Chapter Twenty-Two
Carson
The sun wasn’t up yet when I walked into the lodge’s main hall, but the woodstove was crackling, coffee was already brewing, and there was a sense of movement in the air that only came on trip days. It was anticipation layered with nerves. Mine were worse than usual.
I’d barely slept. Not for lack of trying.
But when your last conscious memory is of kissing someone with the kind of hunger you’d promised yourself you’d never feel again, sleep wasn’t exactly generous.
Every moment we stole away, our lips were on each other.
But I was proud of the fact that it stayed there.
We were pacing ourselves. We weren’t being professional, but we were at least being cautious. Kisses were good. They were harmless.
I pushed the door shut behind me, willing myself into guide mode.
Professional.
Levelheaded.
Focused.
Except as soon as I stepped into the hall, I caught sight of Sienna crouched beside the welcome board taping up the Butterfields’ itinerary, and all that focus evaporated.
She wore a dark green fleece shirt, fitted hiking pants, and boots she’d clearly broken in over a lifetime.
Her hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, wisps escaping everywhere like she’d argued with them and lost. When she looked at me, a soft flush rose on her cheeks, one that probably mirrored my own reaction.
This was going to be a long day.
“Morning,” she said, rising to her feet.
She sounded casual. Almost too casual. Like she’d practiced it in the mirror.
“Morning,” I replied.
Our eyes lingered longer than they should have.
We both realized it and looked away at the same time.
Professional.
Right.
I cleared my throat. “They should be here in ten minutes.”
“Yep.” She tugged on the corner of the itinerary to straighten it. “Ready?”
“I think so.”
A lie.
Her lips twitched like she heard the hesitation.
We walked to the coffee station. I pretended to read the label on a thermos I’d already memorized. She pretended not to watch me.
The silence between us wasn’t cold, but it was charged like the entire lodge was waiting to see which of us would trip first.
The front door swung open.
A blast of crisp, early-morning air swept into the hall, and in walked a couple dressed head to toe in coordinated hiking gear. She wore a bright red beanie and a matching scarf. He wore a black soft-shell jacket with a grin that suggested he hadn’t stopped smiling since their wedding.
“You must be the Harpers!” the man said warmly.
I blinked.
Sienna blinked.
She recovered one second faster. “Oh! Um. Actually—”
But the woman clapped her hands together, eyes sparkling. “I’m so glad we booked with you guys. It’s great to have another couple guiding us. This is going to be so fun. Isn’t it, Jake?”
Jake nodded enthusiastically. “This is going to be epic.”
Sienna made a sound that could only be described as a strangled cough. They thought we were together.
I had no idea what expression my face was making, but it wasn’t reassuring.
I felt heat climbing up my neck. “We’re—well—we’re actually…”
The woman laughed. “We might be a tad hungover from our reception two nights ago, but we’ve rallied the best we can.”
Sienna snorted, and I choked.
Nothing better than guiding a couple of city slickers getting over the brown bottle flu a couple of miles journey to a campsite. Thank goodness they didn’t book a complicated trip up north, where caverns and rivers actually offered some obstacles.
Jake stepped forward and shook my hand with the grip of a golden retriever in human form. “Jake Butterfield. This is my wife, Emma. We’re so excited.”
“Great to meet you,” I managed.
Sienna stepped forward to greet Emma and tripped. I caught her elbow, and Emma smiled wider.
“You two are adorable,” Emma whispered loudly into Sienna’s ear. “Are you newlyweds too?”
Sienna’s eyes went wide with panic.
I swallowed a laugh I absolutely shouldn’t have felt rising.
She shot me a death glare, and I raised my hands in innocence.
We should have corrected them, but the longer the moment stretched, the more impossible it became to redirect.
“Let’s, uh…” Sienna gestured vaguely toward the gear shed. “Let’s start with the equipment overview.”
Emma beamed. “Lead the way, Mrs. Harper!”
Sienna made a noise that might have been a prayer or a threat.
I stepped beside her as the couple walked ahead.
“You okay, dear?” I murmured under my breath.
She elbowed me in the ribs.
Hard.
I deserved it, but the warmth blooming in my chest was dangerously satisfying.
We gathered outside under the grey-blue morning sky.
Frost kissed the grass, but the air wasn’t biting anymore.
The forecast said high forties, possibly low fifties, unusually warm for this time of year.
Overnight temperatures had hovered in the mid-thirties, which made the whole trip feel infinitely more comfortable.
“Lucky timing,” I said, sliding open the gear shed door. “Weather’s warming up.”
“Perfect adventure temperatures,” Emma agreed, bouncing lightly on her toes.
Sienna handed her and Jake each a gear bag. “If it gets uncomfortable, remember, we’re only four or five miles from the lodge. This adventure is designed to be flexible. If you’re miserable, we head back. No shame in that.”
Jake grinned. “We’re not quitters.”
Emma nudged him. “Speak for yourself. I fully reserve the right to bail if the wildlife looks at me wrong.”
Sienna laughed an easy, warm sound, and something in me tightened.
She was good at this.
Confident.
Effortless.
She was steady in a way I hadn’t expected, at least not emotionally.
The contrast between her yesterday, flushed, kissing me like she wanted to swallow the stars, and her today, all bright, inviting, and effortlessly in control, nearly knocked me off balance.
