“Why would you willingly do that when you probably had a perfectly usable tent?”
At that, he twisted to look at her. “Why did you really come on Do or Die?”
“Because my manager set it up to repair my reputation. To get back into the public’s good graces. Because everyone loves a winner, right?”
Shep simply sat there as if waiting for the real reason.
“Because I don’t know who I am anymore.” Her words came out in a whisper. “I’ve been playing some weird popularity contest for the past decade, and I have no idea if that’s what I want anymore.”
“People like your music.”
But did she? Did she like what she’d built? What she’d become?
She wasn’t sure she had anything inside her that was truly worth other people’s regard and respect. Because she wasn’t sure she had anything inside her that she could respect.
She’d gone from playing music she loved in dive bars to superstardom and all it encompassed. She’d believed her own press, believed she was Scarlet Glitterati. What the hell did she need the guys for when she was the one everyone idolized?
She was no idol. Most days, she barely felt alive.
Until she’d come to North Carolina.
“I… I think I needed to figure out something.”
“And have you?” Shep exchanged Puck’s container for the bladder he’d given to Joss.
“I’m still working on it,” she said, walking over and taking the container collecting liquid from the tree. “Let me hold this while you take care of Puck.”
Puck poured maple sap water into Puck’s collapsible bowl, and the dog lapped at the stuff that had come from the tree and looked up at Shep as if asking what he’d been served.
“It’s all we’ve got right now,” Shep told his dog. “So drink up.”
Puck put his head back down and emptied his bowl. For some reason, that loosened the tight sickness that had been Joss’s constant companion from the second she’d seen Moody hanging from that branch. “Puck will be okay, right?”
“Bradley wasn’t wrong. Dogs do drink from toilets. They’re pretty hardy. But it’s still best if they have a clean water supply. As long as he’ll drink this, he’ll be fine.” Shep capped the water container and eyeballed the one she was holding against the tree. “That’ll do for now. Enough for us to get down the trail some and make camp. Let’s get going.”
Shep hadn’t been kidding when he said this hike would be more challenging. Up to now, they’d either been gaining elevation or cutting across the mountain, so Joss hadn’t realized just how hard hiking downhill was on the knees. The switchbacks they were forced to take helped, but this trek was still more challenging than the ones up the mountain.
But she wasn’t about to complain. She was alive to feel pain, unlike Buffalo Moody. Don’t think about his feet, his face, the fear he must’ve felt.
“We need to find you a little food before we make camp.” Shep waved her off the trail into a small meadow. “There’s usually some Queen Anne’s lace—wild carrot—in this area.”
Although she wanted to sit right there in the middle of the trail and let him hunt and gather, Joss just smiled. “I’m not even that hungry.”
“You will be,” he said. “And you need the fuel for a full day tomorrow.”
And there was Puck. “Will he eat wild carrot?”
Shep smiled at her. “This dog is pretty much a canine garbage can. About the only thing we’ve found he won’t eat is my mom’s eggplant bread.”
“Eggplant bread? I don’t blame him. What about kale?”
“Yep.”
“Avocado?”
“Loves it.”
As horribly as it had started out, her day was taking a good turn. Shep and Puck simply made Joss happy. “How about lime?” she teased.
“Not his favorite, but he’s been known to give it a taste.”
“He’s like an everything-a-vore.”
“Means he’s easy to please. Unlike some people.”
Hopefully, he meant The Shitheads, because Joss would not be one of those people. Not tonight. Not ever again. “What are we looking for?”
“A plant with small white flowers in an umbrella shape with three-pronged bracts under the flowers. The leaves look like a fern or flat-leaf parsley and when you crush them, they smell a bit like carrots.”
Determined to be the one who found dinner, Joss scanned the forest floor as they walked through the trees. There were plenty of leaves and what looked like briars with the summer berries long gone. “Parsley, parsley, parsley,” she whispered under her breath.
Wait! Was that…
Little white flowers in the shape of bursting fireworks. Yes!
She rushed over and knelt down to yank it out of the ground. “I found it! I found dinner!”
Shep glanced her way. “Don’t pull that.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s poison hemlock. If we eat that, we’ll both overproduce saliva, have convulsions, and possibly go into respiratory and renal failure.”
Well, that was picturesque. This was harder than she’d imagined. Joss sighed and got back to her feet. “So when you came out here by yourself, you lived off the land?”
“Plants, nuts, and small game.”
“Oh.”
“You’re against hunting, aren’t you?”
“I… never really had to think about it. Hunting your own meat in LA means stopping by the butcher counter and asking for a special cut of steak.” But she was curious about how Shep had hunted. “So you brought a gun with you?”
“No.” He gave her such an offended look that Joss laughed.
“You’re telling me you caught animals with your bare hands?”
“It’s possible, of course,” he said. “But no. I constructed a small trap. And I made a bow and arrow.”
“Made. You just whipped up a bow and arrow out of thin air?”
“No.” He snorted. “I made it from a hickory sapling and some string. I did bring a knife with me. I don’t go anywhere without a knife.”
