Corsica swatted my hand away. "Why? You can't think of anything better to say?"
I shoved her along the trail and was glad when she turned back around. It was annoying how quickly she saw through me. What was I supposed to talk about? How beautiful the day was or how the sound of the stream far below us was slowly lulling me into a happy stupor?
I could have told her how happy I was to be out with her and how my heart tripped every time I thought about having her all to myself for days.
"Just so you know," I said, "I'm not going to dress for dinner. I left my suit and tie at home."
Corsica snorted. "That's your loss. Don't you know how great it feels to dress for dinner?"
I caught her hand and pointed across the stream. "There's a good spot to camp. How about I set us up and then you can explain how a stuffy, snobby ritual can feel good."
By the time I was done with the tent, Corsica had the fire pit dug and ringed with large rocks. She'd even gathered a few nice logs and a decent pile of kindling. She was laying out the cooking stuff when I finished securing the rain flap.
"See? What's the point of dressing for dinner when there's only going to be one course. I hope you like roasted veggies and hot dogs," I said.
"And pasta," Corsica said. She unearthed a cooking pot and box of macaroni from her pack. "And wine. Your father snuck it in before we left."
I pulled over a log and sat down. "So you're really going to make me dress for dinner?"
Corsica brushed back her hair and put her hands on her hips. "What's so bad about it? Everyone takes a few minutes to relax, get cleaned up. I think changing clothes and freshening up sets the whole tone for the evening."
She held out the cooking pot. "I'll start the fire while you filter some stream water. Once the pot's set to boil, we'll retire to our separate quarters and dress for dinner."
I took the pot. "Separate quarters?"
"The stream side of the tent is yours and the hill side is mine. No talking, no teasing. I'll see you in ten minutes or so." After lighting the fire, Corsica rummaged through her pack, pulled out a black, cotton dress and her brush, then disappeared behind her side of the tent.
I filled up the water filter and splashed cold water on my face. After scrubbing off the sweat and putting on a clean shirt, I almost had to admit she was on to something. Then I saw her and knew I had to admit she was right.
Corsica's hair was loose and soft, brushed to a glossy shine. She'd worn it in a braid all day but now let it spill over her shoulders. The black dress was soft, billowing and clinging to her tight form in turns.
I stood up and offered her my log. "My lady," I bowed.
Her lips quirked up. "Thank you, kind sir. So, don't you feel better?"
The peace of the burbling stream and the idle call of the songbirds had lulled me into contentment. My body was tired from the long hike, but in a loose and relaxed way. I felt calm and happy, but I couldn't admit all of that to her. "I always feel better when I'm out camping. That's why I started the business I did."
Corsica chopped up the vegetables while I uncorked the wine. "So you're an entrepreneur," she said.
I didn't like the way she said the word, like I was just some rich boy playing at a job. "I prefer innovator. I spend most of my time on camping trips like this so I have firsthand knowledge of how my equipment works and what improvements can be made."
She tossed the vegetables in the frying pan with a slosh of olive oil. "Are you one of those people who doesn't think inspiration can strike in the office?"
I laughed and dropped down to sit beside her. "God, how do you always call me on everything? So I've built up the perfect excuse to stay out of the office. I've found a job I love."
Corsica nudged me in the shoulder. "I like seeing you at work, out here. Makes me feel like I'm actually starting to get to know you."
"We might not know each other yet, but we know this." I caught her smile in a kiss.
There was a hunger between us that was far more important than dinner. Our passion ignited faster than the campfire.
While the water heated and the vegetables began to sizzle, I laid Corsica down on the soft moss. She skimmed her hands up to my shoulders and drew me down. Our mouths tasted, then devoured, our bodies consuming each other.
The rest of the night was a velvet blur of happiness. The food tasted all the better for us working up an appetite and we were both so thirsty, the wine went down too easily. We laughed and lounged around the fire until late in the night, then tangled up together in the tent.
It was hard to unwind myself from Corsica in the morning. My mind kept diving back into dreams and fantasies of future camping trips. Corsica and I would explore all of Pinnacles, then adventure through Joshua Tree. We'd bring our children out before they could walk and sleep all snuggled together.
I slipped out of the tent, started the fire for coffee, and then got ready. I left Corsica a note telling her I was just over the crest. There was a rock face there where I needed to test out some new rock-climbing shoes.
Work was a good reality check, I told myself as I started up the sheer rock wall. It wasn't very high, but it jutted out and I needed to concentrate to keep my footing as I clung to it and inched higher. The trial run of the shoes and the exercise was supposed to knock Corsica out of my thoughts, but it only doubled the effect she was having on me.
I couldn't think about anything else, just her. Corsica flashed through my thoughts, a mix of passionate memories and moony daydreams. Since when did I waste time thinking about a happy relationship? And children? I must have gotten drunk off the wine. I shook my head and tried to keep concentrating.
It was just a passing phase. I had been so stressed at the thought of losing my mother that I had tried to find someone to take her place. It was all just a change of pace and soon my life would get back to normal. I scrambled to the top of the rock wall, snarling as I wished Corsica was there to see me.
I didn't want a wife or a family. I didn't even want a serious relationship. On the crest, I turned to the breeze and took a deep breath.
All I had ever wanted was freedom. First, it was to get away from my father and his volatile moods. Then, it was to crawl out from under my father's shadow and the oppression expectations of my inheritance. After that, I wanted to be my own man and not let anyone try to press me into the mold they thought I should fit.
If it was up to Corsica, I'd be dressed in linen sports coats and having brunch at a country club.
That thought fortified me, but it was lost when I got back to camp. Corsica had the fire stoked, the coffee made, and she was rolling up the tent.
"There you are," she smiled. "I'll make us some scrambled eggs."
The only response I had prepared was a ranting defense of where I had been and why I had left her alone. So, I grunted and nodded towards the stream. I sluiced off the sweat from my climb and came back to the campfire bare-chested just to annoy her. Corsica only licked her lips and smiled at me again.
My body erased all thoughts of freedom as all I could think about was getting closer to her.
"We should get going. I have to get back to my mother's encampment," I said.
Corsica took the eggs off the fire and looked up at me with a frown. "Why? Is everything all right?"