Chapter 27 I Love Not Camping
i love not camping
ROXANNE
I’ll never understand why people camp for fun.
Human beings spent centuries improving shelter to get away from the elements—and now we call it recreation to sleep outside again.
Hey, I love a good hike through a nature preserve, but I also love not camping.
Give me a hot shower and a soft bed over a sleeping bag any day.
Still, an invitation to Fire Circle isn’t something I can refuse.
So here I am, riding in the back of a Razor at high noon, bumping down a dirt road toward the woods for a two-day campout.
My stomach’s a whole marching band of nerves, but under it is something else—a spark of resolve. I can do this. I will do this.
I squeeze Allie’s hand so tightly she cringes. Duke drives Rusty, Allie, and me while Topper leads the second Razor with Garrett, Stedman, and Millie. Georgia’s Jeep cuts the trail ahead with another group of vets.
It's not so bad until the clouds start to build during our ride. That’s one thing I never forgot about Colorado.
The rain comes in quick bursts in the summers.
It never rains for long, but like clockwork, in the afternoon, storm clouds push their way over the mountains, dump on you, make noise, and leave.
My only hope is the weather doesn’t morph into a full-blown storm.
By the time we park the Razors and start the hike, my legs are already questioning my life choices. The trail is narrow and well-worn, shaded by towering pines that creak softly in the breeze. It should feel peaceful, but every crunch of gravel under my boots sounds like a countdown.
Allie and I pass the time by going over some of the production notes she has for the upcoming weeks. When Allie giggles, Topper glances over his shoulder and smiles. Though he’s hiking up ahead, Duke checked in with me when we first parked.
“You good?” he asked.
I turn my chin up. “Never better.”
Lies.
I don’t want him fawning over me and he doesn’t. He smiles, touches my arm, and continues to herd the other vets down the trail with Georgia. Allie and I lag in the back, and I tell myself it’s because I want to observe the others and maybe because it gives me a better view of Duke’s ass.
I blame the altitude for distorting my judgment as I notice how good he looks from behind.
Broad shoulders flexing under the weight of his pack.
Muscular arms tightening each time he adjusts the strap.
That damn tattered baseball cap low on his head, with just enough curl of his sandy brown hair at the base of his neck to make me think wildly inappropriate things for someone on a therapeutic hike.
Occasionally, I catch his bold, blue eyes searching for me, and I smile when he finds me.
Wow. Mountain Man Mode: Activated. I hate how much I like it.
Focus, Roxanne. You’re not here to objectify the wilderness guide.
But still, his ass in those jeans. Damn.
He moves through the group with quiet command, pausing to check packs and making sure everyone is accounted for.
Duke gives Stedman and Millie space to lead, but he’s always watching over his flock.
When we reach a steeper stretch, Garrett starts falling back a little, muttering under his breath.
Duke drops beside him and says something too low for me to hear.
Whatever it is, Garrett huffs and rolls his eyes, but keeps moving.
Duke claps a hand on his shoulder, grins, and the tension in Garrett’s posture softens.
And here I am trying not to trip over my feelings.
“Roxanne?” Allie asks, jabbing me in the arm.
“What? Oh, yes. That sounds good.”
Allie smiles and shakes her head. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“I did, I did … no, I didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view myself.” Her gaze lands on Topper.
He’s the opposite of Duke in every way, but still his compliment. Where Duke is quiet gravity, Topper is golden sunlight. He’s all lean muscle and sun-touched skin, with the kind of shoulders that suggest he catch you mid-fall without breaking a sweat.
My heart is so full when I see Allie light up around him.
She’s spent her life dating emotionally unavailable, man bun poets who still live with their mothers.
I have a feeling Topper would build her a house with his bare hands, massage her feet, and be there with a pint of ice cream if she ever shed a tear.
“So what are you going to do?” I ask her as she walks with her eyes forward and a lazy smile on her lips.
“Me?”
“Yes, at the end of summer when you are madly in love with this man and you can’t take him with you?”
Her shoulders lift when she blows out a long breath. “We did talk about it.”
“What? When?”
“After dinner the other night.”
“Have you slept with him?”
“That’s the crazy thing,” she says, leaning in. “No, I mean, he kissed me the other night, behind the barn of all places.”
“Yes, I called it,” I nod. “How was it?”
“Toe-curling, thigh-tingling, flutterfly-producing heaven.”
“Oh my. I don’t understand … how did you not roll around in the proverbial hay right there?”
“Well, it was all hands, and teeth, and my top flying into the bushes. I never found it.”
I giggle. “And yet you stopped?”
“You won’t believe this, he actually said…” her voice drops, “‘I want you, Allie. Don’t think for a second I don’t, but you deserve more than me slamming you up against the back of the barn.’”
“Really? But being slammed up against the back of a barn in a moment of passion is right up your alley.”
“Oh, it is. We kind of got interrupted.”
“By who?” I glance at her, hoping Duke or Rusty didn’t stumble upon them.
“Dudley.”
“D … Dudley? Is that a new ranch hand?”
“He’s a goat.”
I can’t stop laughing as Allie details how she and Topper had to chase Dudley back into his pen.
“Topper’s a good man.”
“He is. Want to know the best part?”
“Absolutely.”
“He gave me a nickname.”
“Wow, this is serious,” I say. “So what is it?”
“Bubbles.”
My nonstop giggling catches Duke’s attention. He flashes a sexy smile my way and I almost trip on a rock. “Bubbles, um, I love it.”
“I know. I can’t stop calling him Wyatt, and he calls me Bubbles. What a world.”
“And this brings me back to my original question. What are you going to do?”
“Savor every last moment of this summer.”
Duke stops ahead and points toward a clearing near a riverbank. “Welcome to, what we call, Hawk Hollow. Built it out last year. Ground’s fire-safe, and we’ve got fresh water from the river. We bring each new group here at least once.”
It’s clear the space was carved out with intention.
The ground is level and cleared of debris.
A few weathered benches made from thick logs surround a stone fire pit that feels more intricate than the setting should allow for.
At the camp’s edge, the river flows fast and cold.
The trees surrounding us are thick and green, dappled with late-summer sunlight.
I don’t usually feel safe in the woods, but somehow Duke’s made this place feel different. For once, my brain isn’t scanning for exits. I’m just … here. Allie leaves my side to chat with Topper and Georgia while Duke directs everyone where to set up their tents. He then makes his way to me.
“What do you think, Trouble?” he asks.
“It’s …” I set my pack down on the ground. “It’s lovely. I can’t deny it.”
“Great, need help with your tent?” he asks.
“I think I can manage.”
More lies.
Duke heads off to help with the fire and I catch Topper stealing a kiss from Allie. I’m glad Dudley isn’t here to break up the love fest they mostly likely have planned for tonight.
I can’t help but smile, but it quickly fades. The light dims and the air tightens. When the first raindrop hits the back of my hand, it’s like the universe is saying, don’t get too comfortable.