by Kent, Julia
She, on the other hand, felt like a giant cotton ball right now. A sweaty, huffing cotton ball. Who wanted nothing more than to relax in a hammock with a pitcher of sangrias.
And an oxygen tank.
Yet here she was, about a quarter mile from the summit of some crazy-ass hill that he wanted her to climb to the top of. She could expand her horizons. This was something new. He was sweet, quiet, kind of taciturn—but not in a bad way. Nothing was awkward. Nothing was uncomfortable. He was just a man who didn’t talk too much. He preferred, obviously, to act, to stretch, to move— to move up that damn hill. Which she now stared at as if she were looking at the top of Mount Everest.
“So, we’re really going to climb up that?” she asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“Yep, we really are!” he grinned. “But,” he patted the log next to him where he’d sat down, stretching out his long legs, his arms toned and golden, eyes kind and nervous. “We can take a short break.”
“A short break?” Eek. She didn’t mean to sound so overwhelmed, but if she paused, took a deep breath, and did an inner inventory, she had to admit that this hike was killing her. This may be her true walk of shame, especially if Mike had to call 911 and have her hauled down this mountain on a hand-held stretcher. With her luck, Dylan would be the paramedic on call.
Don’t think about Dylan!
“OK, a long break.” His hearty laugh put her at ease. What was most comfortable, though, was what he didn’t say— how he just moved from laughter to quiet, the silence self-composed and genuine. He wasn’t shifting around or twitching in his own skin. He just wasn’t going to say anything if he didn’t have anything to say, and yet his nonverbal communication was calm and sweet. Mike was just there, with Laura, and the two were spending time together. That was enough.
She liked this. It was new. Time and space were enough, and as the seconds unfolded gradually into minutes, the minutes now more than an hour, she felt like she was spending time in a bubble with this new man, learning an entire new language of mindfulness.
“Whew,” she said, collapsing on the log next to him, trying to suck in her belly at the same time as her hamstrings cried out in relief.
Laura suddenly felt like a complete ass, her calm focus from just seconds ago vanquished, replaced by a self-consciousness that was most unwelcome. Not exactly experienced with dates like this, she’d overdressed and now, many miles into this hike, she was dripping with sweat, her hair limp and plastered against the edges of her face, her body flushed with the heat and the exertion of this trek up this crazy tall hill. She felt about as feminine as a wet tissue and yet that kernel of woman in her did have a spark of femininity, because she was responding to Mike in ways that shocked her.
Her body should have been spent from the night with Dylan. Rather than finding herself halting or tentative, it was as if what she had done with Dylan the night before had opened her up like a flower blossoming, giving permission to show its true colors and to spread itself in full glory—and right now, Laura was ready to spread herself again.
Easy, girl, she told herself as she stole another look at Mike.
What was it about these two? Dylan was incredible last night and yet she’d already crossed him off her mental list of eligible partners because the guy obviously had a girlfriend—or, worse, a wife. Who keeps the pictures of some gorgeous woman all over the place in their bedroom otherwise? And now here she was, less than fifteen hours after sneaking out of Dylan’s house and heading home for what she thought would be a nice, big cry and a pint of ice cream, finding herself with yet another incredibly hopeful relationship staring her in the face.
Literally. She looked up and realized that Mike was watching her, his head cocked to the side, a little half grin making him look boyish and absolutely adorable. “What are you thinking, Laura?” he asked.
“Uh...” she stammered, completely unwilling to tell him what she was really thinking. “Oh, I was just marveling at how beautiful it is here.”
“Yeah it’s amazing isn’t it?” Was he staring at her to tell her that those words had a double meaning? She felt shy, suddenly, and tucked a clump of wet hair behind her ear, feeling her face flush with bashfulness. A rising heat between her legs didn’t help, either. Her body was telling her that they were alone, out in the woods, he was gorgeous and attentive, and—
“So you work here?” She forced herself to ask the question, to break her thought loop out of its rush, because if she didn’t, pretty soon she would just plain old jump him.
“Well, yeah in the winter, but I just thought I’d bring you up here on a hike right now, because the canyon looks so much better. Different—when it’s not covered with snow and skiers. Actually it’s kinda nice to be here when I’m not on duty and worrying about some teenager who breaks a leg or some eight year old who can’t grab the tow rope properly and gets dragged up the hill.” He chuckled and she joined him. That was the most she had heard out of his mouth in one continuous stretch since she’d met him.
He seemed so good-natured, didn’t talk much, was kind of quiet— and she liked that way more than she ever would have imagined. It was really different from Dylan, who was so gregarious, open and extroverted. There was a quiet depth to Mike that she found refreshing. Most guys she’d met on the dating site were either out for a piece of ass or to just sit there on a date and talk themselves up. Nobody had ever asked her out on a hiking date and she was starting to realize that this guy was different, this guy was special— and she hoped she was special enough for him.
“Shh!” he said, grabbing her arm suddenly, the pressure of his fingers more urgent than arousing. “Look!” he hissed, pointing into the woods. She leaned into him, craning her head to see what he was pointing to, taking advantage of the moment to get that much closer, to cross the silent boundary between them and to bridge the gap in those first seconds of contact that you never get back.
