Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
You know those movies where the hero and heroine hack their way through the dense jungle with a machete, dodging spiders, bouncing witty banter back and forth, the sexual tension rising all along the way?
It was nothing like that.
First, we didn’t have a machete, which meant random branches kept whacking me in the face. Next, there was no banter, witty or otherwise. And sexual tension? Please. We didn’t even act the part of a hero and heroine. Noah did a lot of grumping. I mostly whined.
The spider part though? That was spot-on.
“Are we there yet?” Another branch jabbed me in the leg.
Noah didn’t answer. He’d stopped responding after the tenth time I’d asked the same thing.
Foot-tripping roots and ankle-busting stumps peppered the tangled underbrush as we made our way further down the overgrown trail.
Mosquitoes swarmed over me like dark clouds of miniature vampires.
Somewhere in the distance, a woodpecker drummed against a tree, searching for lunch.
Or it was telling its bear friends where to find us in Morse code.
I stopped to pick a thorn out of my sock. “You know that poem they make you read in English class? The one about taking the road less traveled?”
Noah smacked a mosquito off his cheek. “Robert Frost.”
“Yeah. That one.”
Noah cleared his throat. His poetry voice was deep and sexy. “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”
“Yeah. That guy was full of shit.” I ducked under a fallen log, making sure there wasn’t a snake waiting to jump on my head first.
Noah flicked another mosquito off his ear. “For once, we can agree.”
Eventually, the less-traveled road merged onto something more traveled. The ground was even, and you didn’t have to step over a log every couple of steps. We even started seeing other people.
“Are you having some sort of medical emergency?” Noah stopped when he heard me grunting. “I’m not giving you mouth-to-mouth.”
“I’d rather choke than let you give me mouth-to-mouth.”
“Choking is the Heimlich. Where you grab the person and squeeze.”
“Well, I’d rather choke than let you grab me or squeeze me.” I thrashed back and forth, trying to reach the spot on my back where it felt like my skin caught on fire.“Something’s biting me!” I ripped my shirt off over my head, then used it to flay myself.
Thwack … Thwack
“For Christ’s sake. Here, let me see.”
Noah grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. I was so freaked out by whatever was burrowing into my flesh, probably to lay its larvae or something, the fact that he now had a close-up view of my purple sports bra didn’t even bother me.
“Oh, oh.” His hands dropped from my shoulders.
“Oh, oh? Oh, oh what? What is it? What do you see?” I twisted around but couldn’t see anything.
“It’s fine. I just need you to stay calm and stay still.” I heard him unzip his backpack.
“Wait. What is it? What’s back there?”
“Like I said, just stay calm.”
“Don’t you know if you want somebody to stay calm, the last thing you say to them is ‘stay calm?’”
Noah pulled out a knife. It was one of those big knives, with one side that looked like shark teeth. I yelped, taking a step backward and holding my hands up in surrender.
“If I wanted to stab you, I would have done it by now. Hold still.”
Before I could even protest, Noah turned me back around and pressed the blunt edge of the blade against my back. He scraped along my skin.
“There.”
The burning spot didn’t burn as much. “You got it? What was it?”
“Nothing to worry about. Probably.”
“Again, if you don’t want someone to worry, don’t tell them ‘nothing to worry about.’” I whipped back around. “Show it to me.”
Noah held up the blade of the knife. “Rocky Mountain wood tick. See?” It looked like a small, reddish-brown speck. “Hey maybe you should name it?” At least he was grinning again.
“How about Noah? Since it’s so irritating and obnoxious.”
“Don’t forget blood sucking.”
“Oh, he definitely sucks.”
Noah’s grin got a little wider. “Okay. I guess I deserved that one. Turn back around and I’ll patch you up.”
I did, and he did, pulling the first aid kit out of his backpack.
“Bet you’re glad we brought our emergency supplies now.
” His touch was gentle as he dabbed a bead of salve on the itchy spot, then placed a bandage over the bite.
As his fingers traced over the surface of my skin, the electric jolts zapping through my nerves made me forget all about the tick attack. “Better?”
