Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Devin
“This is my favorite spot,” Tabby announces when we step out of the van just past a one-lane wooden bridge. We’re surrounded by mountains, stark fall colors that pop against the overcast sky, and a small but mighty rushing stream below the bridge.
This is absolute heaven.
The only thing that would make this better is a moose.
In the past four hours, I’ve seen deer, fox, a variety of birds, a small black bear, and more elk than I could possibly count.
But the one creature who’s remained elusive today is the moose.
Since we’ll be headed back to the lodge before dusk tonight, the odds of seeing my bucket list animal are slimming.
“Where is everyone else?” I ask, scanning the area for other cars or hikers but finding none.
“This is a private road,” Flynn explains, grabbing a cooler from the back of the van.
My stomach rumbles on cue. I hadn’t thought to ask Winnie if I needed to pack snacks before we left this morning.
I haven’t eaten since I swiped a snickerdoodle cookie from the check-in counter before my tour began.
“You have to have special access,” Tabby explains.
“You have special access?”
“Daddy does.”
“Are you a park ranger or something?” I ask, scanning him up and down.
I’ve never seen a park ranger who wore jeans and flannel while working.
Maybe he’s some sort of special, undercover park ranger.
Is that a real thing or something I just read in a romance novel recently?
Either way, I’d really like to find out what he’s hiding under the cover of that mountain man attire.
I bet there’s a lot of muscles and tattoos I could trace with my tongue.
“Or something,” Flynn answers, raising an eyebrow at me. As if to ask like what you see?
I turn away, only mildly embarrassed that I’ve been caught ogling him like he’s my next meal. Or maybe I could be his.
If Tabby wasn’t with us, maybe I’d be getting eaten out on the picnic table right now.
Where did that thought come from?
Fuck, I need to get laid.
Or least have an orgasm that wasn’t of the DIY version, enhanced by whatever dirty romance novel I’ m reading.
“Where’s the park ranger hat?”
“My dad and grandpa are the park rangers,” he explains. “I’m just lucky to have family access.”
“I’m going to be a park ranger one day,” Tabby announces proudly, reminding me there are little eyes watching me.
“You are?”
She nods enthusiastically, the green ribbons tied around her pigtails bopping with the movement.
She’s the most adorable, intelligent little girl I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.
The type of daughter I hope to someday have.
If ever I find a man who’s willing to make it through a whole date with me, that is.
“I thought about being a park ranger once,” I admit, slowly walking to the middle of the bridge to take a picture of the scenery I never want to forget. If the photo’s any good, I’ll blow it up and frame it on my wall.
“Why didn’t you do it?” Tabby asks.
“I became a nurse instead,” I answer with a shrug.
“You’re a nurse?” Flynn asks from below the bridge where he’s carried the cooler to a beat-up picnic table I haven’t noticed until now. The old wood blends so well with its surroundings that it’s not intrusive.
“That surprise you?”
“Just thought a nurse would know better than to wear flip-flops on a hike.”
“No one said anything about hiking,” I point out. “And in my defense, I packed for Cancun.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I think he means to mutter that last part to himself, but there’s an echo where he stands, carrying his words to me.
“I prefer the mountains,” I say. “But I wasn’t in charge of the planning.”
“My mom’s going to Cancun for her honey mood,” Tabby says.
“Honeymoon,” Flynn corrects.
It occurs to me that I didn’t consider that Flynn, father of the most adorable little girl on the planet, might be married.
Or at the very least, that he might be attached.
Just because I jokingly asked Winnie to assign me a single tour guide last night doesn’t mean Flynn is the romance novel hero I ordered.
“Why is it a moon?” Tabby asks.
“Good question,” I reply, checking my phone to see if I have any signal to Google the answer.
Two bars.
Huh, maybe this place is good luck after all.
Before I can navigate to my browser to search the origins of the word honeymoon, I notice the red bubble connected to my Facebook app. The number is surprisingly high. Because I can’t resist the curiosity, I navigate to the Are We Dating the Same Guy page to read the new comments on my post.
Jerek with a J has quite the reputation for dining and dashing, it seems.
“Miss Devin, you should put your phone away. This is a really good spot to watch for moose.”
