Page 62 of Living with Fire
“The redwood trees,” I supply as we turn into the park. “I figured since you haven’t been anywhere except the beach, you might like the change.”
“I’ve wanted to do this since I moved here,” she tells me, and now that she knows where we’re going, she’s completely captivated by the sights outside. “But I—”
She cuts herself off as I pull into the parking lot. The sudden silence has me glancing her way to find her staring at the trees towering in front of us, her lip caught in her mouth. Savanna looks a million miles away in that moment, but it’s unlike the haunted stare from last night. It’s soft. Tender.
Bringing her hand to my mouth, I press a kiss to it, and pull her attention back into the truck with me. It works, except her excitement is muted compared to where it was a few minutes ago.
She gives her head a little shake, as though shaking off the remnants of a memory, and her full smile returns. “But I never made the time.”
That might be what she’s telling me, and herself, but not finding the time didn’t stop her. I’ve heard numerous tales of her adventures at the beach—or rather, the adventures she witnessed others take—but it wasn’t time that stopped her from coming to these woods. For now, however, I let it go, allowing her the space to tell me when she’s ready.
“Well, I’m glad you haven’t,” I say, pulling into a spot. The parking lot isn’t overly busy today despite it being a weekend, but the tourist season is also over which makes a difference. “Now you get to enjoy it for the first time with me.”
Savanna turns to me, her eyes wide with wonder and excitement. “Nate, it’s perfect. I love it.”
With the truck in park and her seatbelt off, she leans all the way across the console and plants a kiss on my lips. She lingers for a moment, but not long enough to suggest anything.
I wish my cock would get that message.
When she sits back, I gesture behind me. “I’ve got a pack full of snacks and water, but I’m not sure what you’re up for. We can go for a walk, or we can hike.”
“That’s right, you hike,” she says, a little twinkle coming into her eye. It’s the same twinkle I saw when I first shared that I used to hike, and it was one sign that this might be something she liked.
“When I find the time. Grew up hiking all over these woods with my parents and Jordan,” I tell her, looking out the windshield at the sprawling trees. “But don’t feel obligated to go on a hike if that’s not something you like. I just thought the forest and the mountain air might be enjoyable. There’s a waterfall not far. Maybe an hour round trip, and it’s pretty flat the whole way.”
“I love hiking,” she says with a laugh, but I detect an undertone of whatever it was that softened her smile earlier. She pushes her door open. “An hour is nothing, so if there’s more, I want you to show me.”
It’s like this woman was made specifically for me. I told her last night she keeps getting better and better, and this is just one more thing to prove it. I would have been okay with a simple walk to the falls and back, but I’ll admit I’m thrilled she likes hiking and not just being out in nature for a bit of a stroll. If hiking is something she likes, I’ve got plenty of trails, near and far, I can show her.
“Oh my god!” she exclaims, coming around to my side of the truck while I get my pack from the backseat. “This explains the pants!”
I look down at my pants and frown. I’m wearing a pair of gray quick-dry cargo pants. “What’s wrong with my pants?”
“Nothing. Trust me. You look great in them,” she says, leaning so she can blatantly check out my ass.
“Are you objectifying me again?”
It’s nothing new, but she’s always been more subtle about it. I kind of like this new, open way she has about her. I’m guessing it has everything to do with last night and cracking the lid on everything she’s kept locked up so tight.
“Yes.” When she straightens, she grins at me. “I’ve just never seen you in anything besides jeans and pajama pants. Well, and the fireman outfit, but that doesn’t count. These seemed peculiar.”
I laugh, conceding her point, even though these are usually a staple in my wardrobe. At least they used to be, before the bar when I had a lot more time for things like hiking and camping. Laying under the stars, listening to the wilderness roam for an entire night. I suppose it has been a while since I put them on, and probably longer since I was out hiking for a day.
Not that we have a whole day after staying in bed so late, but we’ve got a few hours, and if it goes well, maybe we’ll come back out next weekend for a day hike.
With the pack on, we start down the trailhead. The trail is wide, large enough to fit my truck down and then some, and mostly bare of any tree roots or large stones. It twists and turns, snaking through the large trees that loom overhead, watching people and critters on the forest floor. A lot of feet trudge through these trees throughout the year, the park being an attraction for tourists and locals alike.
I’m more interested in watching her than looking at the scenery around us. She’s filled with wonder at the massive redwoods that tower overhead and give us shelter from the warm sun. It’s like watching a little kid experience something for the first time. Savanna marvels at everything, her eyes darting everywhere all at once like she can’t take it in fast enough. As though it might disappear if she blinks too long. I might love this more than I love the way she looks when she smiles.
“Nate, this is incredible,” she says after we’ve been walking for a few minutes. “These trees are beautiful. They’re so big.”
“And old,” I add, then nod behind us. “We’ll check out the visitor center when we get back. They’ve got some cool info on the trees and how old they are. I think it’s something like twenty-five hundred years old.”
“No way!” she exclaims, incredulous, her head whipping in my direction, eyes wider than before. “Wow.”
Sliding her hand around my arm, she curls in close to me for a moment, pressing her cheek against my bicep. “Thank you for this. I haven’t been hiking in ages, and I’ve only ever hiked in Colorado. This is so different, but it reminds me of home.”
Glancing down at her, my arm slips from hers to wrap it around her shoulders and pull her tight to my side, getting the sense that she needs the closeness as nostalgia grips her. It slows us down, but we’re in no rush.