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"I need to get these cameras set up," she answers, "the least visible, the better, but with as much field of vision as possible."
She reaches into one of the pockets of her pants, the one that sits low on her right thigh, and pulls out a tiny camera. She points at a spot about a foot above her head where she wants the camera hung in the tree and my brain comes up with a list of ways I could help her out that all involve me getting my hands on her.
"No problem," I mutter, taking the camera from her hand and easily reaching up to affix it to a branch. No touching involved.
Why did I have to turn out to be the fucking gentleman in the family?
"So why are you setting up the cameras?" I ask, taking the next one she hands me and putting in the tree she directs me to.
"Have you seen the recent viral videos of Sasquatch?"
"Who hasn't?" I huff a short laugh. "You know they were faked though, right? The university looked 'em over and said they're all AI."
"They are absolutely not fake." Her voice is strong with certainty. The kind of confidence that says she knows what she's talking about.
3
FINCH
"What makes you so sure they aren't fake?"
Every time he speaks in that deep, rumbly voice I'm overcome with the urge to get naked and throw myself at him.
Why does this man have me so flustered?
"Because I shot them."
He stops what he's doing, turning to look at me.
Dark eyes lock with mine before dragging their way down my body slowly. The look is so heavy, so thorough, it might as well be his calloused hands making their way over every inch of my goose-pimpled flesh.
It's like my body is instinctively determined to respond to him. Heat blooms in my blood. Something in my lower belly pulls tight and tugs and moist heat soaks my panties.
"Thought you said the stories up here were just 'folklore?'"
Grateful for a break in the tension, I swallow hard and hope to hell my nipples don't look as hard as they feel.
"Sasquatch isn't responsible for all the people who've gone missing out here--"
"Women," he interjects. "Women who've gone missing. Single women. Every one of 'em."
They were all single women? That's something I didn't know. Still--
"Statistically speaking, it's likely that a lot more than just single women have gone missing, it's just that unaccompanied females are more likely to succumb to the dangers of a remote wilderness and far more likely to get talked about.
"It makes for great gossip," I point out. "But more importantly, those stories serve a purpose as cautionary tales to ensure that people who aren't prepared to survive the woods won't venture into them. Haven't you ever heard the story of Little Red Riding Hood?"
When he tears his eyes off me it feels like he has to put some effort into it.
He reaches back into the tree and finishes securing the last of the cameras where I'd indicated it should go.
"So, you're saying that you took those videos and that they're real? But four hundred years of legends about missing women in this forest are based on parents that didn't want their daughters to wander into the woods?"
"Sasquatch isn't stealing women," I repeat. "They're shy creatures that avoid humans."
"There are scarier things in these mountains than Bigfoot, Sugar."
Yup, there definitely are; like a mountain man that makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt in my life.
