45. Wren
WREN
A day after Boone has a good checkup with the doctor in town, I suggest the four of us go for a short hike.
The man still isn’t going to be allowed to chop wood for at least another month, but hopefully a little exertion in the fresh air will satisfy him.
“Light hiking,” I emphasize. “No scrambling up steep inclines, no racing, no carrying me.”
He nods along agreeably until I get to the last point. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Boone settles for holding my hand, while Rhett takes the lead, and Cade walks behind. I’m reminded of my first days out here on the trails with the three of them, way back when I was still distracted by their triplet-ness, and trying and failing not to notice how attractive they were.
Even now, after spending so much time looking at three versions of the same face, I still get caught off guard by how handsome they are. How rugged and strong and so incredibly sexy—
“Do you want to slow down, sweetheart?” Boone asks. “Your hand is getting a little sweaty.”
I’ve just been caught thinking dirty thoughts, busted by biology and my body’s response to the mere thought of the Wilder brothers.
“I’m good,” I say. “Besides, I don’t sweat, I glow.”
Rhett stops and turns toward us, and the look in his eyes perfectly matches the thoughts I’d been having. “Both are true. Our girl sweats when we work her hard, and that’s just how I like it.”
My eyes go wide, and I reach out to a nearby tree for support. “If you’re going to say things like that, my legs aren’t going to function the way I need them to.”
Boone and Cade chuckle, then Boone squeezes my hand, gives me a kiss, and encourages me to keep going.
It’s a beautiful day, and recent rain has turned the meadows to a stunning green. We catch sight of a mule deer, who lifts its head from grazing, but decides we’re not a threat. Somewhere high on the ridge, a hawk circles in the sky.
The creek flows, birds sing, and wildflowers bloom, and it’s comforting that the mountain doesn’t seem to remember the gunfire.
We stop at an overlook, where the valley spreads out beneath us. After a minute of admiring the view, Cade pivots and points. “You can see our cabin over there, through the trees.”
Boone slides an arm around my waist, and at first, I think he’s being romantic, but then he lightly tickles my side. “As cozy as the cabin is, I have to admit, this might be the prettiest place we’ve ever fucked.”
“What?” I spin on him, because we’ve done no such thing out here.
“Pardon me,” he says, “I meant this is the prettiest place we’ve ever made love.”
“What are you talking about?”
Behind him, Cade raises an eyebrow. “He’s making a proposal.”
“I can spread my jacket on the ground,” Boone says, “or you can lie on top of one of us. Actually, that sounds—”
“Boone, no.”
Rhett folds his arms across his chest. “I’m listening.”
Boone looks around us. “We’re completely alone.”
“No.”
Then Boone looks at Rhett. “Back me up here.”
“He’s got a point,” Rhett says as he looks out toward the treeline, then down at my chest.
“You’re not helping.”
Rhett’s gaze lifts to my lips. “I wasn’t trying to.”
Cade scans the trail ahead of us and behind us. “Visibility’s good in both directions.”
I shake my head, feeling outnumbered. “You too? Just because there’s no one around right now doesn’t mean some hikers couldn’t appear at any moment,” I say. “Not to mention poison ivy, ants, rocks …”
Boone sighs dramatically. “You’re crushing my spirit.”
“All of that aside,” I say, “technically, this is my office now, and I don’t want to get in trouble on my new job.”
Rhett nods gravely. “Probably shouldn’t violate federal policy your first week.”
“The paperwork could be tricky,” Cade adds.
With a devilish smile on his face, Boone makes a show of rubbing his healing shoulder. “In that case, I’m suddenly getting tired,” he says. “Let’s head back. I need to go lie down.”
Rhett takes my hand. “On top of Wren, I’m guessing.”
“Or she can be on top,” Boone says. “I’m fine with either.”
We head back toward the cabin together, and though I’m full of anticipation for what we’ll do when we get there, I’m not in any hurry.
There’s no fear or urgency in our pace. We have a future that stretches far beyond today and tomorrow, and walking back to the cabin feels less like returning to a refuge and more like simply going home.