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“Dwayne Johnson—”
“Jackie Chan!”
We go on for hours. I’m pretty sure I’m making up names by the end, but Tate doesn’t call me out. While trying to think of a name, I fall asleep. When I wake up, I’m surprised to find we’re pulling into a small gas station with a general store attached. “Wow. We’re already here? I can’t believe I slept that long.”
“You were tired.” He reaches over and wipes at the corner of my lip. “Got some drool.”
My lips part, and I slap his hand away. “I don’t drool.” God, tell me I wasn’t drooling.
“Don’t worry. The snoring was worse.”
My jaw drops as his lips curl. “I’m kidding. Come on. Let’s run inside and grab a few things.” He pats my thigh and jumps out. I quickly pull down the visor and look in the mirror, making sure I don’t have crust around my mouth. I wipe at the mascara smeared under my eyes and run my fingers through my hair. Definitely not looking my best, but I climb out anyway. Tate shoves the gas nozzle in the tank, and I shield my eyes from the sun as I take in our surroundings. Yep. Definitely the middle of nowhere. “Where are we?”
“A nowhere town on the border of Vermont.”
“Vermont? Jesus, how long did I sleep—days?”
“Close to it. We still have another forty minutes. If you need to use the bathroom, do it now.”
I salute him and head off toward the restrooms. Task complete, I go in search of necessities. Marshmallows, graham crackers, lots of chocolate. “Woo-hoo, score.” I grab the box of Lucky Charms. By the time I run into Tate, I’m juggling a bag of Doritos, two packages of Twizzlers, and a handful of Slim Jims. Tate, on the other hand, has eggs, bread, cheese, and some kind of meat.
“That’s what you call necessities?” he asks with humor in his tone.
“I mean, is it really camping if you don’t make s’mores?”
“And the Slim Jims?”
I shrug. “Used to be a huge Randy “Macho Man” Savage fan. What’d you get? Hmmm… nothing good. Can you hold this? I need to check out their liquor section.”
When you’re in the boonies, you get boonies options. After we check out, we carry our bags of necessities, one filled with moonshine and homemade hippy juice made of whiskey and more whiskey that came highly recommended by the cashier.
The last leg of the drive is nice. So many hilly roads hidden within beautiful forests. “I see why Vermont is called the ‘Green Mountain State,’” I say, basking in the robust trees and wildlife. “In middle school, this girl in my history class picked Vermont for a project. Learned more than I cared to.”
“What state did you pick?”
I face him. “New York, duh.” Shoving a Twizzler in my mouth, I stare at the breathtaking landscape. Kerry Ann also wasn’t kidding about the humidity.
Before long, Tate turns down a secluded, overgrown road. “You sure there’s a house here?” I ask, amazed he even saw it. “Seems pretty… uh, uninhabited…” As I finish my sentence, a quant wood cabin comes into view. “Wow…” I breathe out, taking in the wraparound porch and stone path leading to a firepit. What steals my attention, though, is the large dock overlooking the lake. “This is all ours?”
“Welcome to your hiding place.”
“Shit, I hope we never get found.” He parks, and I climb out, looking around. “Shame I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” I turn and wiggle my brows.
“I’m sure we can work around that.”
“Hmmm…” is all I say. The mental image of Tate naked in that lake is too much. Thank goodness for the humidity. I don’t have to explain why my cheeks are suddenly flushed. Tate walks up the steps to the door and enters a code, telling me to sit tight as he inspects the place. When he returns, I’m already running toward the dock.
“Mindy?” I hear him call my name as I lift my top over my head and hop out of my yoga pants. Seconds later, I catch air as I run off the dock and cannonball into the lake. Air bubbles erupt around me as I resurface and laugh. Tate stands at the edge of the dock, his arms crossed over his delicious chest.
“I told you to stay put.”
“Since when do I listen to what you say? You gonna get in?”
“Wasn’t planning on it. You’re getting your stitches wet.”
“Thanks, Doc.” The sun casts a shadow against his face, making him look more handsome. “You look hot. Maybe you should get in and cool off.” He stares down at me for a beat, then lifts his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, teasing me. “No pants allowed. Read the sign,” I say, pointing to a sign that doesn’t exist. He doesn’t bother looking, knowing I’m full of shit, but he amuses me anyway. His hands find his zipper, and I lick my bottom lip as he discards his jeans and boxer briefs. My nipples perk at the sight of him, and I thank god my nipples are hidden under the water—not that I can hide the water vibrating around me as my body shivers in anticipation.
He dives in, and I tread water, waiting for him to pop back up. Seconds pass, and he still hasn’t surfaced. Okay, maybe encouraging him to jump in was a bad idea. “Tate?” I swim in circles, looking for him. “Tate? Tate—!” Two hands wrap around my waist, and a scream erupts from my throat.
