Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Hunter
“I thought Randy said this was an easy hike,” I say.
I look up at a long stretch of boulders, leading to a plateau. I can hear the waterfall, and there’s a creek winding down the other side of the rise, but it’s too choked with underbrush to even consider getting up that way.
“Randy’s got a different definition of easy than... well, humans,” Clementine says, her hazel eyes flicking over the gray rocks. “Why, are you tired already?”
She glances at me, her eyes dancing. I cross my arms.
“I eat climbs like this for breakfast,” I say. “But I’m not the one with a half-busted ankle.”
“It’s not half-busted,” she says. “I’ve been totally fine this whole way.”
She hops up and down a couple of times on her right foot, like that’s gonna prove that she’s fine to scramble up a bunch of boulders.
I don’t like letting her do this, but I’m fully aware that I don’t let Clementine do anything. I can have opinions, but the minute I suggest that I might not let her do something, look the fuck out.
“Can I talk you out of this?” I ask.
She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me.
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “I’m not made of glass.”
I want to point out that she did turn her ankle yesterday while all she was just walking, but she’s not gonna change her mind, so I don’t. Instead I climb about ten feet behind her, close enough that if she slips, I can catch her.
I can also watch her ass, which looks surprisingly good in her hiking pants, which aren’t generally very flattering.
About halfway up, her foot slips a little, sending a small shower of debris my way. My heart just about stops, but she finds her footing again half a second later and keeps climbing.
“Sorry,” she calls.
“It’s fine,” I call back.
I don’t remember this from before, this intense, powerful need to protect her. When she turned her ankle yesterday, I felt like the ground had fallen away from under me, even though she’s pretty much fine now.
It’s a primal, bone-deep drive to keep her safe that I’ve never felt before. Not even with her.
I just hope we don’t run into any aggressive bears on this hike, because I swear to God, I’ll fight a bear for Clementine. I’ll fight two bears, and I’ll lose, because I don’t have claws or teeth.
She gets to the top without slipping again. I follow her, and then we both stand there, staring.
It looks like it could be in a Visit Montana!
brochure or something, because it’s picture-perfect.
The waterfall isn’t big, especially right now with the drought, but it’s about fifty feet high, falling from a semi-circular outcropping of rock above, overhung with moss and some kind of climbing plant.
In front of us, the basin is the sort of deep, perfect blue you can only see in the middle of nowhere. It’s surrounded by flat gray stones, and the whole place feels perfect, secluded, so totally out of the way that it’s hard to believe we even found it.
“Damn, Randy,” Clementine breathes.
Then she glances up. The column of smoke is still visible above the trees, and we both examine it for a moment. It hasn’t changed since this morning. If anything, it’s gotten smaller.
That’s good. Usually, around this time of year, fire season is wrapping up. I’m ready for it to end, and to make sleeping in a regular bed and taking regular showers a fixture in my life again.
“Think this is where Randy takes the ladies?” I ask, walking toward one of the flat gray rocks.
“I think the only lady in Randy’s life is Mother Nature,” Clementine says.
“If this is one of his favorite spots, I see why,” I say.
Clementine takes off the hiking fanny pack she insisted on wearing instead of a backpack and puts it on a rock. It’s a hot day, in the mid-eighties at least, and we’ve hiked a couple of miles, so there’s a big dark splotch of sweat over her lower back.
I take off my backpack, and even if I can’t see it, I can feel the matching sweat spot on my back, so I take my shirt off too and lay it out on a rock.
Then I glance around, just to make sure there’s no one else around, and take off my pants and boxers too. Barefoot, I gingerly walk over to where Clementine is, just watching the waterfall, and put one hand on her back.
She looks over at me and yelps.
Then she starts laughing, and I raise my eyebrows.
“You see something funny?” I ask.
“Sorry,” she says, gasping. “I wasn’t expecting you to be naked. I’m just surprised.”
“I didn’t exactly bring a swimsuit, so I don’t see what other option we’ve got,” I say, grinning.
“Naked?” she says. “Here?”
“It’s hot as hell out here and I bet that water feels good,” I say, dragging one finger down her spine. “Right now, you’re hot and sweaty, but you could go for a quick, refreshing swim.”
Clementine just laughs at me.
“I was teasing,” she says. “You’d be surprised how much time I spend naked in the woods.”
I lift one eyebrow as she shrugs off the button-down shirt she was wearing over a tank top. She tosses it on a rock, then gives me a sly look.
