10. Lila
TEN
LILA
“I’d kill for an alpaca right about now.” I roll my shoulders beneath my pack, wincing with every movement. It’s not just the aches—after three days of hiking, everything feels gritty. Or, in the case of my hair, greasy. Deena said we get to swim-slash-wash today if we want, and all my clogged pores are crying out for relief. “It’s normal to slip into a coma to get out of walking any more, right?”
We’re hiking through dense forest, and by Grant’s estimate, about halfway to our next campsite. We stopped thirty minutes ago at a stream to filter water for our hydration packs and secure snacks. Technically, it’s been an easy morning, but I am over it.
I’m sorry, wilderness, but you’re just too much for me to handle.
“Pretty normal,” Grant says.
“Honestly—do you ever get sick of it?”
“I’m not sure how you’re picturing me, but I reach my limit just like everyone else. I’m not Superman.”
Too bad for him I’ve already imagined him in the costume, tights and all.
“And on this specific hike?”
He grins. “I’m not tired.”
“Okay, Man of Steel. I’m definitely not Wonder Woman. At this point, the only reason I’m still moving is so I can prove to my sister that I can be tough like her. And also because if I laid down in the middle of the path, nobody would carry me home.”
“I’d carry you. But then that post-hike boba tea would be your treat.”
A sharp little pang pierces my heart. “Now I’m thinking about boba tea.”
“Try to stay strong in these trying times.”
“This hike is my villain origin story.” I do sort of want to destroy the world right now.
It’s pretty out here, though. Even I can’t deny that. Especially today, when we passed a green lake tucked away in the woods—I can see the appeal. And I do mean see only . I would rather acknowledge it, take my pictures, and move on with my life than stay immersed in the experience for days on end.
I still worry just a little bit what this will mean for my promotion. If this trip will mean anything at all. Mayor Martinez knows I’m out here and why. If he asks how I liked it, am I supposed to lie? Rave about my uncomfortable sleeping mat and the lack of running water and the rabid owls? If I don’t, will he find someone else for the tourism job?
Ugh. Now I want to cry myself into that coma.
Grant passes me his baggie of trail mix. It’s all chocolate candies. There’s a bright spot in my day, after all.
I stare at the multi-colored goodness. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
Now he’s the one staring.
“Sorry, that just popped out. I meant to say ‘thank you.’”
“Is chocolate the key to seducing you?”
Would he actually like to know?
“Probably.” It’s been a while since someone bothered trying— which I’m just sensible enough not to say. I savor each piece, probably making scandalous sounds.
“Noted.”
Grant Irwin, you flirt. If only he was staying in town for longer than a few days, maybe…
Heck, I don’t even know what. I’m still a mess after Josh. I can just enjoy having a hiking buddy. It doesn’t need to be more than that.
I slap at a mosquito sucking away on my arm. My eucalyptus oil shield isn’t completely impenetrable. I’ve lost count of the itchy red marks I’m sporting. I look like I have some terrible medieval disease. It pairs nicely with my terrible medieval odor.
“Does the sister you’re trying to show up live in Sunshine?”
“Yup. She’s recently become an outdoors enthusiast, and told me about a million times how easy this trip would be.” I exhale a soft laugh. “I think she knew if she said she could do it, I would feel like I have to prove I can, too. She set me up.”
“A little sibling rivalry going on?”
“Always. I can’t be mad at her, though. She helped me get my job here.” I frown. “Actually, that should make me even more mad at her. I can’t owe my little sister.”
I’m joking. But also, I’m one hundred percent serious. If Hope hadn’t let me work a little social media magic on her Christmas Festival this year, the mayor wouldn’t have considered me for the events job. It’s just one more thing that’s completely upside-down in my life. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be the one she looks up to, not the one mooching off of her connections.
“I hear that. My brothers are dividing most of my responsibilities while I’m gone. I guarantee Rhett will use that as an excuse to slack off when I get back.”
“Are you going straight home to Texas when this terrible ordeal is over? ”
“Sometimes I get the feeling you’re not enjoying yourself out here.”
“Me? I’m having the time of my life. Look at all the…stuff.” I gesture at the trees around us. My phone is crammed with pictures of them, all virtually identical pines just doing their thing.
“The ‘stuff’ is pretty impressive. But no, I’m not going straight back to Texas. I’ll be around for a few weeks.”
My heart does a funny little jig. “Oh? Are you doing another trip like this?”
“Are you looking for suggestions?”
“Heck no!” I would rather eat Grant’s dry granola bars for a month.
“I’m staying at the Moonlight Lodge. This is as exciting as my vacation will get.”
“Then we should change that.” I’m not flirting, I swear. I only sound like I am because sometimes I talk before I think. Especially, apparently, with Grant. “You should come to the Fourth Fest. We’re going to have a parade, a festival in town square with farmers’ market booths and live music, and of course, fireworks.”
His eyebrows lift. “That’s you? The Fourth Fest? I saw the website when I researched my trip out here.”
