Chapter 19
Sophie
I’d floated through the rest of Davis's visit, awash in kittens, coffee, and the reassurances of the man I was coming to feel more for than I wanted to admit. Taking another chance on Davis filled me with a jittery excitement.
He'd shared more with me today than I'd expected, talking about his past. About his marriage.
The idea that Davis had been married before was uncomfortable, like an itch I couldn't quite scratch.
It was hard to imagine him letting someone in enough to make it to the altar.
Then again, if he'd been hurt in the past, maybe his walls were a defense leftover from those past hurts.
If there'd been a younger, more open version of Davis, he was long-gone.
But the man still fascinated me. Gruff on the outside and sweet in the center.
His sense of duty, of responsibility, was off the charts.
I'd dated one guy who quit jobs like he was changing his shirt.
Luckily, he'd been charming enough to land another almost instantly, but I experienced secondhand stress every time he swapped for a new one.
Davis was the opposite. He'd committed to Pruitt Farm and Pinkney Brewing, and there was no walking away. Families and livelihoods depended on him, and he'd never blink. Something about that was reassuring, even if it meant he wouldn't always put me first.
My phone buzzed as I was climbing into bed.
Davis: Sweet dreams, B.
Sophie: XO
The week in between Davis’s apology and our planned date flew by.
I was busy preparing for standardized testing, and Davis was equally occupied with equipment repairs at the farm.
But that didn’t stop him from checking in with me daily.
Sometimes it was a quick text, others a longer phone conversation about our days.
Every interaction left me aching for him and eager for our hike.
Saturday dawned, a crisp, perfect spring morning, and I relinquished the last of my reluctance about taking Bee-gonia up again. Mornings like this made me want nothing more than to lift off, floating above it all.
Flying was too much a part of me to let fear linger.
Unfortunately, I still had to pick up the repaired burner before I could do another test flight.
Davis had offered a morning hike and picnic at the top of Quartzite Mountain for our first date, followed by a trip into Spokane to pick up the burner at the maintenance shop.
I dressed in comfortable layers, my favorite puffy jacket on top for warmth. There'd probably still be snow in places along our route, and the forecasted high was in the fifties. Davis knocked promptly at eight, and I followed him out to his truck for the drive to the Quartzite Mountain trailhead.
I expected him to be quiet, but he peppered me with questions about my week and students. "Do you still want me to come speak with your class about farming?"
"Absolutely. Taylor's already been hyping you up with his friends."
Davis groaned, and I smiled at his put-upon expression. "You told them I wouldn't be bringing any kittens, right?"
"Yes," I chuckled. "But your legend lives on. Taylor gives a play-by-play of your charges almost daily. Everyone knows about Princess Buttercup and the gang."
"They're going to be disappointed if I don't at least bring Frick and Frack, aren't they?"
I hid my smile before he could catch me. For all his grumbling, somehow I didn't think it would be my students he'd disappoint if he couldn't bring the cats.
"I'll check with my administration first," I promised.
The Quartzite Mountain trailhead was in between Campfire and Spokane, making it an ideal spot to hike and have lunch. Davis found parking along the road by the trailhead, and we donned our backpacks.
"Have you done this hike before?" Davis extended a hand for mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I shook my head, shivery warmth washing through me from our clasped palms. "I've done some closer to town, but nothing this far out."
We walked to the trailhead marker and followed the path into the trees. Blue sky peeped between the clouds, but I was glad for my heavy jacket. Until the sun climbed higher, it'd be chilly in the shade.
"I forget that you didn't grow up in the area. You're from Spokane, right?" Davis asked as we picked our way along the path.
"Right," I murmured, following his broad back when the path narrowed, forcing us to drop our linked hands.
"What made you move to Campfire?"
Davis paused until we were shoulder-to-shoulder on the trail, and I swallowed, debating my answer. My usual response was that I'd driven through Campfire on my way to a camping trip on the Columbia River and fallen in love with the small-town feel, but Davis deserved the truth.
"I wanted to get away from I-90 and Spokane traffic."
"That's one thing living in the boonies spoils you for. Do you miss it?"
I side-eyed Davis, not sure if he meant the question as simple interest, or interrogation. "No. I like my life in Campfire. Occasionally, I wish for larger stores and the options you only find in a bigger metro area, but I've learned that shipping works just fine."