“There’s no one around and it’s hot,” she says, shrugging. “Why not be naked?”
“I wish I’d known that there were hot, naked forest rangers out fixing trails when I was thirteen,” I say. “I’d have done nothing but hike.”
She laughs again and pulls off her tank top. Now all she’s wearing is a sports bra, the underside dark with sweat.
“Turn around,” she says.
“Seriously?”
“You don’t need to watch me get a sports bra off,” she says. “I promise it’s not sexy.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
She just shrugs, then grabs the band of her bra, takes a deep breath, and yanks up on it. It comes up a little, just enough to trap her upper arms, and then both her breasts suddenly bounce free.
Not sexy my ass. I’m at half-mast already, and things are looking up.
Clementine sort of wriggles back and forth, both arms still over her head, the bra awkwardly around her shoulder and upper arms. She hops a little, then takes another deep breath.
“You need—”
Suddenly the thing pops off, over her head, and she shakes out her hair, tossing it next to her other clothes before glancing over at me.
“Yeah, I don’t think I can have sex with you after seeing that,” I tease. “I especially hated the part where you hopped up and down.”
“Hunter, get in the water,” she says, unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down, kicking her boots off.
“Ladies first,” I say.
She walks over to me, at the edge of the perfectly clear, blue pool, and sticks one foot into the water.
Then she pulls her foot back with a gasp.
“Fuck that’s cold!”
“Are you wimping out?” I ask, taking a step into the water.
It’s fucking cold, so cold I instantly can’t feel my feet, but I force myself not to react in front of Clementine.
“No,” she says. “I’m just taking it slow.”
“That’s gonna make it worse,” I say.
She scrunches up her face and dips the toes of one foot in. I force myself to wade deeper, up to my knees, hands on hips.
I’m not looking forward to my balls going in. They’re already clenching at the thought, but I can’t back out now.
“You want help?” I ask.
She looks at me like I suggested murdering Trout, and I laugh.
“Just do it,” I say, wading a little deeper. My balls clench tighter.
“How about you just fucking do it,” she mutters. Now she’s up to her ankles in cold water, her fists clenched at her sides.
I look at the center of the pool. I can see the gravel bottom from here, it’s so clear, and it’s four, maybe five feet deep.
Deep enough. I start wading back out, toward Clementine. She looks at me and laughs.
“Who’s wimping out now?” she teases.
“Me,” I say, coming to stand next to her. “Definitely me.”
Clementine frowns for a split second, but it’s too late. I grab her under the shoulders and behind the knees and lift her off the ground. Her arms go around my neck automatically, but she kicks her feet as I walk her further into the pool.
“No no no no no no no,” she squeals. “Hunter. No. No no no, I swear to God—”
“What’s that? Put you down?” I ask, grinning.
“I’m going to kill you when I get out of here,” she says.
I take a deep breath. Clementine screws up her face.
I plunge us both into the deepest part of the pond, and Jesus pogo-sticking Christ it’s cold. So cold it knocks the wind out of me and for a moment I actually panic.
Then I stand up, because it’s four feet deep.
We surface at the same time, and Clementine is already shouting, but it’s just a string of curse words, mostly directed at me. I think my balls have retreated inside my body, but I grin at her anyway, trying to look like I don’t mind.
“I am actually going to kill you,” she says, gasping for air as she shoves her hair off her face. “Jesus, it’s so cold I can’t even think. I think my brain went numb. I think you killed my brain cells.”
She takes a step toward the edge, but I grab her around the waist.
“NOOOoooooo — oh,” she says, as I pull her in, her head against my chest. She puts her arms around me, her nipples hard as diamonds against my chest.
I just kiss her on top of her head, laughing into her hair.
“You’re the world’s worst boyfriend,” she mutters.
That word, boyfriend, makes my heart skip a beat. Or maybe it’s the cold.
“There’s no way that’s true,” I say.
“You’re not even warm,” she says, burrowing harder into me.
“Just give it a minute, it starts to feel warmer,” I say.
“That’s because your skin is going numb.”
“Still feels warmer, though,” I say. “I’m gonna go in again.”
Clementine lets me go and backs away quickly, like she’s afraid I’m going to grab her and take her with me, but I don’t this time. Dunking her once was all I wanted.
After a few minutes we both warm up a little, though I think she’s right and our skin is just going numb.
We splash around for a while, dare each other to go through the trickle of the waterfall.
Clementine tries to dunk me but it doesn’t work until I finally let her, and then we float on our backs for a few minutes, just looking up at the sky.