Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Jackson
N ormal people usually sleep in on a Sunday morning.
Or here in the Bible Belt, they’re enjoying their coffee and getting ready for church.
But because Maggie and I work such weird schedules, the Sundays when I’m off are spent adventuring.
Always. It’s become such a routine for us that she’s waiting when I pull in her drive at five a.m. dressed in her regular Funday uniform of well-worn hiking boots and leggings.
She climbs into the Jeep with a smile. “Hi sunshine.”
Thank god she’s back to normal this morning. I can’t handle it when she gets all emotional on me. Gives me the hives.
“Hey yourself.” I’m not totally stupid. I know she was expecting me to tell her we couldn’t do the zip-lining trip.
Come to think of it, maybe that’s why she was acting all weird yesterday.
I did secure us a spot, but it’s a few weeks out, so I think I’ll hold on to that surprise for later.
If I tell her I scored a time slot, she’ll be anxious and spend the next two weeks overthinking it. “You ready to go do some adventuring?”
She angles her head and shoots me a look that basically says I’m an idiot. “I’m always ready.”
And she is. That’s one of the things I like best about her.
Changing the radio to her favorite station, I head toward the interstate while Maggie settles in.
“Okay. Spill. Where are we going?”
“I thought maybe we’d go catch a waterfall.”
Her head whips toward me. “Please say Raven Cliffs.”
“How’d I know you were going to say that?” I knew she’d want to go there, because the last time we went, she raved about how much she loved it. And she still mentions it at least once a month. “I know why you like it so much.”
She unzips her fleece and slips her shoes off for the long car ride. “Oh yeah? Do tell.”
I catch her eyes on me as I check to change lanes. “That was our first big adventure.”
A little huff of laughter is her response. “Yeah. That’s totally it. It has nothing to do with the excellent hike along the creek, the way the waterfall seems to flow out of the cliff, or that it’s basically my favorite hike ever. Yeah. None of that stuff. It’s all about you.”
I clutch my chest as if she’s wounded me, but secretly, I love the way she teases me.
“Nah, I figured with all the rain we’ve had lately, the water will be up, and hopefully the falls will be rushing. Plus, I want to see if my run times have improved since I’ve been training.”
Hours later, we’ve hiked past multiple falls where I only had to be warned to be careful twice. She did actually threaten to leave me, and I had to scramble up the bank from the lower falls and catch up to her so she wouldn’t be hiking by herself.
When we reach the end of the official trail, the rushing water blasting from a break in the cliff wall is so loud that it’s easier to just sit and enjoy the moment than to try to talk. After a picnic of meat snacks and cheese, plus fruit Maggie brought, she chills at the base of the falls.
Needing a little more challenge than she does, I scramble up the root ladder to the top of the cliffs, then peer down over the edge.
A familiar rush floats through me. Getting too close to the edge spells disaster.
A hundred-foot drop to the granite slab below is not the way I want to go out, but that thrill of danger is intoxicating. Addictive.
Maggie’s doing her sun routine, laid out on a boulder, with her head propped on her pack. Beyond the cliffs, the creek washes down through a rhododendron-lined valley.
I wish I could convince Maggie to climb this section with me, because the view is incredible, and I know she’d love it. But she likes to do her thing and never complains when I do mine.
On the rocks below, she looks so laid-back and comfortable, so in her element. It’s one of those rare moments without a soul around her. Just Maggie being a goddess and soaking up nature. I snap a picture of her lounging with the view beyond her, then add it to my adventure album.
I’m gonna miss this if things go my way. Doubt rolls through me, unpleasant and unusual. There’s no time for that, though—we’ve got a mountain to hike back down.
“So about the reunion…” she starts once we’re back in the Jeep and leaving the trailhead.
The hesitation in her voice has me glancing at her.
“I don’t know if I want to go,” she continues, picking at her blunt nails .
“Why not?”
“High school was awful.”
“I remember you and Alice always holed up in her room, talking about music and doing whatever else teenage girls do. But no, high school wasn’t awful. High school rocked.” That’s a total fucking lie. High school sucked—the end of it, anyway.
“Whatever. You were a popular jock.”
“And you always had your nose stuck in a book.”