She caught me watching and quickly looked away, biting back a smile.
Professional.
We were supposed to be professional.
“Okay,” I said, hauling a dry bag toward the Polaris ATV. “Let’s load up.”
The honeymooners followed us, chatting the whole time, telling us where they met.
College hiking club.
How they loved the same food.
All things Italian and cheesy.
Meanwhile, Sienna checked their water systems, secured straps, and double-checked fuel supply while I arranged the packs efficiently.
We met at the rear of the Polaris at the same second, both reaching for the final bag.
Sienna’s and my hands brushed, which made my pulse trip and her breath catch.
I saw it.
She felt it.
We both pretended otherwise.
Jake smiled at us like we were the poster children for outdoor marital bliss. “You two work together so well. How long have you been married?”
Sienna dropped the bag on her foot, and I almost choked.
“Uh—” she sputtered. “We’re not…”
“I always say when things are this perfect, why count?” I said smoothly, stepping in before Sienna imploded.
Her head whipped toward me, and my mouth twitched.
Sienna’s face turned scarlet. “Right. Well. We should… focus. And, um. Go.”
She marched to the driver’s seat of the Polaris before she burst into flames.
I took the passenger seat beside her while the honeymooners settled in the back, buckled into the bench seats. Emma snapped a selfie with all of us before I even had time to brace myself.
Sienna groaned quietly, while I bit back a laugh.
The Polaris rumbled to life under Sienna’s hands. The gravel crunched beneath the tires as we headed down the wooded trail toward the mountains, frost glinting on pine needles, the air crisp and clean.
For the first mile, the honeymooners chatted excitedly behind us about their favorite trails around the Midwest, gear recommendations, and the itinerary.
It gave me time to breathe and time to watch Sienna without her noticing.
Her braid swung lightly over her shoulder. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel with confident ease. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold. And when she smiled at something Emma said, the corners of her eyes crinkled in a way I hadn’t noticed before.
I shouldn’t have stared, but I did, and she caught me the third time.
Her voice dipped low. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you remember every stupid thing we said and did last night.”
I looked back at the trail. “We made rules, didn’t we?”
“We did.”
“And we’re following them?”
“Mostly.”
The air between us warmed in all the places it shouldn’t.
Another mile passed, and the trees parted enough to show the rising sun painting gold over frost-nipped pines.
Ahead, the trail narrowed to our turnoff.
“Here,” she said softly. “We start the footpath up ahead.”
“You’re doing great.”
She smiled and took in a deep breath. “I know a thing or two about this place.”
The Polaris slowed to a stop beneath a lanky old pine. Birds scattered overhead, wings slicing the chilly air.
The honeymooners hopped out, energized and ready to go.
Sienna stepped off the Polaris and slung her pack over her shoulder, and I did the same, tightening the straps before we helped the guests who were entranced with each other.
“You ready for the hike? It’s a short one,” she explained to the couple.
“That’s why we chose it,” Emma said, chuckling and hopping out of the vehicle. “Short and sweet. Get some air and exercise and snap some good photos.”
The couple grabbed the gear as Sienna smiled, and our eyes met again.
And everything stopped.
No noise.
No guests.
No rules.
Just her.
Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
“I hate to bring this up, but I have to tinkle,” Emma said. “Is there a good spot for that?”
They were definitely from the city.
Sienna’s brows rose. “Any tree that looks wide enough to act like a wall, but, being that we specialize in skinny trees here, it can be tough.”
“Uh, right.” Emma nodded as Sienna dug into a bag and tossed the guest some toilet paper as they both wandered off. “I’ll be right back.”
Sienna’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Carson… if this trip is even half as complicated as the past few days, I swear—”
I dipped my head closer. “We’ll handle it.”
“I’m not sure we can.”
“We can,” I said. “I promise.”
She looked up at me, searching my face for something like assurance or steadiness, maybe even the piece of me I’d been holding back.
“Carson…” Her voice trembled just enough to undo me. “I don’t want to mess things up. We have an entire spring and summer to work together.”
She was getting cold feet, only it wasn’t for our wedding. It was for our guide trips.
“You won’t,” I assured her. “We won’t.”
She swallowed. “What if I already have?”
And in that tiny, quiet crack of vulnerability…
I lost every ounce of control I thought I had.
I stepped forward, cupped her jaw gently with one hand, and kissed her.
It was slow at first, barely there. It could have counted as a peck.
But she leaned in, and the kiss changed.
The kiss deepened, growing hungry with heat and need, with the kind of connection that made the entire forest go quiet.
She pressed a hand to my chest, breathing hard against my mouth. My other hand slid to her waist, pulling her into me like I couldn’t help it, which was the truth.
When we finally broke apart, our breaths were visible in the cool air between us.
“We’re terrible at rules,” she whispered, breath shaking.
“Completely hopeless,” I murmured.
Behind us, Emma’s voice carried lightly.
“Awwwwwww! So sweet!”
We jumped apart like guilty teenagers.
Sienna turned beet red.
I coughed into my sleeve.
Sienna glared at the sky and whispered. “Why me?”
I adjusted my pack, fighting a grin. “Because the universe has a sense of humor.”
She elbowed me, and I didn’t complain because for the first time in a long time…
It felt like something real, something dangerous, and something impossible might be waiting for me, and I wanted more.