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5
Naked in the Great Outdoors
“Walking’s easier than cleaning fish,”Ivan pointed out. “And Roman makes everyone who’s around share in the cleaning.”
I’d cleaned a few fish in my days at the restaurant. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but it hadn’t killed me, either.
“Shall we all go hiking?” I asked.
But Roman shook his head. “Can’t,” he said, tugging up the right leg of his jeans.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nerve damage,” he said. “I have to be super careful on uneven ground. You can’t see it, but inside my boot I’ve got an ankle brace that keeps my foot sort of locked in position so I can walk on normal ground.”
Never would have noticed it if he hadn’t brought it up.
“He might be a little slower than the rest of us, but he still can swim and row like a fucking demon,” Ivan said in grudging guy respect.
“So I’ll stay here and fish while you hike,” Roman replied.
“What do you say, Fiona?” Ivan asked.
Roman gave me an encouraging nod, and I thought about it. I could use a stretch of my legs. “Not too far?”
“Two, maybe three miles, tops,” Trent assured me. “We’ll take our time. It’s an easy trail.”
“Sure. Let’s do it,” I said, standing up and brushing off my butt.
We crossed under the highway and came up a very wooded hill. As we walked, I didn’t look at the birds or the trees as much as I watched Ivan and Trent up ahead of me. Their T-shirts quickly began to stick to their bodies, like my tank top probably was, and I got to see even more of how primally sexy they were. Two different types of ideal male, but trying to say which was better was like comparing Coke and Pepsi.
Personally, I was not a picky drinker.
“Roman doesn’t talk about it,” Ivan said as we crested the first hill and arrived at a flat area, “but he’s a hero.”
“A hero?” I asked, and the guys nodded.
“His family is pretty well off, so he spends his days volunteering. Works with kids and veterans mostly.”
“Wow,” I replied in admiration.
We started up another slight hill, and sweat flowed freely down my temples. I didn’t mind though, because the sight of Trent’s tight buns on the trail in front of me was motivation enough to keep me putting one foot in front of the other.
We were about halfway up when Trent stopped and pointed. “Look.”
I came up next to him, and I had to admit my breath was taken away. We were in a small clearing in the trees, high enough up that I could see most of Black Mountain Lake, and the surrounding hills and mountains. Above the lake, a large bird, maybe an eagle or a falcon, wheeled, looking for its prey.
It was breathtaking.
Shit. Was I becoming a nature girl?
“Not bad, is it?” he asked. “Even for someone who doesn’t do nature?”
“It’s incredible,” I admitted. “Then again, I didn’t really follow the two of you up here for the view of the lake.”
“Oh?” Trent asked, turning to face me. “Well, I invited you because I was sort of hoping to see some more of your tattoos.”
“They’re not all in publicly polite places,” I flirted back. “Some of them even my Mom hasn’t seen.”
