If only he’d been as accommodating when she’d asked about where they were going hiking today. But he couldn’t have been more secretive. This morning when she’d packed a backpack for the outing, he’d said, Bring extra clothes. The girls are going to get dirty. He’d looked at her lasciviously and added, So are we. That look had led her to believe there was no way he’d meant with real dirt. But when she’d come out of the bedroom wearing one of her nicer pairs of jeans and a peach sweater, he’d sent her back to change into something that could literally get dirty. Then he’d followed her into the bedroom, hauled her into his arms, and kissed her senseless. After which, he’d said, You won’t be wearing clothes when we get dirty, and smacked her ass on the way back out to the living room, leaving her stunned and reeling for more.
On the way to meet Zeke, the girls chattered endlessly about their upcoming hike. They were adorable in their leggings and animal-eared hoodies. Leah had pinned the girls’ hair up in pigtails, and French braided the two sides of her own and braided them into one thick plait in the back. She loved their affinity for nature, and she knew they’d gotten it from River. She wanted to do everything she could to keep that love alive and was glad that when Tank had schooled Leah and the girls about deer ticks, snakes, and poison ivy, the girls hadn’t batted an eye. Rosie had said, You ’tect us, which had earned a hearty Damn right.
They parked at the end of a gravel road surrounded by sparse woods, and as they helped the girls out of the truck, Leah looked for a trailhead. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
Tank shouldered the backpack, closing the distance between them like a hungry panther on the prowl. He looked like that more often than not these days. Her stomach flip-flopped as he dipped his head to kiss her neck, his beard tickling her skin.
“Yes, and I dig your hair up like that. How am I supposed to think about hiking when all I want to do is kiss your neck?”
“Papa Tank!” Rosie tugged on his jeans. The nickname had stuck, and Tank ate it up.
Leah laughed. “I think you’ll have enough distractions.”
He looked down at Rosie. “What’s up, Cheeky?”
She held up a tiny pinecone.
“That one’s just your size.”
“Pocket?” Rosie reached for his pocket.
“I got it.” He pocketed the pinecone. “Just don’t bring me a snake.”
“Zeke!” Junie pointed to Zeke, walking down the gravel road toward them in cargo shorts, hiking boots, and an open navy zip-up sweatshirt over a gray shirt. He carried a backpack over his shoulder, and his dark hair poked out from beneath a black knit hat.
The girls ran after him with Tank on their heels. Their great ’tector.
Zeke had always been kind to Leah at the Salty Hog, and women flocked to him, like they did with all the Wickeds. But she’d noticed that he wasn’t overly flirtatious, like Zander and Gunner. He was smoother, charming, sort of like Blaine. The Girl Squad had pegged them as gentlemen, and Leah had to agree. Although most of the time she got the feeling Zeke had someplace better to be than the Salty Hog, unless it was one of the rare occasions when Aria was with them. When she was there, he was as protective of her as Tank was of Leah.
“Mornin’,” Zeke called out as he knelt to catch Junie and Rosie in a hug.
“Morning,” Leah said, and Tank gave his usual chin-lift greeting.
Rosie told Zeke about her pinecone, and Junie said, “Papa Tank told us about poison ivy and snakes and ticks. Leaves of thwee, let them be!”
“Let be!” Rosie exclaimed.
“Sounds to me like Papa Tank did a good job of preparing you for our hike.” He shrugged off his backpack and unzipped it. “All good explorers need tools of the trade.” He pulled out two lightweight children’s backpacks, one purple and one pink.
The girls gasped, and Rosie cheered, “Pwesents!”
“I love purple!” Junie exclaimed.
“Then purple you shall have.” Zeke handed her the purple backpack and gave Rosie the pink one. “Let’s see what’s inside them.”
Leah’s heart melted. “What do you say to Zeke?”
“Thank you!” they said in unison.
As Zeke showed them how to use their binoculars, flashlights, compasses, magnifying glasses, and other toys, Leah leaned against Tank’s side and said, “He’s great with them.”
“He was a special ed teacher before he started working with Preacher and Zan.”
“Why did he stop teaching?”
“He was fired because some prick made demeaning comments about the kids in the program at an event, and Zeke went after him.”
She looked at Zeke, putting the girls’ whistles around their necks, explaining that if they get lost, they should blow them, and reassuring the girls that they shouldn’t worry, because he wouldn’t let them out of his sight, but that it was good to be prepared. “It’s a shame that he can no longer teach.”
“Yeah, but he did the right thing. You can’t let bullies get away with that shit, and Zeke still works with kids. He tutors and volunteers at the community center.”
She was glad to hear that.
The girls ran over to show them their new goodies, and Leah hugged Zeke. “You can’t imagine how much this means to me.”
“Probably about as much as it means for me to see my broody cousin living life again.” Zeke motioned in Tank’s direction. He was helping the girls put on their backpacks. “Thank you for that.”
She carried that compliment with her as they headed into the woods.
The guys kept eagle eyes on all three of them. The girls stopped every few seconds to check out leaves or bugs or point to birds flying overhead. It was fascinating to watch Zeke and Tank with them. Zeke was a born teacher and a serious nature lover, relaying fun facts about everything from trees and animals to the history of the area. Tank was their preemptive protector, scooping Rosie into the air before she tripped over a log and crouching behind Junie with one thick arm around her middle, pointing out a fox den and explaining why she should give it a wide berth. Leah swore Tank checked in with her as often as he did the girls.
River would have loved seeing the girls with them. She felt him around them in a way she hadn’t the first few weeks after the accident. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn’t dreamed about losing him before it had happened, but she was glad she hadn’t. That would have been too much for her to handle.
She pushed those thoughts away and focused on the here and now. Junie’s tiny hand was wrapped around Tank’s index finger. She was smiling up at him, red ringlets hanging just above her eyes as she stopped to pick a flower and gave it to him.
“Thanks, Twitch.” He reached over and tucked the flower behind Leah’s ear.
“Pwetty.” Junie plucked another flower and tried to put it behind her ear.
“I’ve got you, baby girl.” Tank did it for her.
“Me!” Rosie shouted.
Junie plucked another flower, and Tank put it behind Rosie’s ear. Leah went behind him, pushing the stems into their braids so they’d stay in place.
“When you’re older, I’ll take you girls camping,” Zeke suggested. “We’ll set up a tent and have a campfire.”