Chapter 3
THANE
I’ve never changed my shirt four times before going to meet someone.
As I drive to meet Audra, all kinds of emotions create pressure in the center of my chest, making my pulse hammer through my entire body. Hope…expectation…okay, lust too.
I can't believe such a smart, interesting woman just appeared in my field. I'm going to have to figure out some great dates to keep her entertained.
When I arrive at the inn a few minutes early, Audra is just coming out the lobby door. My God, she’s stunning. She's wearing a similar loose floaty dress, this one a dull slate blue. It brightens her golden hair and makes the brown of her eyes look warmer.
"What?" She blinks. "Do I have something in my teeth?"
I take her hands in mine, very relieved when she doesn't pull away. "Sorry. I know staring is rude. But you're so beautiful it knocked the wind out of me."
Her lips fall open, and it takes a monumental amount of self-control to stop myself from kissing her. Her cheekbones flush with a lovely earthy pink color. "Thank you," she whispers. Her eyes wander slowly around my shoulders. "You look good in green."
I'm almost always in black or charcoal, but I went with a deep forest green button-down shirt today. It's casual, but nice enough if we go out for lunch later. Fingers crossed.
Holding her hand, I escort her the short distance to my truck, then help her up into it. By the time I slide in, she's laughing. "I smell coffee!"
I nod to the two travel bottles of espresso between us, then reach behind to pull out a small cooler. "Okay to use your lap as a table?"
"Of course." She laughs with delight when she sees the plate of pastries.
"I did the coffee but left the snacks to The Bakery on Main."
We drive out to the trailhead, chatting about what food goes best with coffee, then she explains more about her soundscapes. It sounds like Audra is determined to help people by creating the perfect background soundtracks for focused work.
By the time we're hiking down the trail, she's explaining the importance of bird calls.
"There are so many beautiful recordings of ocean waves that are ruined by the sharp screech of a seagull," she says.
"It's a shrill contrast to the flowing waves. At the same time, the sound of animals gives the illusion that you’re part of their world – not stuck at your desk with three more hours of work ahead of you. "
"So you need…mellow birds?"
"Yes! They also have to be mixed in gently, starting as a whisper from a far distance. Then a bit louder, coming in gradually before they fade out again."
"Like a gentle alarm that nudges you out of sleep instead of scaring the crap out of you?"
"Exactly!"
I snort a laugh. "Those don't work with me. Well, sometimes. But there were days my brothers would come into my room banging pots and pans and I still wouldn't wake up."
Audra looks at me in horror. "What if there was a fire?"
"Oh, I wake up whenever I get too warm."
She bursts into laughter as we continue walking toward a clearing where I know the warblers hang out.
As soon as we arrive, Audra snaps into focus mode. She takes her shoulder bag from me, sets out her recording equipment, then scans the tree line, aiming one microphone carefully toward a cluster of birds and the other at the forest in general.
Then she turns back to whisper, "Directional mics. They won't catch other birds or wind, to some extent."
"Got it," I whisper back. "How can I help?"
She shrugs. "Just chill with me for a while?"
I nod, then open the bag I packed earlier. I toss a picnic blanket down beside the equipment so we can sit. "Thank you,” she whispers. “Good idea."
I flash her a wink. "Let's see if this was, too."
I spread out a cheap tablecloth about thirty feet away from the equipment. Luckily, Tidy’s Department Store had one with a pink and orange floral print.
"Apparently these colors attract birds," I whisper. "And this definitely will." I scatter a handful of birdseed over it.
I return to the blanket, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Audra. She looks up at me with wide eyes. "It never even crossed my mind to bring the birds closer."
I shrug, nudging her. "That's why you need a mountain man. We're resourceful as heck.”
She leans forward to reposition one mic so it points directly at the birdseed, then sits back.
Although we keep fairly still as the birds begin to gather on the tablecloth, I feel Audra shift slightly toward me.
First her hip. Then her leg. Then her left arm lands half on her thigh, half on mine.
I lean back slightly on my right arm, positioning it behind her back. Every small movement brings us closer.
I feel her twitch in delight as a blue-winged warbler lands in front of us, then begins snacking. “Is he for real?” she whispers.
“They’re fairly common around here. That one is extra bright, though.”
We watch transfixed as the little guy hops around, eating the seed. The brilliant bright blue of his wings is amplified by his sunshine-y yellow head and body. I notice that this one also has an odd white triangle on his shoulder. It almost looks like military insignia.
Audra leans against me and whispers, “He looks like a cartoon character.”
“Maybe he is.” My hand settles in the center of her back, circling gently. “Maybe we’re living inside an animation. Or maybe this is a shared dream. No way to tell, really.”