“Even to the airport? I can’t see you getting through security with something like that.”
“I don’t fly.”
“What?” Was he scared, too? She stared at him, mouth open wide enough that some forest bug zoomed in and down her throat. She coughed until her eyes watered. When Shep gave her two hard pats to the back, she waved him off. Finally, she wheezed out, “I think I just got my protein for the day.”
He grinned. “Bugs are definitely another food source.”
Joss swallowed a dozen times, imagining she could still feel the insect lodged in her throat, little wings vibrating in hopes of a desperate escape. She popped herself in the chest with her fist. Gah—what had it been? A moth, a mosquito, a fly?
Fly. That was what had started this whole debacle. “You said you don’t fly,” she wheezed at Shep.
“Yep.”
“Fear of flying?”
“Not really. I don’t like crowded places. And airplanes are crowded and stuffy and noisy. They’re packed with people.”
“So how do you travel?”
“Drive mostly,” he said, turning to a plant that looked almost identical to the one she’d pointed out. “But I don’t do it all that much, either.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Extensive travel was a given in her profession. Planes, trains, tour buses, limos. She’d done it all except for space travel. What would it be like to live in a nice little town instead of constantly being rushed from one concert to another?
“We’re pretty different.” Shep’s voice was low and Joss felt as if he was pulling away from her even though his body remained in the same place. “I like where I live. Plenty of space to be outside. My sister Riley goes all over the world for her research. Loves it. That’s just not for me.” With his fingertips, he rolled a couple of the plant leaves and held them out to her nose.
Hm. It did smell like carrot.
Joss looked
closely at the plant Shep was gathering from, then spotted another a few feet away. She pointed it out to him and he nodded, so she began gathering the Queen Anne’s lace. “You shouldn’t apologize for living a life that you like. Do you have any idea how many people hate their lives? They have no idea until they wake up one morning and realize they’re trapped in something they never really meant to get into in the first place.”
“Has that ever happened to you?”
Yes, but she’d tried to go the opposite direction. Push away the doubts and double down. Become even more of what she was beginning to question. “I don’t think I want to talk about this.”
His brows lowered and mouth flat, he looked over at her. “I’m sorry. I tend to push when I want to know something. I don’t always understand boundaries. It’s none of my business.”
Now she’d hurt his feelings and made him feel uncertain. That was the last thing Joss wanted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an open and honest relationship with someone else. After all, she’d been lying to her band for months before she betrayed them.
Jerry was probably the one person she’d always been upfront with, but that was sad, considering she’d paid his salary.
Joss joined Shep and handed him the plants she’d gathered. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she said softly. “I… It’s just that you’re making me look at myself in ways that make me uncomfortable. You’re asking me to say things aloud that I’ve never been able to.”
“Forget I asked.”
She placed a hand on his upper arm, remembered to grip instead of caress. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Me, on the other hand, I’ve done plenty.” She glanced up. The sun was starting to dip, which meant they needed to get going. “Do we have enough food for tonight?”
“Yeah.” Shep brushed the dirt off the plants and carefully put them in his pack.
When they were back on the trail, they didn’t restart the conversation, which gave Joss a little breathing room. Allowed her to enjoy once again the sound of bird calls and the breeze through the tree branches. Made the trees seem friendlier, less menacing than earlier in the day.
Shep did that, made her feel safe and centered.
He led her and Puck into a clearing covered in lush grass and ringed with flowers that ranged from the palest of yellows to majestic gold. It was stunning, the kind of place hiking tour companies might feature on their websites. The air was cool and untainted. Something about the way the trees ringed the area made it feel magical and protected, as if a spell had been cast to lure in travelers.
“This is gorgeous,” she said. “Did you know this was here?”
Shep ducked his head and turned away, but not before Joss spotted a patch of pink high on his cheeks. “It’s just a place to sleep, like any other.”
No, it wasn’t. It could’ve been a bridal bower. A place to celebrate, laugh, and love. Whether Shep would admit it or not, he’d stopped here for her. “Could I hug you?” she asked. “I could really use a hug right now.”
“I guess.”
The poor guy stood in the center of the clearing as if he was facing a firing squad, arms held awkwardly at his sides. Joss went to him and threaded her arms under his. Then she wrapped him in the tightest bear hug she could manage. When she couldn’t hold it anymore, she quickly dropped her arms and backed away.
“That wasn’t terrible,” he said.
The only way to respond was with humor, so Joss grinned up at him. “I’m taking that as a compliment.”
“My turn now,” he said, and wrapped his arms around Joss. Not in a wrestling hold, but a sweet, gentle embrace that softened her heart. How had he understood exactly what she needed? “Relax. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
It felt so good, so right, so natural to loop her arms around his waist and rest her head lightly against his chest. They were like a couple, like two people who cared for one another and wanted to comfort each other. Even Puck got in on the act by sitting next to them and leaning heavily against their legs.
“This is really, really nice,” Joss whispered.
