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Maybe that’s why I find myself packing this backpack with two of everything.
Water—check. Protein bars—check. Two sandwiches and a few small bags of chips—check. Jerky. An extra sweatshirt in case she gets cold.
What the hell am I doing?
I’ve stopped to wonder that at least a half-dozen times by now, but it still doesn’t deter me. I guess that’s why I find myself in my 4Runner a few minutes later, driving to her little cottage-style cabin across town. I don’t have her phone number, so I couldn’t call to warn her that I was coming. I likely wouldn’t have though even if I had it. And I wasn’t going to ask that bastard Wyatt for her digits. He probably would have shown up at her place before I could to cockblock me if he had known my plan.
There’s an SUV parked when I pull into Willow’s driveway, so I’m hoping that means she’s home. I knock on the door and wait after exiting the vehicle. It’s mid-morning now, so she should be awake. She’s standing on the threshold a few seconds later.
“Zane?”
I’ve surprised her. Her green eyes are wide when she sees me standing on her front porch.
“What are you doing here?”
“Are you busy?” I ask.
“No.” She steps aside and lets me walk inside.
The place is nice. Small. Quaint. But nice. I gaze out the front windows.
“Great view,” I say.
“It’s the best thing about this place,” she agrees.
I shift my attention back to her. She’s wearing sweats and a T-shirt. Her hair is wet and wavy, like she just finished a shower. She’s walking around on her bare feet. I can smell toasted bread in the air.
“I was just finishing breakfast,” she says, waving me into the kitchen. She sits on a stool at the granite island separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. There’s a plate in front of her with less than half of a bagel on it and a mug of coffee next to it. “Are you hungry?”
I shake my head, leaning against the counter across from her. “No, I already ate.”
“Coffee?” she asks.
“I’m good.”
She takes a bite of her bagel, licking the cream cheese from her lower lip. She shifts in her chair and pushes her hair behind her ear.
“Am I making you nervous?” I ask with a smirk as I watch her squirm.
“I’m just surprised to see you.”
She takes a sip of coffee before popping the last bite of bagel into her mouth. I stand quietly, content just to watch her as she eats.
Curiosity finally gets the best of her. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you have plans for the day?”
She nods toward a stack of books on a table. “I was going to read and relax. No real plans.”
“Do you have those hiking boots lying around? Interested in going on an adventure?”
“With you?” she asks, those emerald eyes widening again.
“Yep. Just me and you.” I pause for a beat, my eyes boring into hers. “And I promise to push you up against a structure before the day is over and kiss you again.”
Her cheeks flush at the reminder of our encounter last night, and I like the way this particular shade of pink looks on her face.
“Who said I’ll let you kiss me again?” she challenges. “Or that I even want you to?”
