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“Wait, you don’t have a job yet?”
“No, I am hoping Meriden Elementary will hire me, but if not, there’s a possibility of a building substitute position. Fingers crossed, because I have massive bills to pay.”
“What school?”
“You are quick with the questions.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s just, my sister teaches second grade at Meriden Elementary. I thought you meant the school in our town because what are the chances of that happening?”
“I’d say pretty damn good because that is exactly the school I’m hoping for. Your sister, Shannon, the one I met the other day?”
“The one and only. This is crazy. Well, I guess you can at least say you’ve met a potential coworker. Seriously, she’s great. She’ll help you with anything you need. She’ll be shocked to find this out. What a coincidence.”
This is fantastic because Shannon and I hit it off. Hopefully, it won’t complicate things, since I’m on a date with her brother, but I’ll press the brakes on those thoughts and not worry about things that haven’t happened.
Jackson parks in the dirt lot on the left side of the road. The lot isn’t much of a lot—small patch of dirt would be more accurate. Five cars can squeeze in at most. Jackson comes around to my side and helps me off the running boards. Points for being a gentleman!
“Let me get the cooler and bag I packed from the truck bed. I don’t think you’ll need anything, but you should change into sneakers. The rocks can be slippery, depending on how many people have been here today.”
I walk to the back of the truck, and Jackson unlatches the tailgate to get into the bed. “Come here. I’ll lift you onto the gate.”
“Sure.”
I almost melt when I turn to face Jackson. He smells of pine, and his pure muscle excites me. He places his hands on my waist and lifts me in one swoop onto the tailgate. My flip-flops fall to the ground, and he removes his hands from my body. I desperately want them to stay right where they were. He motions toward my bag, and I pull out my sneakers. He takes them, slides them onto my feet, and ties them. Such a simple thing. I’m not sure how Jackson makes putting on sneakers passionate, but he does. His hands return to my waist, and he places me back on my feet.
We walk across the street and spot the trail to Sculptured Falls. I hear the falls before I see them. In the still of nature, I hear the pitter-patter of little critters, the calling of summer birds, the crashing of the waterfall, and the ripple of the water as it travels through the canyon. As we approach the wood line, Jackson puts the other strap of his backpack on his right shoulder, switches the cooler to his left, and gently reaches for my left hand.
“It can be slippery, so watch your step.”
My pulse increases as our fingers intertwine. This guy may be too good to be true. We cross the wood line, come to the beginning of the trail, and spot a wooden suspension bridge ahead. The distance between us and the bridge shortens and we have an up-close view of the falls. The cascading water, the sun shining through the tree canopy, and this beautiful man by my side are more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, a scene out of a movie.
Jackson stops on the bridge. “Come on, you are safe.”
I peek over the rail. “Wow, we are so high. This is even more breathtaking than I remember.” Giant pine trees edge the entire length of the chasm, each leaning toward the water in synchronicity, as if they are protecting a secret. Enormous rocks jut out from the channel, carved in the most exquisite and intricate patterns. The water flows from under the bridge, diverts away from us, and funnels into a shallow area pebbled with stones that resemble jewels newly tumbled from a treasure chest. The sun glistening through the trees makes each stone shine and glimmer. The water bubbles and gurgles through the stones, streams around the corner to the left, and disappears into the depths of the woods. We take in the view and the surrounding stillness.
Mixed in with the delicate forest sounds, quiet voices murmur from below toward the other side of the bridge.
“Did you hear that?”
We look left and walk to the other side. I spot another couple hiking through the woods. They glance toward us and offer a friendly wave. As I wave back, I take in this equally beautiful side of the chasm. Fast-moving water gushes over the edge of a picturesque waterfall and then continues under the bridge below us.
Jackson steps closer behind me, and heat rushes through my body when his hand touches mine. “Nice, huh?”
“Nice doesn’t do it justice. It’s better than any memory I have. Thank you for bringing me here. This place is exactly why I love this area. It’s unassumingly beautiful. Simple, yet so complex, beyond what man could ever recreate.” I release his firm hand and turn to face him.
His expression is hard to describe—he looks as though he is contemplating or reliving a memory. He’s frozen for a second and then opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, it is. Let’s go and get a better view. I figure we can explore and go swimming.”
I’ve been so distracted by Jackson’s presence and the natural beauty around me, I didn’t notice how hot I am. “That sounds amazing.”
I follow him off the bridge and walk a narrow path to the right. There is no marking for the trail, but travelers have worn it so thin, it’s easy to spot. I stay close to Jackson because the path is tricky in spots due to tree roots and small rocks. At the end of the path, a huge, flat stone slab appears before us. Jackson grabs hold of my hand, allowing me to step safely onto the rock. “Careful. Walk sideways.”
We shimmy onto the platform, which has to be thirty feet wide and twenty feet long. I look left and right; we are standing almost directly under the bridge. Jackson places the cooler and his bag toward the back of the rock, near the tree line. I’m not sure what he has in mind, so I follow him.
“I’m going to grab the towels in case we’re brave enough to get in,” Jackson says with a mischievous grin as he spreads the towels and sits. He pats the one adjacent and I join him. I unlace my sneakers and pull my cover-up over my head. It’s too hot to keep any extra clothing on. Jackson takes my lead this time and pulls off his T-shirt to reveal a muscle playground I’m dying to explore. I think back to him stacking wood at the cabin, sweat glistening between his abs and forming a trail to his waistline. He is too hot to resist.
He reclines on his towel, looking at me as the sun highlights the stubble that thinly covers his cheeks and jawline. “So, tell me everything. Ready, set, go!” He laughs and seems quite captivated by his own humor. Pushing away images of his rough stubble brushing against my more sensitive spots, I laugh at the ridiculousness of my intrusive thoughts.
“Well, if I had to write a bio for a dating app, I guess I’d say: Libra, small-town girl, loves the outdoors, sports fanatic, excited to learn new things, watches trashy reality dating shows, believes in true love but is ultimately tired of being burned. So, would you swipe right?”