Feeling called out, I stuff my phone in my back pocket with a promise to read all the comments tonight when I’m back in my lodge room eating local takeout and binge-watching reality TV.
“Moose like to come around here?” I ask Tabby, following her down a narrow dirt path to the picnic table.
My gaze snags on Flynn’s arms. His flannel shirt sleeves are pushed up, exposing tattoos I can’t quite make out.
I always thought it was over the top when a fictional heroine got all hot and bothered over a man with rolled up shirt sleeves. But now, I totally get it.
The very sight of Flynn’s tattooed forearms makes my nipples pebble.
If only we were alone, I’d beg the man to do some very naughty things to me on this picnic table.
“Did you know that moose can stand up to six and half feet tall?” Tabby asks, slipping into a seat and leaving room for me.
“Really?”
“That’s three inches taller than Daddy.”
Do I mind another excuse to scan Flynn Conners up and down? Nope. Not one bit. The mere sight of him causes a quiver low in my belly. Unapologetically dragging my gaze over his ripped body creates a pool of wetness between my legs.
“They can be up to a thousand pounds,” she adds, the excitement in her voice palpable.
“You know a lot about moose,” I point out.
“We learned about them in school,” she says proudly.
My gaze catches on Flynn’s expression. He’s trying to hide a smile behind a sandwich, but the pride in those whiskey-colored eyes is unmistakable. It only makes him hotter.
“When moose are mad, their ears go down,” Tabby says.
Because I was temporarily distracted ogling her deliciously rugged father, I’m not sure if I missed half of what she said or if she started in the middle of a monologue.
“It’s the only time you’ll see the whites of their eyes.
Oh, and you definitely don’t want to get between a mama and a baby moose.
They’ll flatten you like a pancake. Hey Dad, can we have pancakes next time? ”
“Next weekend,” he agrees, completely unaffected by her chattering. It’s so fucking hot. “You’ll be with your mom until then, remember? She’s taking you shopping for your dress this week.”
“I get to be a bridesmaid for my mom’s wedding,” Tabby tells me. “Have you been a bridesmaid before?”
“No,” I say, fixing myself a sandwich and discreetly noting that Flynn seems very unaffected by the mention of his ex getting married to someone else. “I was supposed to be, but…well, it’s complicated.”
“That’s what Daddy says when I ask too many questions.”
I nearly choke on my chicken salad sandwich. Flynn offers me a bottle of water, his fingers grazing mine. The electrical current from earlier this morning when I shook his hand is still there. In fact, it seems stronger now.
It’s both thrilling and terrifying.
I’ve been attracted to plenty of guys before. I’ve had super crazy crushes and experienced some pretty decent chemistry with a few. But I’ve never felt something like this.
It feels…fated.
But that could be my recent shifter romance phase talking.
Flynn’s gaze drops to his fingers as I unscrew the bottle and take a sip.
Did he feel it too?
“Daddy, what time do we have to head back?” Tabby asks.
“Your mom’s meeting us at the lodge at four,” he says, glancing at his watch. “Shit. We better wrap up and get back.”
“That’s a dollar,” Tabby says not for the first time today, holding out her hand expectantly.
“Sorry,” Flynn says to me, fishing a dollar bill out of his wallet and paying up without argument. “Normally we’d have another hour. Tabby didn’t have school today—”
“It’s fall break,” Tabby explains.
“—and I forgot to mention I needed to be back earlier than the brochure said.”
“It’s been a good tour,” I say, forcing a smile I don’t quite feel. I’m not ready to part with this delightful duo. These past few hours have felt blissfully—and oddly—normal. As though the three of us spend days together like this all the time.
I feel the familiar yearning of wanting a family, but I squash it down. I’m determined to stick to my resolution to put the search for my future husband on hold indefinitely. Right now, I just want to have some good, old-fashioned adult fun.
Since Flynn is dropping his daughter off with her mom for the rest of the weekend, maybe there’s a possibility of living out one of my many mountain man fantasies before my trip is over.
I steal a glance at Flynn as he packs up the cooler, deciding yes. I’m going to be brave and go for it just as soon as we’re alone.
After a string of bad luck when it comes to men, what do I really have to lose?