13. Caden
CHAPTER 13
Caden
“Mmmmm,” Millie moans, taking a bite out of the brownie slice she just spent twenty minutes waiting in line for. “This is soooo good.”
“How much you pay for that?” I know for a fact Ingrid Teahouse uses the same supplier as we do, but somehow, they get away with slapping an exorbitant price tag on everything.
“Five dollars.” Chocolate crumbs dust the creases around her mouth as she chews with her mouth full. “And it’s the best five dollars I’ve ever spent.”
Listening to this girl make noises like that over a square of overpriced chocolate might be the death of me.
I can’t stand here for a minute longer.
“I’ll be at the lake,” I snort, leaving her to have her foodgasm in private.
Lake Ingrid is mesmerizing, the type of place that never gets old, no matter how many times you visit. I don’t come up here often, but that’s less to do with the beauty of the place, and more to do with my own baggage. I bend at the knees, dipping my hands into the glacial water, washing off the dust from the trail.
I pull my keys from my pocket, rubbing my thumb over the worn plastic of a souvenir keychain as I hold it out in front of me. The photograph has faded, but the mountains are just the same as they were all those years ago, you’d think nothing has changed.
But the people in the picture are gone now and that changed everything for me.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” Millie’s voice breaks through my thoughts as she pushes up on her tiptoes next to me.
“Just a picture of some old family friends,” I shrug, shoving the keys back into the depths of my pocket. I don’t know why I feel the need to lie, but sometimes it’s easier than the truth. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Rude,” she pouts, strutting away from me. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
“We’re not friends,” I remind her. “I wouldn’t waste your breath trying to change that.”
Slumping down on one of the rocks by the lake shore, she makes quick work of untying her boot laces – sinking her feet into the water, letting cool waves lap over her toes.
She’s going to regret that when she has to wedge those swollen ankles back inside her boots.
The afternoon heat soaks into my skin, an apt reminder that the sun will be taking no prisoners for the hike back down. I slather sunscreen over my exposed arms, before dropping the bottle down at Millie’s feet. I can guarantee she didn’t think to bring anything useful with her in that backpack and returning her in one piece includes making sure she doesn’t burn to a crisp.
I watch her apply the lotion, wondering where the fuck this girl learned to do life – she looks like an infant trying to feed itself spaghetti Bolognese.
Suddenly, having to babysit her seems like less of a joke.
She wipes her hands over her leggings, thick white smears still spread across her cheeks.
“Come here,” I grunt.
“Why?” she replies, completely unaware that her face looks like it’s been used for a very unfortunate form of target practice.
“You’ve got so much sunscreen left on your face that you look like a walking sperm bank,” I answer. “So, unless you want to spend the rest of the afternoon looking like that, I’ll need to help you rub it in.”
She stomps in my direction, letting me know that babysitting duties are over, and we’ve progressed to the toddler phase.
I move my fingers across the bridge of her nose, taking in each of her freckles as I smooth the lotion into her skin. Her eyes catch mine, the light bringing out the caramel tones weaved through them.
My breath hitches.
I have no business being this close to her.
“Done.” I toss the sunscreen bottle into my rucksack and sling it over my shoulder. “Let’s get back on the trail.”
I don’t wait for her to follow.
“Wait!” She grabs my wrists, forcing me to turn around. “I’m not done here!”
“We’ve got to get going,” I assert, pointing to my watch. “ The rest of the guests were already on their way down by the time we made it to the top. They’ll be waiting for us til morning if we don’t head back now – you’re slow as death.”
“The other guests can wait,” she strops. “I hiked all the way up here. I’ll be taking my time to enjoy it, and I need to get some pictures for my scrapbook. Start without me if you like, I’ll come when I’m ready.”
She walks off, swaying her hips with an abundance of sass that I’m quickly learning is her go-to.
“I’ll wait.” Not a chance am I leaving her alone to run into a bear, or worse, some creepy bastard on the trail. “But we don’t have all day.”
Pulling a tripod from her bag, she sets it up a few feet back from the shore, her tongue dipping out of the right side of her mouth as she concentrates on lining up her phone.
