Chapter 23 #2
After five minutes of going at a snail’s pace, he tells me to speed it up. When I finally do, he tightens his hold around me and tells me to let it fly.
It doesn’t take long to get the hang of it, especially since I know he’s right here in case I need him. But there’s something about tearing through an off-road dusty track that feeds my adrenaline like when I’m riding Ranger.
“Okay, one more lap. Make it a good one.” He squeezes my bare thighs, and I swallow back a moan.
This man teases me like it’s his full-time job.
I rev the engine and fly over the last bump.
“Jesus Christ.” He laughs between his words when the front two wheels bounce against the ground. “You killed it.”
“I’m a champion barrel racer…are you that surprised?” I mock even though I was terrified as hell at first. He doesn’t need to know that.
“Not at all. But I’m still impressed,” he says with a smile in his voice. “There’s a pond half a mile from here that I wanna show you. Just drive down the trail and you’ll see it.”
My heart continues beating rapidly as I drive us through another trail of trees. I still can’t believe how large this place is.
“How much land do y’all own?”
“Hundreds of acres. Goes back here and then some.”
“Did y’all ever camp out here?”
“Not really. We have family who live in Willow Branch Mountain a couple hours north of here and they own a luxury camping resort. My parents took us out there pretty much every summer growin’ up.”
“Why does that sound familiar?” I rack my brain for where I would’ve heard that name.
“It’s a small town, but it’s a popular place for mostly couples. We have some marketing materials posted at The Lodge. Probably saw it in there.”
No, I don’t think so…
“Hmm…”
“What is it?” He leans in closer to hear me.
“I’m just gettin’ frustrated having these moments of something soundin’ like I know them but not remembering from where or how.
Happened earlier too at the farmer’s market when a journalist approached me and called me by my name as if we’d spoken before.
I knew she looked familiar but couldn’t place any memories of her. ”
“Yeah, that’s the brain fog associated with concussions.
Wilder got sick with bacterial meningitis when he was like five or six and suffered from neurological side effects for two years.
It halted his milestones because he had short-term memory issues.
They wanted him to repeat kindergarten, but he and Waylon didn’t want to be separated, so my parents didn’t let them. ”
“Oh, wow…that sounds traumatic.”
“He did rehab therapy to help him catch up and improve his memory and attention so he could comprehend what he was learning. Then he had speech therapy for a year and now he never shuts up, so I guess it worked.”
I laugh because he’s right. Wilder loves to hear his own voice.
“Okay, to the left now…you’ll have to go off trail for a minute and then you’ll see it.”
Thirty seconds later, a truck comes into view.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“It’s Fisher’s truck. He’s lettin’ me borrow it since his has a larger bed than mine. We can park here.” He reaches over and turns it off.
Once he climbs off, he helps me to my feet and removes my helmet.
“Does my hair look crazy now?”
Grinning, he smooths it down for me and then tucks it behind my ears. “It’s gonna get messed up anyway, so don’t worry too much about it.”
“Wh—”
He winks, taking my hand and walking us toward the truck. A few seconds later, the dots finally connect in my slow-thought brain on what he was insinuating.
“You sound very confident about that.”
“I am.” He glances at me, squeezing my fingers. “I plan to throw you in the water.”
“Wait, what?”
As we get closer to the back of the truck, I see a pond twenty feet away on the other side. It looks pretty clear, too.
“You didn’t tell me to bring a suit!” I scold. “Hours and hours of preparin’ and now you’re going to ruin it.”
“I’ll carry you so you don’t get wet, how’s that?”
“That sounds like a trap.”
He chuckles. “But first, we’re gonna have dinner.”
“Where?”
He opens the tailgate and reveals the cutest little surprise.
An air mattress covered in blankets, with a large wooden serving tray sitting on top of it. Two wine glasses, plates, and two sets of silverware. And then a vase of roses in the middle.
Next to it is a picnic basket.
“This is so freakin’ cute and thoughtful. I can’t believe you do this.”
He lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I wanted it to be special. We only get to experience our first date once.”
“Unless you’re me and could forget in a day or two. Then you’ll have to take me out on another first date.”
He pokes me in the side, and I squeal. “No tickling!”
Once he helps me up into the bed and shows me what we’re having, I settle comfortably between his legs, eat the little sandwiches he made, and drink the Pinot Grigio.
“This is seriously perfect,” I say, staring out into the water. “It’s so peaceful out here.”
“I sprinkled some of his ashes out here. At the track, too.”
“Whose?”
“Tucker’s,” he confirms. “His mom let me have some.”
“How’d he die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Um…” He scrubs a palm over his face, and I worry I’ve made him uncomfortable.
“You don’t—”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind talkin’ about him. He lost his high school girlfriend and a couple years later, he jumped off a bridge.”
“Oh my God.”
“His girlfriend drowned and so we speculate he wanted to go the same way she did. Even though he very much knew how to swim.”
Squeezing his hand, I pull it up to my chest and hold him tighter against me.
“We had plans to meet up to spread her ashes, but he took them with him when he jumped.”
“I dunno what to say besides how sorry I am that you had to go through that. Sounds like you two were close.”
“He was like a brother to me. We rode our bikes almost every weekend. Went lookin’ for trouble anywhere we could. Swam in this pond all summer. During spring break in high school, we’d go up to my cousin’s and spend a week in one of their luxury cabins.”
“At least you have some good memories, right?” I say softly.
“Yeah, most of ’em are good.” His lips press against my cheek. “You ready to go in?”
I’m somewhat surprised he’d still want to swim in the pond that reminds him so much of Tucker. But maybe it’s healing for him, so I nod and let him pull me up. “Let’s do it.”
He yanks off his shirt, and once again, I’m drooling at the sight of him.
“My eyes are up here, ma’am.”
“Yes, but your abs are down here.”
“If I’d known that was all it took to get your attention, I woulda walked around half-naked years ago.”
“Must be why it works on me. I never had the chance to get immune to it before I lost my memory.”
He jumps down from the tailgate and then turns around so his back is facing me. “Giddy up.”
I furrow my brows, laughing. “Giddy up where?”
Patting his shoulder, he says, “I’m carrying you, remember?”
“You were serious about that?”
“There’s no sandy beach area, so it’s all hard rocks and mud.”
“Oh, shoulda told me that in the first place.” I wrap my arms around his neck, and when my legs are secure, I hold on.
“Don’t just drop me in there,” I warn him. “I’m not the best swimmer.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a certified lifeguard. I won’t let you outta my sight.”
For some reason, that triggers something.
“Wait, I knew that! Have you told me that before?”
“Before your accident, yeah.”
“Do you think that means I’m gettin’ my memory back?”
“I dunno, maybe. Do you hate me yet?” His amused tone makes me laugh.
“Nope.”
Not even close.
“Then I guess we’re still in the clear.”