She laughs almost silently, burying her head in my shoulder. So far, I like every single thing about Audra. This brand-new pull in the center of my chest is more desperate and vicious than I would have expected. Like I need her. Like she's the thing I've been missing all this time.
I'm just glad that there’s a project I can help her with. I've always felt better when I have a purpose.
It doesn't take long for the news to spread about the all you can eat buffet in the meadow. Half an hour later, Audra has managed to record clear bird calls from at least a dozen distinct species.
"I think I've got plenty of clips." Audra jumps to her feet and packs up her things.
I shake out the picnic blanket, then do the same for the tablecloth. The rest of the birdseed lands on the grass, and the birds find it and start chowing down again after grumbling briefly about being interrupted.
"Any other sounds you need for your project?" I ask.
Audra stares off into the trees, thinking.
"I don't think so. I have rain…and wind…
and waves from a couple of different lakes and the ocean.
" She looks up at me, eyes gleaming. "Unless you happen to know of the perfect babbling brook.
Rivers don't make the right noise, unless there are rocks and things for them to dance over—"
"Follow me." I hoist our bags and return to the trail, Audra hurrying to walk beside me.
"What do you mean? Is there a river nearby?"
I want to tell this beautiful girl that anything she needs, I will find for her. "Let’s see."
Several minutes later, she squeals with delight. “I can hear it! That's exactly the kind of sound I need. You’re amazing."
Two minutes later, we approach the bend in the river where it narrows, splashing and creating tiny waterfalls. Audra wastes no time setting up, whipping out headphones to help her figure out exactly where to position the microphone.
After some fiddling, she fits it into a tripod, then backs away slowly. With her fingers wrapped around my arm, I follow her lead, retreating until we’re about thirty feet away, tucked into the forest.
"Do you mind waiting for ten minutes or so?" she asks. "With a longer clip, I can blend it better to make it a continuous forty-five-minute loop."
"I'm happy to wait as long as you like."
She smiles, then glances back toward her equipment.
"Don't move." I pull out my phone and edge away from her.
"What are you doing?"
"Just smile slightly." I take a few photos, watching her eyes light up as I grin like a maniac. Then I show her the best one.
Her hands flutter to her lips. "Oh my… Wow."
A sunbeam glancing through the trees ignites her hair with a soft glow, while the reflected light of several white birch trees to our left show every detail of her lovely face.
Audra holds my arm. "That's… That's the nicest picture I've ever seen of myself."
"I think it’s the most breathtaking photo I've ever taken."
She looks up at me in surprise. I jam my phone back into my pocket, then place my hands on her hips.
"I don't know what's normal on a first date," I murmur. "Don't know what's appropriate. But they say that honesty is the best policy. And honestly, I am going to explode if I don't kiss you immediately. Am I allowed to say that, Audra?"
She blinks, then makes a quick nod, her eyes wide.
“Am I allowed to do that?"
This time she doesn't just nod. Her hands reach up to circle the back of my neck.
I lean down, my breath instantly catching as our lips meet.
Even though our kiss is soft and gentle, my heart begins pounding in my chest like a sledgehammer against granite.
My rough hands slide up her back, cradling her body against mine as I pull us three steps back to lean against a tree.
Audra comes along eagerly, her fingers tangled in the back of my hair, her breasts pressed to my chest. We melt into each other, the kiss growing deeper and more breathless as I move one hand to caress her angelic cheek with my thumb.
"So beautiful," I murmur before tilting my head and kissing her more deeply. I feel her soft moan break into a giggle when a pair of chipmunks runs across a branch directly overhead.
"Are we corrupting innocent forest creatures?" she whispers.
"Maybe. Do we care?"
Her head tips back and forth as if she's thinking about it. I capture her mouth again, this time the kiss growing deep and fiery before mellowing again.
Finally, I take her hands as she steps back. Her eyes are glazed, as if coming out of a dream. "Wow," she whispers. "So that's what people have been going on about."
She laughs as my hands tighten around hers. "That was your first kiss?" I mutter, staring in disbelief.
She shrugs. "I've avoided men my entire life." She looks down at her loose dress. "My mother was obsessed with fashion, so I ignore it. And my father was obsessed with me dating the right boys, so I’ve always refused to have anything to do with them."
"Saucy little rebel." I lean forward to kiss her forehead. "Then… Why me?"
"Because I picked you for myself," she says, her eyes bright. "You're an authentic lumberjack mountain man woodworker guy. You're real."
The pounding of my heart slows down a bit, suddenly feeling cramped in my chest.
Is she still going to think that when she finds out I'm a spoiled bastard who doesn't even have to work for a living?