She lifts a shoulder. “Better living lost in the pages of a good book. Not that you’d know, you’ve never slowed down long enough to try it.”
“Anyway. I do think you should go. If Alice gets this job, I will have to go to support her, and if I have to go, you have to go. We can sit in the corner and observe or, you know, talk about people we knew back when.”
“Like you’d sit in a corner in any room. I’ve been out with you enough to know that’s a lie.”
I scoff. “It is not.”
From the corner of my eye, I see her head whip in my direction, and I smother a smile. Finally, I’ve got her fired up and out of that sad, pensive state I hate to see her in. She’s happiest when she’s living loud.
“Kermit Jackson. You are the definition of a social butterfly. You couldn’t sit in a corner and observe”—she quirks her fingers in air quotes around the word—“if your life depended on it.”
She’s not wrong. It’s not my normal MO. “Magnolia Simmons, I can be a good plus-one when I need to be. Also, I thought we agreed you’d never call me that.” Like the two peas in a pod that we are, we both hate our first names.
We reach the stop sign, and I glance at the clock. It’s early enough that we’ve got time for a side quest. I don’t even ask if she’s down for it, because I know her.
“No way.” She huffs a bark of sardonic laughter.
I’m not sure if she’s talking about my name or that I can be a good date, but I don’t like that she doesn’t have confidence in me.
“I bet you leave your dates sitting alone at a table while you grab more rounds and then conveniently get distracted chatting it up with all the people you run into. Then your poor date sits there for an uncomfortably long period of time. Alone. While you socialize.”
That’s… oddly specific. “Mags.” I drop my voice low, making it as sultry as possible. “I can promise you that if I am out with a woman, she’s not going to be left sitting alone. At any point.”
Who the fuck did this to her? Someone in her past obviously hurt her feelings. The leather of the steering wheel creaks under my tightening grip.
“No, you only make sure to date women who are as social as you,” she fires back, completely immune to my sex-voice. “And the point I was trying to make was that I. Don’t. Want. To go. To the reunion.”
“How about a marriage party instead?” The question barrels out of my mouth before I can stop it. What the fuck? I know better than to invite her to something like that. People will start making assumptions about us. My chest grows uncomfortably tight.
She looks at me all horrified—or maybe confused—and I scramble to figure out how to recover.
“My chief got married, and there’s a party next Saturday to celebrate.” Thank fuck this road is curvy as hell and I can’t take my eyes off it long enough to look at her. Blindly, I crack the window. Cool air flows in, relieving the suddenly stifling atmosphere inside the Jeep.
“Most people call it a reception, not a marriage party.” She’s back to teasing, giving me shit, and some of the pressure squeezing my chest eases.
“I’ve got to go. My whole department will be there. Hell, all of the Newman guys will be there too.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then asks, “Jules?”
“Yeah, and I’m sure Rosie will be there too.” A little ray of hope flutters to life. It wouldn’t be terrible to go if she went with me. I just don’t want it to be weird between us.
She’s quiet for a few minutes while we navigate a series of turns that have us climbing the mountain. This is classic Maggie. She takes a minute to think about what she wants. And then once her decision is made, she’s either all in or all out.
It’s refreshing to spend time with her rather than dating someone who hedges and plays coy. I know where I stand with Maggie at all times, and it’s double the fun to try to change her mind.
“Okay, I could use some fun,” she finally says. “But it’s not a date-date. It’s just a good excuse to dress up and eat some bougie free food. Plus, I secretly adore weddings. I’m in love with love and the idea of finding that one person you can’t live without.”
I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about, but it doesn’t matter because we’re pulling up to the gravel lot, and I can escape this conversation before she spouts off more about love.
“What are we doing?” she asks, glancing around the lot like she’s not paid attention at all during the drive.
“Thought we might get some miles on the AT.”
“You and your mountain-running obsession.” Her eye roll is epic, but still, she’s piling out and grabbing her pack. “I didn’t bring enough snacks for the Appalachian Trail. ”
“I got you, boo.” I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face as I meet her at the back of the Jeep. “How about if I promise pancakes at that little place you like when we get done?”
We step onto the trail, and anticipation floods my veins. There’s an itch under my skin, and all my nerve endings flare to life as I look up at the switchbacks. The need to sprint up this mountain is calling to me.
