Page 16 of Hogging the Hunk
“Dad! Ugh!”
Her sass couldn’t completely eclipse her amusement at my joke, and it relaxed some of the tension that had curled into knots under the straps of my backpack. Inhaling the crisp air of the forest infused me with a sort of happiness I usually only found while solitary. The primal man within me demanded regular communes with nature. Not with the end goal of letting go and becoming feral. It was so I could recenter and leave behind the pretenses and expectations of a world built for extroverted people.
My daughter, so far, was the only person I wanted to share these experiences with. I hadn’t entirely convinced Ellie yet that hiking was worthy of her precious weekends. Her idea of a good time would be sleeping in or binging her favorite cooking shows. There were some small signs of progress, though. Grumbling while she tied her hiking boots about the pointlessness of walking when we had cars had simmered down to wordless scowls. I never forced, and she kept following me to the car. Soon, I hoped she’d understand why I needed this time of retreat and why I usually needed it to be in nature. Scratch that. I craved it. Maybe she’d see the benefit for herself, too.
“It’s good for everyone to have some quiet time once in a while,” I said.
Ellie looked like she’d sucked on a lemon. “I get that while I’m sleeping.”
We walked a few more paces before I asked, “Would you consider yourself more of an introvert or an extrovert?”
“Like, do I enjoy being around people or not?”
“Basically, yeah.”
She considered my query briefly. “Most of the time, I’m probably happiest around others.”
“Interesting.”
“Why? Don’t you?”
I shook my head, watching my feet on a rocky patch of trail. “If I wasn’t a veterinarian, which inherently requires me to interact with the people who own the animals, I might have chosen a more lowkey profession.”
“As what? I have a hard time seeing you coming home without being splattered with manure.”
I considered Ellie’s theoretical question. “A mountain man with a beard down to my navel, living completely off the grid?”
Ellie giggled. “Nah. You couldn’t handle the snakes.”
“You’re probably right. My beard grows in bushy, though it never gets very long. Plus, there are a few conveniences I’d have a hard time giving up. Looking at you, air conditioning and hot water.”
“What about a forest ranger?”
“Probably should pass on that.”
“How come? You love coming out to the forest all the time.”
“Walking through it and taking care of it are two entirely different things. I’m lousy with anything that requires photosynthesis to survive, and I’d probably inadvertently do something dumb, like start a forest fire and burn the entire state down.”
Ellie was thoroughly invested in the game and she thought long and hard about another suggestion. Her face lit up when she did. “Maybe a rancher?
A jumble of memories flooded in without being bidden, all of them centered on Beckett. Her mussed, bedhead hair that she kept trying to untangle with her fingers. Her effervescent laugh that filled every crevice of the barn.
The cottony soft material of her pajamas that draped in all the right places, even under a heavy barn coat…
The nightgown Beckett had been wearing when she slammed into me was more appropriate than she realized. Also, an observation I would take to my grave. Woke Up Sexy Again? How many times had Greg been privy to her state as she rolled out of bed? I shook my head harder than a dog whipping its body after a flea bath, trying to dislodge the jealous thought.
“Did a bug fly in your ear?” Ellie made a face. “Gross. Another reason we should turn back.”
“Bugs aren’t so bad.” I purposefully kept my answer vague, steering far away from what was running rampant in my mind, no matter how hard I tried to dispel it.
Beckett, her legs, and what she looked like when she woke for the day were none of my concern. Ellie had not reneged on her demands that we remain a daddy-daughter team, going so far as to avoid watching any romantic movies, which she said was to keep me from getting any ideas. If only she knew the battle attraction could put a person through. I might as well have been trying not to get sucked into a black hole.
Ellie kicked a rock off the trail. Her moodiness had resurfaced, which was a fine distraction from thoughts about Beckett. “If we’re not going anywhere specific, why are we even bothering?”
“There’s no final destination with this hike. We get to go as far as we want, enjoying the views and some time away. Why? Your legs aren’t already getting tired, are they?”
Ellie threw her weight into me and laughed pitifully. “I have to take twice as many steps as you do, you know.”