“Better.” When I turned around, we were standing face to face. His lips were inches from mine.
Those lake-blue eyes flicked downward, toward the place where my sports bra hugged my breasts, sweat slick on my skin. The look was so quick it was almost as if it didn’t happen. But it did.
Noah’s teeth dug into his bottom lip. “You should probably put your shirt back on.”
“Probably.”
Neither of us moved.
“Wouldn’t want you to get another tick.”
“That would suck.”
“I’d have to pull it off you again.”
“Really suck.”
Still, we didn’t move.
“Everything okay here?” A woman’s concerned voice made us jump. A family of four marched down the trail, decked out in serious hiking gear. Trekking poles, backpacks, the works.
The mom and the dad fixed their eyes on Noah’s knife, still poised in front of me. The two kids, who looked about the same age as my cousin’s six-year-old, both stared at my bra.
“Mom, she’s not wearing her shirt,” hissed the little girl.
The boy just kept staring.
I quickly pulled my hiking shirt back over my torso, and Noah sheathed his knife.
“You okay, miss?” asked the father.
“I’m fine,” I told them. “It’s not what it looks like. I’m not exactly sure what this looks like. But it’s not that.”
The mom and dad looked unconvinced.
Noah reached out and snatched my hand, squeezing it tight. “Just a happy couple,” he explained. “In love.” Noah leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“Oh. Yes. Right,” I said, squeezing his hand harder. “My boyfriend was just showing off his big knife. Probably overcompensating for something.” I looked at the mom. “Am I right?”
The mom raised an eyebrow.
The little boy kept staring at my chest.
“Come on, kids, let’s let these two lovebirds get back to their …” The dad couldn’t seem to come up with the right word to finish. He corralled his wife and two children, then scurried down the trail.
As soon as they were gone, I immediately flung Noah’s hand away and repeatedly wiped the spot where he’d kissed me with the back of my hand.
“You slobber worse than Yeti.”
“For someone whose job it is to promote skin stuff, I figured your cheek would have been softer.” Noah scooped up the backpacks and started back down the trail.
“By the way, your breath smells worse than Yeti’s, too,” I called after him.
The Adventure Center’s timber roof came into view, and if I’d had any energy left, I would have done one of those little jumps in the air where you tap your heels together in celebration.
Like in a freeze frame at the end of a movie.
But I didn’t have any energy left, so I simply followed Yeti and Noah into the parking lot.
“Last chance to carry me,” I called to Noah’s retreating backside.
He stopped and turned, face as grumpy as ever. “You managed to hike almost four miles. I think you can handle another twenty feet.”
“My feet have turned into bloody stumps.”
Noah dug into the backpack. “Here.” He tossed me the first-aid kit. When I didn’t make any effort to catch it, it clattered on the ground.
“Just in case you were wondering, I’m giving you a one-star review on every mountain man travel app I can find,” I called after him.
“You know, the longer you stay like that, the stiffer you’re gonna get,” he called back.
“Is that a medical opinion? Because I’m pretty sure the only cure for this level of exhaustion is being carried.”
Ignoring my dire state, Noah walked back into the building, his effortless stride showing no sign of the fact that we’d basically just duplicated Lewis and Clark’s entire trek to the Pacific and back.
Eventually, I dragged myself through the Adventure Center’s doors on my own two feet.
Jenn glanced up from her paperwork at the front desk with a smile.
Diego paused in sorting a pile of life jackets when he saw me. “Damn it.” He stomped over and slapped a twenty-dollar bill in front of Jenn.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing,” both Jenn and Diego said together.
“Well, look who survived Dawn Patrol.” Maya emerged from the back.
“Barely.” I slumped against the counter. “Noah tried to murder me in at least seven different ways.”
“Only seven?” Jenn returned to her paperwork. “Noah must be going soft.”
“Seriously, how’d it go?” Maya asked, wincing at my worn appearance.
“Well, first, Noah made me climb what had to be the steepest mountain in Colorado. Then he forced me to carry this massive backpack that weighed more than my entire luggage collection.” I ticked off each offense on my fingers.