“Nice try. They’ll be closed by then.” She shifts the straps of her pack, taking out her trekking poles.
“Okay, I know you want to run. I’ll meet you at the outcropping at the top.
Don’t even give me that shit about not leaving me alone on the trail.
If I remember correctly, this is an out and back. ”
Which is exactly why I chose this section. Maggie is the only person in the world who knows about my wildland plans. She always frowns when I talk about it, so I don’t think she approves, but she at least gets it.
“I’m a big girl. I can hike alone. Go, do your thing. I need some quiet time anyway.”
I’m torn between staying with her and leaving her to do my thing, and my indecision must be showing because she makes a shooing motion. Impulse has me leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. There’s not another soul out there who gets me like Maggie does.
“Thanks, Mags.”
The run does the job and calms that inner voice that’s been yelling nonstop for me to pick up and leave town.
I can run at home, and do every day, but there’s nothing like the burn of being on the mountain.
I sprint to the outcropping and then loop back down the path, to find Maggie shooting cute little eyeball daggers at me as I zoom past her back to the trailhead, where I pivot and retrace my steps .
“Freaking show-off,” she mutters when I reach her again at the top of the switchbacks.
I slow to walk with her and drink some water. “You okay?”
“Don’t patronize me.”
The sharp tone pricks, and my eyes dart toward her. “I’m not patronizing. This hill is tough. I’m just checking in.”
She trudges forward, but her shoulders drop. “I’m fine. Go finish your run. Beat your last time.”
She’s not fine, because she won’t look at me. I want to press for more answers, but she won’t talk until she’s good and ready, if at all.
Instead, I take her at her word and give her the space she asks for. With a slap to her ass, I take off. “See you at the top.”
I sprint to the summit, beating my previous time, and instead of doing another loop, I take the side trail to the shelter and water source for a refill before jogging back down to the outcropping.
She’s not there yet, so I pull my shirt off and lay it across a flat rock, then stretch out in the sun.
Hell yeah, I beat my last run time, but that still doesn’t mean I’m ready for the type of physical endurance I’ll need if I get into the program. There’s so much I don’t know about what to expect, and I wish I had someone to run my questions by.
No second-guessing. This has been my goal since forever. Goals and dreams I need to keep striving for because the original owner of them can’t. If I get the call, I’m taking whatever placement they offer.
A few minutes later, Maggie emerges from the tree-lined trail, breathing hard and red-faced from exertion. I will miss this time and these adventures with her, though.
I pat the granite slab next to me, keeping an eye on her as she closes the distance.
Somewhere along the way, she stripped off the T-shirt, and she’s down to her sports bra.
It’s not unusual; plenty of women hike in only a sports bra, but Maggie never does, and the sight of that pale, smooth skin is affecting me in ways I don’t want to admit.
I sit up, propping my elbows on my knees to hide what’s happening in my thin hiking shorts, and focus on the fact that I like that she trusts me enough to not make herself miserable by hiding under an extra layer.
She drops her bag and plops down beside me. The haunted, troubled look is gone from her eyes. Guess the trail helped her work out her issues too.
“Here. Coolish water for my lady,” I say in a bad British accent, passing her a fresh bottle of water. She nods her thanks and chugs half the bottle. A bead of sweat runs from her hairline down the column of her throat, then lower. Disappearing behind the fabric of her sports bra.
I force my gaze back to the view of the mountain.
“Good hike?” I croak, then clear my throat and try again.
There’s no response, so I chance a glance over my shoulder to check on her.
She’s staring off into the view, lost in thought.
I want to know every little thing running through her mind.
I’m so focused on her that I don’t even notice I’m leaning into her until our shoulders bump.
Her gaze darts to mine, startled. A soft smile tilts her lips as she shifts her focus back to the landscape and leans her head on my shoulder.
“It was a good day,” she says with a sigh.
It’s a peaceful trip home. Not wanting to return to the worries I had on the mountain, I think about how my run went, what I can improve on.
In no time at all, we’re at her house, and she’s jumping out of the cab and snatching up her pack.
“Thanks for a fun day. Text me the details about next week.”
Despite all the reasons I shouldn’t, I can’t help but stare at her ass as she walks away.