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“Here we are; number twelve,” Gavin says and points as he pulls the Tahoe onto the small parking slab.
Yurts are a big thing in the Pacific Northwest. Although our winters are fairly mild temperature-wise, the
winds can be pretty fierce, especially this close to the coast. Yurts allow for year-round camping while being protected from the elements. You still get to experience the great outdoors with hiking and campfire cookouts but when it’s time to go to sleep or if the weather gets really nasty, you have a roof over your head that won’t get pounded by the storm. The canvas shell is secured around a wooden frame with wooden floors. I’ve only stayed in one once but it was certainly the most comfortable camping trip I’ve ever had.
Gavin places the key in my hand. “Why don’t you check out the inside while I grab our stuff?”
“I’ll help you.”
He hops out of the car. “Okay, Stubborn One. You can put the bedding on while I get a fire started.”
I join him at the back of the car and start grabbing bags. “What if I want to get the fire started?”
“Do you?”
I smirk. “No. I said what if.”
Gavin swats me on the ass. “Go put the sheets on, woman, so we have a spot to have all the sex.”
I laugh. “Awfully confident that you’ll get lucky, aren’t you?”
“Nah, just hopeful.”
“Well, keep being cute like this and I’d say your odds are pretty good.”
He smiles. “Good to know.”
Gavin really has thought of everything. We’re roasting marshmallows over the campfire to make S’mores. Well, I should say Gavin is roasting the marshmallows since I can’t seem to keep mine on the stick. After the fifth one fell, he decided to take over. You’d think I would’ve learned considering there are three charred hotdogs sitting at the bottom of the fire pit. That’s what I get for being so determined to prove my wilderness expertise, I suppose. Or pretend I have any expertise, rather.
“Coming in hot,” Gavin warns as he pulls the marshmallow out of the fire.
I hold out my cracker and allow him to set it down before I mush the two parts together. Chocolatey marshmallow graham cracker goodness explodes in my mouth as I take the first bite.
“Mmm, soooo good.”
Gavin swoops in for a quick kiss. “Mmm, I agree.”
“It’s even better when it hasn’t been bathed in my saliva.”
He smirks. “I happen to like your saliva.”
I roll my eyes but inwardly smile at his sweet, yet somewhat pervy comment. We sit by the fire eating an obscene amount of S’mores. Every once in a while a strong gust of wind blows but the flames are keeping us warm for the most part. After the last S’more has been demolished, Gavin stands up and reaches out his hand.
“Dance with me.”
I laugh. “There’s no music.”
“Does it matter?” He raises his eyebrows.
I take his hand and raise up. “I guess not.”
He pulls me into him and cradles my head to his chest as we lightly sway to the rhythm of our heartbeats. The breeze is picking up but I’m barely affected being in his arms, soaking in his warmth.
Gavin stops moving and lifts my chin so we’re face to face. “Kat, I need to say something. And I want to preface it by saying that I don’t expect you to respond. In fact, I’d probably prefer that you don’t. It’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now but I don’t want to scare you. So promise me you won’t be scared. Okay?”
What on earth is he talking about? “What”
He presses his index finger to my lips. “Kat, please don’t overthink it. Just promise me you won’t freak out.”