"What about you?" I asked. "Do you ever regret coming back to Campfire?"
"Nah. No one else would have me."
I snorted. "Liar."
We started a steep ascent, scrambling up in places, until I was breathing hard. Davis helped me with the challenging bits, hovering as if he expected my ankle to give out at any moment.
After about a mile, we made it to the small camping area. Eventually, we reached the memorial bench at the summit. It didn't look particularly comfortable, constructed of hard metal with spindly black iron legs. Davis slipped out of his jacket, covered the cold metal surface, and urged me to sit.
"How's your foot doing?" he asked.
"Fine," I said, surprised it was true.
Davis pulled a handful of containers from his pack, spreading them on the bench between us and popping off the tops to reveal a miniature feast: sliced cucumbers, pickled veggies, an assortment of cheeses and crackers, and a small clutch of early strawberries.
We munched companionably on our lunch, gazing out over the valley and the town of Chewelah.
Davis packed up the food when we finished eating, returning the containers to his backpack. He stretched, reaching his long arms above me before settling in closer, tucking me into his shoulder. I snuggled in, savoring his heat and the scents of forest that clung to him.
The sun beat down on us, and I yawned, feeling warm and content.
Davis tugged me more firmly to his broad chest, wrapping his arms around me.
Slowly, I became aware of his fingers threading gently through my hair.
The delicate touch sent a shiver of awareness down my spine.
I wanted his deft touch all over. My body demanded something more than his fingers combing my hair.
I spread my hand across one of his massive thighs above the knee, kneading it gently with my nails. The solid muscles beneath my fingers clenched.
“Bee – whatcha doing?”
I didn’t think it was possible for Davis’s voice to drop to a lower register, but in that brief pause between my nickname and his question, his timbre grew deeper.
I tilted my chin up, careful not to dislodge his hand from my hair. “If you’re going to stroke me like a kitten, I’m going to remind you I’ve got claws.”
Slowly, I scraped my nails up the leg of his jeans, pausing near the top of his thigh.
“Kitten, the beasts in this forest would eat you for breakfast.” His choked-out warning only widened my grin.
“Promise?” I arched my brows, and he chuckled, the low rumble enough to make me clench my thighs together.
With one quick lift, he sprawled me across his lap, and I wreathed my arms around his neck, enjoying the mirth I saw in his gaze.
A playful Davis was a thing of beauty.
I licked my lips, suppressing a smile when his gaze followed my silent invitation. Davis pounced, and I smiled into his mouth, loving how eager he was for me. That was my last coherent thought as I lost myself in our kiss. Gone was any pretense of gentleness.
Our lips and tongues tangled, pressing and sliding in a slick parody of what I really wanted.
I squirmed in his lap, trying to get closer, but all the wiggling in the world couldn’t relieve my ache. With a moan of frustration, I braced my hands on the bench and reoriented myself, turning and sliding my thighs to bracket his so we were fully facing each other.
His low grunt of approval and the eager way he kneaded my backside sent a flare of satisfaction through me. Still not close enough, I thrust forward, rubbing against the hard front of his jeans as we shared another soul-stealing kiss.
My world narrowed to the man in front of me. Kissing him, touching him was all that mattered.
Vaguely, I registered the sound of branches crunching in the distance, but Davis understood the true danger, shifting me off his lap and wrapping an arm around me. My breath heaved, and it took me a moment to realize why he’d pulled away.
“Hi.” A cheerful man in his forties greeted us, a parade of children accompanying him into the clearing, followed by a middle-aged woman. My cheeks flushed. A few minutes later, and their family would have witnessed a little more nature than intended.
I was both disappointed and pleased that Davis had the presence of mind to hear the warning signs and respond.
Breathing hard, I worked to regain my composure. My hair was disheveled, my lips swollen and kiss-stung, but at least I still had my clothes on.
Pasting on a broad smile, I nodded at the family. “It’s a beautiful day for a hike,” I said. “Great views.”
The woman’s lips twitched, but she didn’t call me out. The only thing I’d had eyes on was Davis.
Davis nodded, acknowledging their arrival, and bent to pick up his backpack.
“Ready?”