“That’s me.” I can’t help my huge grin. I’m really proud of the work I’ve put into our town’s Independence Day celebrations. I’ve done a couple of smaller events for Sunshine, but this is my first big festival. “No pressure if you already have plans, but it’s going to be a huge hit.”
“I was already planning to go.”
“Really?”
“It’s a good website.”
I’m probably glowing, but I don’t care. This is exactly what I love to hear. “Hopefully, my tourism website is just as good, and I get this promotion. Otherwise, I’m going through a lot of eucalyptus oil for nothing.”
“Is that the only thing that will make this trip a success for you? If you get the promotion?”
He doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be judgy, but his comment still hits something tender I don’t want to look at too closely. “It is why I’m here.”
On a normal day, I’d be sitting at my dining table, editing photos and planning social media messages about the Fourth Fest. I’d also be freshly showered and relatively free of bug bites.
“Sometimes I can plan for months for a mountain climb, but once I get there, I have to turn away before I reach the top because of unexpected bad weather.”
Hmm. Feels like a lower your expectations speech. “Are you trying to tell me to prepare myself for figurative bad weather?”
“No. I’m saying, the outcome isn’t always a guarantee. So it’s good to find things you enjoy in the process, too.”
Okay…he might have a point. I do sometimes get too obsessed on the end result and wind up losing focus on the middle bits. But this time around, it’s like it’s all forgettable middle bits. “You still owe me something fun.”
He grins. “I’m working on it.”
I’m still smiling like a fool when we catch up to the others. They’re stopped at an overlook, gazing out at a huge blue lake. Pine trees grow right up to the edge of the water. In the distance, the Three Sisters mountain peaks complete the scene.
It’s a great shot, and I have my phone out immediately, snapping pictures. I’ve been rationing the battery, but I’ll need to plug it into my power bank tonight.
“Do you want some of you?” Grant asks. “For your behind-the-scenes, day-in-the-life stuff?”
I kind of love that he remembered that. A lot of people tune out as soon as I start talking about my social media. “Oh, no. Even if my followers were interested in mountain lakes, they don’t want to see me without makeup. The last time I posted an all-natural picture, my comments were flooded with helpful hints about the importance of concealer.”
I force a laugh, but he just frowns.
“Then your followers don’t know real beauty when they see it.”
He holds my gaze, his compliment swirling through me, leaving glitter in its wake. For a laid-back mountain man, he sure can be a sweet talker.
“It makes it all worthwhile, doesn’t it?” Shannon says to no one in particular.
I don’t have it in me to come up with a snappy response. I did walk myself here. That’s an accomplishment of sorts. And I can’t deny the beautiful view. I soak it up, hoping for some kind of outdoorsy transformation. At least I’ll have one moment of triumph to relay to Hope when we get back.
“That’s our swimming hole today,” Deena announces. “Trimble Lake. It might be brisk, but it’s our best bet to avoid leeches.”
I slowly turn to face Grant, who’s watching me with soft amusement. Clearly, he’s expecting a reaction. Predictably, I give him one.
“Leeches?” I mouth. It’s more of a silent scream. He just lifts a shoulder like it’s no big deal. Look, I like the man, but it’s hard not to question a guy’s life choices when the threat of bloodsucking parasites is such a blasé thing. No Should I wear a wet suit to avoid infection? No Obviously we don’t want to swim if it’s only our “best bet.” Just a shrug and What are you going to do?
His unbothered attitude is strangely attractive.
“Did she scare Lila off the swim?” Scott’s question is twenty percent curiosity, eighty percent glee.
“I’ll swim if everyone else is getting in.” If this is some hiker hazing ritual, then forget it.
“Oh, we’re swimming.” Cindy fans at her armpits. “It’s time.”
A chorus of agreement moves around the group.
Grant nods. “I’m swimming, too.”
Great. Perfect. Bring on Leech Lake.
I do not want to swim in Leech Lake.
Everyone else has already trekked from camp down to the water and gotten in, but I’m still messing around in my tent. I’m decked out in my tank top and athletic shorts. I’m coated in sunscreen. I’ve got my paper-thin travel towel at the ready. The sun’s sweltering enough that a cool dip will feel good, and I’m certainly smelly enough to need it.
But leeches . Even the slight possibility of them feels like too much.
I draw in a long, slow breath. It’s either a quick dunk or live in my filth for two more days. How long could it take a leech to attach to me, anyway?
Forget that. I don’t want to know.
I follow the path through the trees down to the access point. Pairs of hiking boots are tucked next to big rocks on the shoreline, along with camp towels and dry clothes. I slip off my boots, set my things aside, and inch into the cool water.
Then, I freeze. Did I hit my head on the walk down? Did I finally slip into that coma? Grant surfaces out of the lake several yards away from me, eyes closed, hands running through his hair as he gains his footing and stands waist-deep in the water. Droplets cascade down his bare chest to the top of his swim trunks. I knew the muscles would be there. I…was not expecting this much chest hair.