“Maybe The Shitheads did us a favor by taking off.”
Maybe they had. And maybe she and Shep would find a way to make the most of it tonight.
16
Since the second Joss pressed her body against his, Shep had been aroused. But they had important things to do and based on the way he’d asked intrusive questions earlier, he doubted Joss was interested in his interest in her.
So he pitched the tent while she fed and watered Puck. With a satisfied sigh, his dog circled three times, curled up, and propped his chin on Joss’s guitar case. Maybe he was hoping she’d play again.
If Shep were being completely honest, which he was 99.6 percent of the time, he wanted her to play. And from the expression on her face last night while she was intent on her guitar, Joss needed to.
“Would you like a fire?” he asked her.
“It’s not like we really have anything to cook.” She looked up and smiled. The day had been hard on her. Her face was smudged, her skin was pale, and her eyes were tired. She needed more than a hug. She needed someone to take care of her, and not just by providing her with shelter, water, and food.
“There’s a waterfall not far from here,” he blurted out. “With a small pool at the base. We could swim. It’ll be a little cold, but we can make camp near there afterward. Have a fire.”
“That would be wonderful.” Her smile didn’t look quite so tired now. Shep’s chest felt unreasonably warm all the sudden, and he rubbed at it.
He scrounged up two small microfiber cloths The Shitheads hadn’t taken to use as towels. Although he knew the way to the falls, he was careful to notice landmarks. The old sweet birch had lost a couple more limbs since the last time he was here, but it was still crooked at the top. He pointed it out to Joss. “One of the reasons you have to be careful when you hike away from the trail is because people actually tend to walk in circles when they get lost. Some people have a natural sense of direction, but most don’t. Only those people who are very observant and know their landmarks will stay calm when they find themselves farther from the trail than they planned.”
“Do you do that? Catalog landmarks?”
“Always,” he said. “Less because I need them. I’ve always had a good sense of direction, but more because it forms a pattern.”
“You like patterns. Like the patterns of the knots you tie? It seems to soothe you.”
“Most people don’t understand that about me.”
“I think we already determined that I’m not most people.”
Shep reached out for her, took her hand. He held it in a firm grip, but didn’t feel the need to apply more pressure. This was just right. Joss was just right.
“Tell me about where we’re going,” she said.
“It’s a small waterfall that most people never hike out to see. It’s not one of the big ones like Linville Falls. It’s also not near a more popular trail, so they don’t bother with it. But it’s pretty and quiet.”
“Sounds perfect.”
The sound of the waterfall hit Shep’s ears before it was within view. A rhythmic rushing roar that canceled out other sounds around them. When they cleared the trees surrounding it, Joss said, “Wow.”
The air was cool and moist. It blew with a clean freshness that could revive the most exhausted hiker.
“Set the supplies and Fiona over there.” He pointed to a flat rock out of the direct trajectory of the water spray. “And please secure Puck’s leash to that tulip tree. He would stay on his own, but I don’t want to chance him getting too close to the edge and falling in.”
While Joss clipped Puck to the tree and arranged their meager supplies, Shep scaled the rocks down to a spot where he could reach out and wet the cloths. He climbed back up to Joss. “You… uh… should wipe down before getting into the water. The less stuff we put into it, the better. No soap,
but plain water should do the trick.”
She took the rag and immediately scrubbed her face. “Oh God, that feels good.”
“All over,” he said. “If you want, I can go back down and you can toss the rag to me when you’re finished.”
“Are you asking me if I need my privacy?”
“That is the socially polite thing, isn’t it?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly in the middle of civilization. But if you’ll feel more comfortable, feel free to turn your back.”
“I would feel comfortable watching.”
Joss swept out her hand in an expansive motion, indicating he could make himself comfortable. Shep sat and adjusted his cargos because his dick was already getting hard just from him thinking about Joss taking off her clothes.
He held his breath as she unbuttoned her overshirt and tossed it onto a rock, leaving her in a skimpy tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra, didn’t really need one. When she washed the back of her neck and under her arms, the fabric pulled tight across her breasts, clearly showing the erect state of her nipples.
He’d never really liked Amber’s breasts. They’d made him feel claustrophobic when she pressed them against his face. Cash said that was probably because Amber was stacked with boobs the size of the Rocky Mountains. “You have small breasts.”
Joss paused and looked down at him. “Yep. Want to know the exact minuscule cup size?”
“That wasn’t the right thing to say, was it?”
“It’s the truth.”
“But it’s not flattering or romantic.”
“I’m finding that I don’t need flattery and romance from you.” Off came her hiking shoes. She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants, then shimmied them down her legs and kicked them off. She stood there, within touching distance, in bright pink panties and that tank top.
She really was small all over—narrow hips, slim legs, ankles he could easily circle with his fingers.
One by one, each muscle in Shep’s body was tensing at the visual stimulus in front of him. But maybe that was as far as she planned to go. Although her remaining clothes were probably sweaty, she could certainly choose to swim in those.
Striking Edge Page 17