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“Plundered? What am I, a pirate?”
His lips turn up in that crooked half-smile and I spin around on my heels, walking toward the register. I hand the check-out girl my basket and she weighs it before transferring it to a paper bag.
Wyatt pulls out his wallet and pays, handing my candy to me.
“How long is that gonna last you?” he asks when we walk outside.
I jiggle the bag and tap my chin, thinking. “Six . . . eight hours at least.”
He laughs and I grin.
“Come on, candy monster. There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
“Is it hiking time?” I ask, excitedly.
“It’s hiking time.”
I lean over and begin messing with the radio while he drives. We’re on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the views of the foggy mountains and red and orange color palette are breathtaking.
“Still haven’t found our song, huh?” Wyatt asks softly.
“Not yet, but I will.”
I roll my window down and stick my hand out, leaning my head back against the seat. Wyatt has the heat all the way up and his hand is resting gently on my thigh. It’s a perfect moment, and I take a mental snapshot, not wanting to forget it.
Wyatt parks at one of the overlooks and hops out of the truck. He grabs a bookbag I hadn’t noticed from the cab of his truck and then reaches a hand out to me.
“Coming?” he asks.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a trail right through here, it’s not long.”
We walk up through the woods, and he’s right. It’s not a long trail, and it’s an easy hike. After maybe ten minutes of hiking, the woods suddenly open up and we’re standing on a wooden outlook overlooking the mountains. There are rails up to keep children and anyone else from falling over the side. It gives you the perfect view of the mountains and the trees.
The sun is just beginning to set, painting the world with a red and gold haze. It takes my breath away.
I walk to the railing and look out, trying to take everything in. I pull out my phone and snap a quick picture, even though I know the lens won’t do the colors and the view justice. Wyatt comes up beside me, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“My mom used to bring me up here all the time. Willa’s afraid of heights, and my dad doesn’t love them either, so the two of them would usually wait at the overlook I parked at for me and Mom. This was our place.”
I look over at him and slide my arm through his, resting my head on his shoulder.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I say softly.
He kisses the top of my head and we stand in silence, taking in the beauty of the world around us.
After a few minutes, Wyatt turns around and walks to a blanket he’s laid out. He’s packed sandwiches and a bottle of sparkling apple cider he must’ve bought at the orchard earlier. I smile and shake my head at him, sitting down on the blanket.
“How’d you know I was hungry?” I ask.
He laughs. “Because you’re always hungry.”
I hit him on the shoulder playfully.
“When was the last time you were here?” I ask.
“About a month before Mom died. She wanted to see this view one last time. She was so weak, I had to practically carry her the last few minutes of the hike. But she was determined to see the sunset from here. And she was equally as determined to see it with me.”