I keep a safe distance, propping myself up against a tree as she moves back and forth between poses. She looks every bit the tourist as she stands with her back to the camera, arms outstretched in the air, waiting for the self-timer to run its course.
She inspects the pictures each time, huffs of increasing intensity suggesting the results aren’t quite what she was hoping for.
Pulling her phone from the stand, she spins in my direction, marching towards me with intention.
“I need your help.” She holds out her phone, waiting for me to give her my palm. “I can’t get the right angle.”
“Last time I checked, photography wasn’t included in the excursion.” I’ve already gone above and beyond to make sure she doesn’t die out here.
“I just need one good picture, Caden.” She stands too close for comfort, our height difference clearly apparent, as she looks up at me with doe eyes. “Please?”
“Fine.” Anything to create some space between us.
Chestnut waves flow down her back as she releases her hair from its tie, her body a silhouette against the backdrop of craggy peaks and milky blues. I watch her through the screen, capturing each movement as the afternoon light seems to dance with her curves.
Fuck, she looks good.
I scroll through the pictures, lingering on the final shot – she’s twisted to the side, head tilted back as she soaks up the warmth of the sun, breathing in the moment as if it’s one worth remembering. It’s ethereal. Everything about the landscape feels intentional – the wildflowers, rugged peaks, and icy waters. It all fits together perfectly, and Millie doesn't look out of place at all, like she was made to fit in with the mountains behind her.
She clears her throat, making me embarrassingly aware of her presence as she stands beside me.
“I made your butt look great in these, Adams.” I avoid eye contact as I pass her phone to her, finally getting back onto the trail.
We trudge down the switch backs, over knotted tree roots, through patches of slushy mud and swarms of mosquitoes. Those blood-sucking dickheads are the bane of my existence every summer.
We’ve made it through most of the descent at a steady pace, but now that we’re onto the final stretch, Millie is dragging her heels, stopping even more than she did on the way up.
I don’t have time for this .
As peaceful as it is out here, there’s a cold beer and a shaggy dog waiting for me at home, and Doug hates it when I’m late.
“Pick up the pace, Adams.” I call out to her, waiting for her to catch up. “You know what humans and bears have in common? They both eat dinner at dusk.”
The closer she gets, the more obvious her defeated glare becomes. A slight limp seems to pain her as she stumbles down the sloped path.
She’s hurt.
My eyes trace down her legs – thighs, knees, calves, until I reach her ankles where a trail of blood runs along the neck of her left boot.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I blurt. “Why didn’t you tell me you were bleeding?”
Those stupid new boots.
“How do you expect me to tell you anything when you’re always seven hundred miles ahead of me?!” she scolds. “I didn’t pack my walkie-talkie.”
She makes a fair point.
I sink down into a crouch by her ankle, inspecting the wound. Even if I was to clean this up and dress it right now, walking with a gouge this size would be impossible.
I push back to my feet, checking the distance remaining on my watch.
Less than a kilometer.
“I’ll have to carry you.”
Her eyes bulge out of her head.
“You will absolutely not be carrying me!” She pushes her hand against my chest, trying to move past me as her left leg pulls behind her. “I’m two hundred poun?— ”
I cut her off, bending down and sliding an arm behind her knees. “Ready?” I don’t wait for her response as I throw her over my shoulder.
“Put me down!” She batters her fists against my lower back repeatedly, making this last stretch of the trail considerably harder than it needs to be. “I can walk.”
“Stop struggling, Adams.” I tighten my grip around her thighs. “You’re injured. I’m not letting you go until I get you back to the van.”
“That sounds like something a serial killer would say,” she whines, kicking her legs, her butt jiggling against my cheek in a way that’s entirely inconvenient.
“Serial killer or not,” I say. “I’m still not putting you down.”
“Ugh,” she groans, her soft skin melting into me as she gives up the fight. “This is the worst.”
The minute she stops fighting it, our bodies seem to fit together like they’ve known each other forever – much to my dismay.