Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
She groans but follows me into the woods—right where I want her. The trail crunches under our boots as we walk, sunlight filtering golden beams that make the place feel almost magical. Or possibly haunted. Hard to tell.
Two minutes in, I stop dead in my tracks and point with great authority at a suspiciously large mound of dirt. “Evidence,” I whisper.
She glances down. “That’s a molehill.”
I shrug. “Bigfoot’s mole.”
Lucy shakes her head, laughing, and grabs my hand, dragging me farther down the trail.
We walk on, and every now and then I pause dramatically to point out another “clue,” and every time she meets me with pure, unfiltered sarcasm.
Honestly? She is goals.
Following the winding trail, she teases me with every step. I of course pretend to take this mission deadly serious.
I stop again, holding up a hand like a park ranger. “Shhh.”
“Oh God—what now?”
I point to a low-hanging branch that looks freshly bent. “New break.”
Lucy gives me a shove as we move along the trail. “You’re such a goofball.”
When we make it to a little clearing that Monty McNair—owner of the hardware store—told me about, I set the tackle box down on a stump with great ceremony.
“Time to bait the legend!” I announce, pulling out a handful of M&M’s and sprinkling them dramatically in the grass.
“Is this considered littering?” She glances around nervously, as if waiting for the actual park ranger to jump out of the woods. “I don’t think we’re supposed to feed the animals.”
I pop one in my mouth and roar, “I am the animal!”
Lucy groans, but she’s smiling, that kind of smile that crinkles her nose and makes me want to kiss her senseless.
Before I can make another ridiculous proclamation, there’s rustling in the underbrush.
Her eyes go wide. “What was that?”
I halt, holding the bag of M&M’s midair. More rustling.
Lucy freezes. “If this is one of your teammates in a gorilla suit, I swear to God I’m slashing your tires.”
More rustling. I square my shoulders, ready to take on a mythical beast.
Out strolls . . .
A deer.
Trepidatiously. Tentatively. It blinks at us curiously, one foot in front of the other, walking toward my carefully placed M&M offerings. It steps forward, daintily sniffs the candy—and promptly starts eating.
“Holy shit. I almost crapped my pants.” Lucy has her hand on her heart and is breathing heavy. “I thought we were about to die.”
Honestly? Same.
The deer flicks its tail.
Lucy collapses onto the grass, still laughing. Her hair spills around her, fanning out and framing her face like a halo. “I cannot believe you dragged me out here for this.”
I flop down beside her. “You love it.”
“I do,” she says, turning her head toward me, nose crinkled, eyes shining. “You’re ridiculous. It’s perfect.”
She takes my hand as we gaze up through the clearing in the trees. The sky is streaked with shades of pink and orange, the last light of the day filtering through the evergreens like something out of a postcard.
The breeze rustles the branches above us, and somewhere off in the distance, an owl hoots. “I feel like we’re in a nature documentary,” she whispers.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Bigfoot hunting? No.”
I shake my head. “Hiking.”
“Sure—of course.”
Our gazes find the sky again. For a moment, neither of us says anything. The forest settles around us, crickets chirping, the air cooling as night sets in.
Her voice drifts over. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Always.”
“What would you have done if you had found Bigfoot?”
Shit my pants. Run.
But I clear my throat and say, with as much dignity as I can muster, “I would’ve offered him candy and taken a selfie. Obviously.” I roll onto my side and prop my head up on my elbow. “Okay. Your turn.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“If you’d actually seen Bigfoot tonight,” I ask, “what would you have done?”
She considers this for a long, long moment. Grins. “Asked him if he’s single.”
“Ouch!” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Betrayal.”
She shrugs. “He’s tall, mysterious, and elusive. What’s not to like?”
I grin and lean in closer. “I’m tall, mysterious, and only elusive when I’m trying to avoid press conferences.”
She hums, pretending to consider. “Close second.”
I tackle her with a playful growl, and she squeals, laughing beneath me, her smile wide and real and perfect. Pinning her hands gently above her head, I gaze down at her.
Her chest rises and falls with laughter, but there’s something softer in her eyes now—something that makes my breath catch.
Her smile is slow. Sweet. “I don’t even know what to do with you anymore.”
“Good,” I say, mouth dangerously close to hers. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Bigfoot would approve.”
Her lips part to say more, but I kiss her.
It starts playful. Light. Quickly deepens.
Lucy’s hands twist out of my grip and thread through my hair, driving me the tiniest bit crazy. She pulls at it . . .
Tugs . . .