. I’m returning with all four mugs when Faedra’s bright red hair pops out of the entrance of her tent. She glances around a minute, her eyebrows drawn low, and then she smiles, grabbing her shoes from where Carter moved them just to the side of the tent’s entrance. She steps out of the tent, closing the entrance and pressing her toiletry bags to her belly while I pour out enough of the coffee into my own mug and take a drink.

She freezes as she spots me, her cheeks flaring a deep red before either of us say anything.

“Good morning,” she says, and her voice has heat racing through me.

Holy fuck, this is ridiculous. The backwoods is absolutely not where we’ll be knotting.

“Good morning,” I murmur. Her blush gets even darker, and my cock takes notice.

“I’ll be right back,” she says after a moment, and I nod, taking another drink, grateful for the chance to calm my body down, adjusting my half hard dick so it’s not as obvious.

It’s not been so long that I knotted with someone that this reaction is really warranted. But fuck if my body doesn’t care in the least, the faint trace of her scent wrapping around me and making my skin ache.

Her heat is definitely close.

The crunch of her footfalls has me grabbing her mug.

“Do you want tea this morning instead of coffee?” I ask.

She murmurs a negative, and I pour the coffee into the mug and hand it to her, letting my fingers brush along hers as I pull away. Her breath hitching is its own reward.

“What’s Black Canyon?” Her question is breathless, her movements halting as she moves one of the chairs to be closer to me. Our knees brush when she sits, and she hums, leaning closer into me.

Not the question I was expecting.

“Black Canyon of the Gunnison,” I say, palming her knee, running my thumb along the edge of her thigh. “It’s a national park on the other side of the mountains here. It’s one of our favorites to hike.”

She tilts her head. “Is that the one in the photos at the condo? In Logan’s office and above his dresser?”

The twinge of jealousy is fleeting. We’re not robots. Her dynamic with each of us will be different, and I know that she’s been staying with Logan most nights the last week. I offer a nod, and she smiles.

“Carter said you guys have been doing this for over a decade,” she says, taking a drink of the coffee. She grimaces as she sets it down and walks to the packs, grabbing a packet of sugar from one of the bags. It’s clear it doesn’t quite fix the coffee for her, but she puts on a brave face anyway, finishing it in three large gulps before I can answer.

When she sets the mug beside her feet, I palm her knee again and say, “This particular event, yes. This is our 12th year, actually. But we’ve been hiking since we were sophomores in college.”

She cocks an eyebrow, her lips pursing. “So, like, twenty years now?”

I scrunch my nose. “That reminds me that we’re old ass men when you say it like that,” I say with a laugh, and she smirks.

“If the shoe fits,” she says, her tone rising at the end as she twists a finger into her hair, the comment clearly a joke. I laugh again before finishing my own coffee and setting the mug next to hers.

Her look grows thoughtful. “Was this something Iris ever did with you?”

My stomach twists, and I tighten my hold on her knee as I nod. “She loved it. She did this one with us the first two years, too. We did it as a trio.”

She bites her lip and laces her fingers with mine.

I clear my throat. “It was one of the things I found on her list, actually. She wanted to hike Denali.” Faedra squeezes my fingers.

“What did she have written for that one?” she asks after a minute.

“Not enough time,” I grunt. “It’s a dangerous hike that takes months of preparation and has a narrow window to actually attempt. She’d written that she didn’t have the time to commit for the trip.” I shake my head and rub my beard. “Carter and I would have happily dropped the cash to get out there with her. But she never asked.”

Faedra hums, tracing shapes along the back of my hand. “What about you?” she asks, looking over at me, her touch gentle. “Do you have a list? Dreams you still have?”

“I’d like to do the thru-hiking Triple Crown,” I say without hesitation. She frowns, and I clarify. “It’s a set of three thru-hikes, like what we’re doing now. You end up in a different place than you started. There’s one that spans the west coast, one that spans Appalachia, and one that goes up the heart of the Rockies.”

“Those must be long,” she says, and I laugh.

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