She could smell him this close and he smelled like pine and sweat and something more— a sporty musk that seemed to turn on her inner sensors, making her instantly flushed, a lump forming in her throat that told her that there was definitely a spark of chemistry here. An inner bliss poured into her veins, channeling through her, making every pore hum and relax as she reveled in the newness of Mike.
“What is it?” she asked.
“There —do you see it?” Two deer stood deep in the woods munching on the bark of a tree. The mother perked her head up, turned to her fawn, and looked back at Laura and Mike with a precision only animals could possess. The doe nudged her baby and the two ran off into the woods, not so much scared as careful. You never know about humans; they’re just as likely to be friend as foe, and Laura understood. Goodbye, little Mama, she thought.
“Oh, wow,” Laura said. “That’s really beautiful.” A quick glance showed he was watching the animals as intently as she was, yet also attuned to the tension between them, now shifting from the sheer simplicity of first contact to a journey of unspoken communication. Blood pulsed through her, beating a rhythm of questions she hoped he could feel and that, in turn, he could decipher. I want you, it said, and the greatest hope inside her was that his return beat would be the message, I want you, too.
The pressure of his fingers lightened, shifting from a grab of urgency to a lingering touch that asked a question his mouth couldn’t— or wouldn’t—ask. Two seconds, Laura, she told herself, two seconds to just start to breathe before turning and looking at him. Was that his return beat? The feel of his fingertips was agonizingly puzzling, for it could mean nothing or, if she was right, it could mean everything.
When she turned, body perked like the doe’s, heightened by animal instinct, she saw it in his eyes, too, as Mike leaned down and took her lips with his.
Bringing Laura up here had been a dicey move. He hadn’t really thought much about his request to make a first date out of a hike, but then again he wasn’t exactly Mr. Suave. And this was his life, so sharing it wit
h someone upfront made a certain kind of sense to him. Get reality out of the way and if the other person still wanted to see him, then great. If not, they didn’t waste their time and could move on. If only everything were so simple. Dating, so far, hadn’t been, no matter how hard he tried to make it cut and dried.
He found solace—he found peace—he found meaning and fun and even excitement in the woods, on the slopes, on a long run. When he ran, his mind turned off and something deeper turned on. An awareness of being that he only got from the pounding of his soles against the pavement, against the dirt, on the trail.
Most people didn’t like the way he lived. It was too different, too quiet, too introspective and too focused on doing and not focused enough on talking or posturing or obvious displays of status or of involvement in things that just didn’t matter to him. He wanted to move. He wanted to run. He wanted to ski. He wanted to help people. And to his surprise, as he’d reached adulthood, he’d found that there weren’t that many women, or men for that matter, who valued that.
He watched Laura closely and had liked what he saw. She wasn’t an outdoors type but she was gamely marching on up this hill; he could tell she wasn’t a hiker. He could tell she wasn’t the type who would, on her own, take the initiative and go for a long bike or a run or a swim. She certainly wasn’t a triathlete, but she had a gentleness about her and openness and a willingness to just be that he didn’t find in many people.
He didn’t find it in any people other than, strangely enough, Dylan—and then in Jill. And so when he leaned in to kiss Laura, he surprised himself; that was the last thing he expected he would do on a first date. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who wined and dined women, and yet this felt right. It felt perfect.
Something in him deepened as their mouths met, as he reached for her, as he claimed those curves for his own. In that moment, he rose up and a finesse, a sophistication that he knew was there but buried very deep, surged to the surface. This woman was his, in his arms as she softened, opening up to him, their tongues intertwining. He would definitely not be just sharing this woman with Dylan. They would be partners with this woman.
Arousal burst through his veins, like a pump turned on, a switch flipped, with a sudden explosion of want and need and lust. Hungry for more of her in his hands, on his lips, against his body, he searched her, like going on a journey through another person’s land, and found that his need to explore was absolutely endless. His erection pressed against her leg as she leaned into him pushing, searching, wanting. The two joined in an obvious mutual exploration that made him wish he had asked her to his cabin for dinner so that a bed were handy.
And then his mind slipped into that place it went when he ran, when he skied, when he hiked. He had never been able to access that part of himself through anything but heavy exertion or laser-like focus on the kinesthetics of life, but here, here he found himself shifting. A subtle and then suddenly dramatic movement from one layer of life to another.
As her hands roamed over his shoulders, felt his back, tightened over his waist and went elsewhere, he filled with a warmth, with an urgency that eighteen months of grief and denial and restraint and constraint had allowed to grow into something so strong, something so big that it was in their kiss, and her touch unleashed it, here and now.
It just was. Endless and timeless and present, exactly as it had been with Jill.
But more.
Oh, my God, what was she doing? She still had Dylan’s taste in the back of her throat, Dylan’s scent on parts of her skin in spite of her thorough shower this morning, Dylan’s essence deep inside her—and here she was in the arms of another man. A godlike, amazing, muscular man. She felt his warmth underneath his clothes and wanted desperately to feel his skin without the layer between them.
