Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
CODY
I test the movement in my knee, flexing it carefully. The ache is still there, a dull throb buried deep in the joint, but it’s better than yesterday. The bandage keeps it stable, the swelling is down, and the stiffness will ease up as the day goes on. But I know better than to push my luck. The more my knee craps out on me, the closer I come to needing surgery again.
I watch Lindy as she prepares for the day. She’s focused as she finishes packing up, slings the backpack on her shoulders, and tightens the straps. You wouldn’t look at her and think she was new to this.
I adjust my pack and shift my weight to my good leg. “We’re changing things up.”
She pauses, turning toward me, her brows pulling together. “You said today was supposed to be—”
“I know,” I interrupt, keeping my tone even. “But my knee says otherwise.”
Her gaze flicks to my leg. She doesn’t argue, but I see the flicker of hesitation in the way her mouth presses together. After a beat, she nods. “What’s the plan, then?”
“Tracking,” I say simply.
Her eyebrows lift. “Like tracking people?”
“Yes. But also finding your way back if you get turned around.”
We step into a clearing, the ground soft after the recent rain. Sunlight breaks through the canopy in streaks, promising better weather for today, which is good because the last thing I fucking need is to go sliding through some mud and seriously hurt my knee.
I crouch down, brushing my fingers lightly over a patch of disturbed dirt. The ground is a mix of mud and dried debris, boot prints barely visible against the shifting soil. A faint indentation—deep in the heel, partially overlapped by another impression.
“See this?” I motion for Lindy to kneel beside me. She does, moving closer than I expect, the heat of her body brushing against my arm.
I focus on the ground, not on the way her hair falls over her shoulder, the sunlight making her hair look like molten gold.
She studies the tracks, her brows furrowing slightly. “Footprint. Heavy heel.” She pauses, tilting her head. “That means…someone was carrying weight? Or it was a big person, like a man?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Good job.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, but there’s a smile on her full lips. “You sound surprised. Are you underestimating me?”
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head. If only she knew. “Never. Now you take a step, then look back at how your footprint looks.”
We keep moving and I show her more examples—the bend of grass where someone knelt, the subtle drag of a toe print in the dirt, a snapped twig that indicates the direction someone was going.
Lindy does more than keep up—she’s an inquisitive student with a sharp mind. She watches closely, asks the right questions, and connects the dots faster than most people. I find myself proud of the way she mimics what I show her, but with a kind of instinct that’s rare in beginners.
My chest tightens in an unexpected way. What would it take to win over a woman like her?
It’s not just the way she looks—it’s the way she listens. The way she absorbs everything and figures things out, determined to master what she turns her focus to. To say that I’m impressed by Lindy is a massive understatement.
She’s got dirt smudged on her cheek, a streak near her temple where she must’ve brushed her hair back earlier. She’s so damn pretty.
I let out a slow breath, rolling the tension from my shoulders.
A few minutes later, I step forward, motioning toward another faint track in the mud. “Look at the angle here,” I say, pointing to the slight curve of the print.
Lindy leans in, eyes locked on the dirt, focused and determined. “Someone turned sharply here,” she murmurs.
“Good. What does that tell you?”
She bites her lip, thinking. “They changed direction fast. Maybe they heard something?”
I nod, watching her. “Could be.”
She lifts her head, still kneeling in the dirt. “You get a lot of hunters out here?”
I crouch beside her, my knee barely brushing against hers. “Not as many as you’d think. But animals do the same thing. Shift direction when they catch wind of something. Smell. Movement. If you know what to look for, you can track anything. Come on. Let’s test what you’ve learned.”
I lead her through the woods, making sure to take a roundabout path.
We reach a small clearing, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in patches, casting long, golden streaks over the damp ground. It looks like every other part of the forest—trees, rocks, a few fallen branches.
Which is exactly why I picked it.
“Okay. So today’s exercise will be for you to try to track me. I’m going to head back to where we camped last night. I’ll take a different path than the one we came up on, so be sure to follow the new path, not the one with both our footprints.”
Lindy takes a deep breath and nods. “Ready when you are.”
I pull the bandana from my pocket and toss it to her. “Good. Put this on.”
She catches it, frowning. “Seriously?”
“Trust me.”
She hesitates, her fingers tightening around the fabric, then exhales and ties it over her eyes.
The sight of her standing there, blindfolded, waiting, completely trusting me—it sends a bolt of lust straight to my cock. An immediate vision of her in bed, blindfolded, overwhelms me. Taking my time and teasing her, slow touches, exploring her with my mouth, making her ache for me to take her.
Focus, man .
I take a slow step back. Then another. Then five.
“Stand still,” I say, my voice clear. “Count to five hundred, then take off the blindfold. If you get lost, you can try to backtrack. If you get fully lost or injured, use the emergency whistle in your pack. Camp isn’t that far away, so I will hear it. The whistle is easily accessible, right?”
She nods, adjusting her stance slightly. Her lips part just a little as she takes a slow breath. Every fiber of my being wants to kiss her mouth and see if she tastes as delicious as she looks.
Without another word, I slip silently into the trees and head back to our camp.
I don’t just want to see if she can find her way back.
I want to see if she’ll find her way back to me.