Also, he hasn’t shaved this whole week, and the beard he’s sporting does wicked things to my senses.
Before I can commit felony-level ogling, I drop my gaze to my feet. Focus on the pointy rocks covering the lake bed that are jabbing at my soles. Put that vision of manliness out of my head forever.
Ha. Unlikely. It’s locked in.
“Don’t hang out by the shore,” Mitchell calls. He and Deena tread water about thirty feet away. “That’s where you’re at greatest risk of being discovered by our little bloodsucking friends.”
Okay, that puts the vision of manliness out of my head.
I scramble deeper into the chilly water. Goosebumps break out over my skin as I submerge, but the sudden shock is the lesser evil here. While I can still touch the lake bed, I dunk my head under and rub my fingers over my scalp and through my hair. I can’t use soap or shampoo, but after days of being covered in a fine layer of dirt, it’s heavenly.
Treading water, I make my way closer to Grant. Naturally, I pretend I’ve only just now noticed him. I didn’t see you and your generous pectorals standing there. “Is this the leech-free zone?”
“Should be.”
“How can you tell?” Not that I don’t trust his judgment, but more reassurance would be nice.
“It’s not murky.”
That’s true. I can see his body pretty well from here. Not that I’m looking. I’m not.
“Wait, are you touching the bottom?” He’s way too steady with the water at chest height, unlike the way my arms and legs constantly churn to keep myself upright .
“I’m a bit taller than you.”
I stretch one foot down but can’t reach anything. Then, a thought occurs, and I jerk my foot back. “Are there fish in here?”
“Yes.”
“Big fish?”
He scans the lake. “Probably, given the size.”
“ Biting fish?”
One side of his mouth quirks. “A few things in here might be tempted to bite you.”
That’s it. Bath time’s over. I start to turn back, but he gently takes hold of my forearm so I don’t get far. He lets go again as soon as I pause my escape.
“I’m just teasing, princess. You don’t have to get out.” His giant grin isn’t all that contrite. “It sounds like they swim in this lake every time they come out here. It’s safe.”
“If I see even a hint of fish fang or leech sucker, I’m out.”
“That’s fair.” He rakes his fingers through his hair again, making it curlier than ever.
It’s like this man was created specifically to throw me off guard. Not that it’s just me. I’m sure women everywhere would have a similar reaction. So of all the camping trips in all the great outdoors, how did he wind up in mine?
I avert my gaze from the dusting of black chest hair, but my attention snags on something else. “What’s your tattoo?”
He stills and lets me shift closer to get a better look. A black and gray mountain range cuts across the top of his right arm, but there’s something more just beneath the water. I grab his elbow and lift it out to see.
“‘Not all those who wander are lost.’ Aww. You’re a nerd.” A mountain man with a Tolkien tattoo? He’s so adorable.
“You know the quote.” His eyebrows bob, telegraphing takes one to know one .
“Yeah, but you got it permanently inked on your body. ”
He looks sheepish but not entirely repentant. “I got it when I was twenty-four. I thought it was unique.”
I spin in the water so he can see my right shoulder blade. “Tell that to my dahlia tattoo. It’s not a butterfly on my lower back, but they’re practically interchangeable.”
It’s a botanical design with a wash of maroon through the petals. I still love it, even though I saw something similar on every other woman I met in Seattle.
“It’s pretty,” he says as I paddle around to face him again. “Delicate. It suits you.”
How does he have me blushing in borderline frigid water?
“Do you have any more tattoos?” I ask.
He smiles, looking ridiculously at home standing in a lake. “You mean, do I have any more tattoos for you to make fun of?”
“I’m not making fun. I think it’s precious .”
His laughter curls around me like the coziest blanket. “You sound like you want to get dunked, princess.”
Half-laughing, half-shrieking, I splash myself away from him, but he immediately closes the distance again. He’s super fast in the water, and he’s got his hands wrapped around my upper arms in about two seconds.
“It’ll be fun.” His voice is all mischief and naughtiness.
“Not so close!”
He pauses, eyes searching mine, his hands loosening their grip as I bob in the water. I applaud his immediate response to my warning, but I might have reacted too strongly.
“I smell like a wet dog,” I explain.
His gaze sparks. Warms. Heats up to inferno levels. Slowly, he leans closer, angling his face within an inch of mine until his nose brushes against my temple. He inhales. Now, I’m the one burning.
Nobody has ever smelled me before. If you’d asked, I would have said it’s a weird thing to do. And yet, I’m responding to him as if he’d traced my skin with his mouth instead of the tip of his nose.
He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “You smell good.”
Then, he lets me go and floats backward without a care, as if he didn’t just sniff me. As if I didn’t enjoy it. As if he hasn’t seen me looking my worst, and still declared me beautiful. Amazing. Enough.
As if he isn’t making me redefine exactly what would make this trip a success.