How could this be happening? How could two incredible men want her and within twenty-four hours of each other? This was...her mind went blank as Mike probed her mouth, his tongue filled with more questions and answers, his hands thick and strong, grabbing and caressing and owning parts of her. Her own questions faded, melted into the warm wetness of his mouth and she knew, just knew on some deep level, some layer within herself that she didn’t even know she had, that this was so much more than she ever anticipated when that little chat window had popped up this morning.
Thank whatever higher power she was supposed to thank for that little chat window.
His hot breath filled her and then cool air touched her lips as he pulled away. The sound of his deep breath, an intentional, centering breath that she recognized instantly, filled her with uncertainty. Was he having second thoughts? All these extra curves weren’t exactly accessories she figured were standard features on the women Mike normally dated. Those were the weekend yoga babes, the women who competed in mini-triathlons for fun and who went on 100-mile weekend bike rides just because. They were a different kind of woman than Laura. Hell, they might as well have been a different species. What would Mike want with her, with all her soft rolls and overflowing cups and dimples and apple cheeks and—
Had she gone too far in kissing him? Wait a minute, now— he was the one who initiated the kiss. He had kissed her. She had nothing to worry about; she’d done nothing premature. C’mon, Laura, she thought to herself, just stop this. This is crazy. Her old insecurities flooded her as she tipped her head down, averting his eyes, his hand still on her shoulders, one trailing a lazy path down the side of her rib cage, brushing briefly against her breast.
He let go of her shoulder and reached up to her chin, tipping it, forcing her to meet his eyes. What she saw there told her everything she needed to know. She laughed nervously, “I don’t normally do this, you know?”
“Do what?” His voice was smoky with need. It had changed. The affable, slightly awkward man she’d started this hike with had suddenly evolved into a determined, commanding, dominant man.
“I don’t normally go on long hikes with guys and then kiss them before we reach the summit. Typically, I wait until we get to the top.”
He smiled. “OK, then I have something to look forward to. Come on.” He pointed to the trail head.
She groaned. “All right, if you insist.”
He held his hand out in a gesture of chivalry, “Ladies first.”
“Promise?” she asked, the word popping out of her mouth before she could take it back.
He cocked one eyebrow, a lascivious look, “Oh, you can count on it.”
What was she doing basically promising this guy that she was going to have sex with him when they reached the top of the mountain? Earth to Laura! She had to laugh at herself on the inside, trying to hide the racing thoughts from Mike. The pounding of her inner voice was so strong, so loud and so pervasive that she feared everything going on inside her head was so obvious that he could read her.
As he took her hand, intertwining their fingers, and they walked slowly at Laura’s pace up to the top, she felt herself tip over. This was something new and this was something good and she wasn’t going to let that ridiculous doubting voice inside her ruin it.
With each step she felt her energy rebound, her heart rate steadying and her body finding some sort of equilibrium to keep pumping herself up, to manage the trail and to climb higher. Perhaps it was the excitement of Mike’s kiss, his proximity, of the promise of something more when they reached their goal. Silly though it seemed, that made her live in the moment, and when they finally reached the end, the view really was otherworldly.
So was Mike’s touch.
Just don’t sleep with him, that little voice chided her. Don’t be that kind of woman. Wait one more date. In some ways, she hated that voice, but this time it really was right. Sleeping with Mike this soon after Dylan would seem crass. Over the top. Unfair to Mike.
Unfair to her. She needed a few days off from everyone to just think this through. Of course, she’d never see Dylan again. That was a done deal. However, she still had unresolved feelings for him, and that meant clearing her mind
. Couldn’t do that with Mike’s tongue in her mouth.
Or his dick in her—
“Hey? That’s an interesting look. What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Talk about a loaded question. Laura struggled to answer. He peered at her, seemed to really study her, and it was as if he knew. Knew what she was thinking, understood the demons she wrestled with, and was being respectful—but still curious. If it weren’t 100 percent impossible for him to have any idea about her date with Dylan last night (this morning) she would have thought he was giving her space to think things through.
That was just crazy, though.
His arm reached for her, pulled her into his embrace, her back to his chest, and he settled in, holding her as if they’d done this a million times. Inhaling deeply, she relaxed into the hold, feeling like they had done this forever. How could this be? Why did she feel so settled with him already—and yet so excited to get to know him, all at the same time? She examined his forearms, bare and wrapped around her ribs and chest. Light, sandy hair dotted the arms, which were deeply freckled, though the spots were light. A few scars, but nothing that spoke of severe trauma. No ring, and no tell-tale white skin where a ring normally resided. He did wear an old-fashioned friendship bracelet, the kind she hadn’t seen since she was a young teen.
“What’s that?” She fingered the thin, braided band, faded from red and blue to a pale pink and blah-ish gray color. Changing the subject might help her escape more scrutiny about her thoughts.
He tensed, his wrist starting to pull back, and then he paused, taking a deep breath that she felt against her back. How rare, she thought. A man who took the handful of seconds to consider his actions, to be deliberate. Whatever response he was about to give her, she knew, would be forthright and honest, coming from a deep center she wanted to touch.