“He wouldn’t let me rest, rushed me through my content creation, and made me trek through tick-infested wilderness. ”
“Yeah, those things are nasty,” said Diego. “Whatever you do, don’t let them on you. They carry all kinds of diseases.”
“They do? What kind of diseases?”
“Well, there’s Colorado tick fever,” said Jenn.
“Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever,” added Diego.
“Don’t forget tick paralysis,” said Maya.
“Tick paralysis?” I tested my limb function.
“Don’t listen to them. You’re fine.” Noah dropped his pack by the desk with a thud. “Probably.”
“And don’t even get me started on the death march shortcut through the woods after YOUR Jeep broke down.” I turned back to Jenn. “Which, by the way, was absolutely not my fault.”
“The interior light you left on would disagree,” Noah muttered.
“See what I have to deal with?” I thumbed at Noah over my shoulder. “Pure evil in flannel and hiking boots.”
Diego laughed, abandoning his gear sorting completely. “Sounds like a typical Noah morning to me.”
“At least the muffins were good. Almost made the whole thing worth it. Almost.”
“Wait,” Jenn said, her pen freezing mid-air. “Muffins? What muffins?”
“He said they were huckleberry.” I turned to Maya. “Huckleberries aren’t poisonous, are they?” She shook her head.
“Noah baked you his huckleberry muffins?” Jenn’s and Diego’s eyes both snapped to Noah with synchronized precision.
Noah pointed at Maya. “That was her idea. She was the one who suggested I give her the full experience.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jenn’s smile only grew wider.
“If you say so.” Diego smiled with her.
“It was her idea.” Noah pointed at Maya. “Tell them.”
Maya held up her hands innocently. “All I did was suggest he might want to bring some snacks in case Sam didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast first. Which I thought was a pretty safe bet since they left at 4:00am.”
Maya, Jenn, and Diego all smiled at Noah, while he scowled at all of them.
“Well, I appreciated the gesture, even if it was Maya’s idea,” I said. “I would come over there and thank you properly, but I can’t feel my legs. Tomorrow, we should take a break from mountain adventuring so I can recover. I’ll just spend the day thoroughly documenting the spa.”
“Excellent idea,” said Noah. “I can spend the day recovering my sanity.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening,” said Maya, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “Victoria wants authentic Colorado content, and that’s exactly what you’re going to give her.”
“But I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow. Seriously. In fact, I may be crippled for life.”
“No problem,” said Noah. “I know an authentic Colorado adventure you can take, and you won’t have to walk a single step.”
A sense of dread washed over me as the hint of a smile crept over Noah’s face. “Why not?”
“Because tomorrow you’ll be rafting all day.”
“You’re taking me rafting?” My eyes widened in horror.
“I’m not taking you anywhere. You’ll be in Diego’s very capable hands from here.”
Diego waved, his expression far too cheerful for someone about to expose themselves to glacier cold river water. “I hope you’re a strong swimmer.”
I turned back to Noah. “You’re not going?” For some reason, the thought of Noah not being there left me feeling strangely disappointed.
“My role in this little authentic Colorado adventure is done. Jenn and Diego will take it from here.” Noah started heading out the door. “Come on, Yeti.” The wolf-dog padded after him.
“Where are you going?”
“Got to grab my toolkit and go fix the Jeep. Then I’ve got another tour group after lunch. People who actually appreciate a little outdoor adventure.”
“And what am I supposed to do the rest of the day?”
“I don’t know. Probably something that involves putting cucumbers on your face.” He turned back around and was gone.
“So he really made you muffins?” asked Jenn.
“They were actually delicious,” I confessed. “He even used orange zest.”
Jenn and Diego exchanged another look, conveying an entire conversation with just their eyes.
Diego leaned forward. “He made you the ones with the orange zest?”
“Yes,” I said again. “Why? Doesn’t he make muffins for all of his morning tours?”
Jenn nearly spit out her sip of coffee, then started choking.
Diego only shook his head.
“Well, still. Maya made him do it.”
Maya shrugged. “Honestly? I figured he’d just bring a couple of stale granola bars.”