“We’ll have to come back in early summer. It’s so green and dense, it seems like you’re in your own world.”
She turned toward him, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed. “It’s a date.”
He could tell Kate had said the words as a joke, but both of them stared at each other for a long second before Trent hurried to shift the conversation. “So, um, as we climb, you’ll be able to see Mt. St. Helens and other mountains. This first part is a bit steep, but worth it. We’ll get to the East Fork Bridge, and from there you’ll be able to see the entire gorge.”
“Okay.” There was a determined set to her features as they walked off the footbridge and started up the incline. “If it’s as beautiful as this section, I can’t wait to get there.”
“Whoa, cowboy.” He tapped her shoulder to slow her pace. “We have a few miles to go. Let’s take some time to enjoy the scenery.”
That was twice now that he’d found an excuse to touch her, and still the urge to hold her hand, kiss her, help her over a rocky path, beat a steady drum in his head. Only a few people were on the trail, some with hiking poles, others taking a slow stroll through the woods. A couple with a Golden retriever passed them, chatting about the weather as they went. Kate and Trent settled into an easy pace, winding their way through the woods and up to the East Fork Bridge.
“So,” she began as she pulled a small notebook and pen out of her backpack, “tell me about where you grew up. I only met your parents once, but need to know more than that for the book.”
Oh, yeah. The book. Another reminder this wasn’t a date and they weren’t a couple. “Small town. Two parents. Two kids. End of story.”
She rolled her eyes. “I need more than that, Trent. I have a whole book to fill and—”
Trent stopped walking. He pulled out his camera and pivoted to snap a pic. Then another. A third. “Hold on, let me get this shot.”
She poked her head in front of him. “Are you seriously taking pictures while I’m interviewing you? Isn’t the book more important?”
He turned and took another photo. “The photos are business too. Just because it’s social media doesn’t mean it’s fluff.”
They started climbing again, wending their way through the woods and up a little path that deviated from the main road. As they climbed, she reached for branches and stones to help herself over the climbs. She was quiet, huffing a little with the effort. Trent thought about filling the silence between them, but that would mean answering her questions about the complicated relationship with his family.
At a steep juncture, Trent turned on the slippery dirt path and put out a hand to help her navigate the loose rock and muddy embankment. “Here. Take my hand.”
“This is your chance to drop me.” She grinned and put her hand in his. “You know, lose the dead weight in the middle of the woods.”
“I leave no writer behind.” He hauled her up, and she stumbled into his chest, warm and soft and so…there. “You okay?”
Kate drew in a sharp breath and took a quick step to the side. She pretended to brush some leaves off her pants. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”
About as okay as he was. Had she affected him this much when they’d dated before? “Let’s…let’s keep going.”
“Sounds good.” They started across the ridge, skirting fallen logs and jutting rock piles that cluttered the manmade trail. For a while, they hiked in silence, busy navigating until the detour took them back to the paved trail. “Did you always want to be an outdoors person, like, when you were a kid?”
“All kids like being outside, don’t they?” They had covered a nice amount of ground already, and the East Fork Bridge rose ahead of them as they hiked around a bend. About time. Trent needed something to distract Kate from her dogged pursuit of his childhood memories. “Oh, look, it’s the bridge.”
“And the engagement photos.” Kate stopped walking and watched the couple he’d seen earlier in the parking lot. Carissa stood on one end of the bridge while the man and woman kissed and laughed and posed in the center, with the vibrant, deep colors of the forest behind them and the river rushing below. The woman, a thin, tall blonde, was wearing a long white dress that caught in the breeze, swinging around her legs. Her fiancé had on a blue button-down shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. “That is so romantic.”
“It’s a photo.” Trent grunted. Yes, the couple was laughing and touching, but that didn’t mean anything about their future or the reality of their relationship. “A moment in time.”
Kate shot him a sharp look. “Since when are you such a grump about love?”
Sarah had called him a grump yesterday, and now Kate. Trent thought of himself as a relatively happy person…yet, when was the last time he had been truly happy? Nothing worrying him, no stress?
The answer came to him in a flash. The night at the bowling alley.
Like the images before them, that night had been a blip of time, not any kind of indicator of where he should be or who he should be with. Besides, as much as Kate intrigued him and tempted him now, they had a business relationship. Tangling that with anything else was a surefire path to disaster.
There was also the little factor of him breaking her heart all those years ago. The comment about the promise he’d broken told Trent their past history still stung. A smart man would steer clear of mixing business with a messy past.
Kate stood on the bridge and turned to face him, her eyes wide with wonder and a bright, giddy smile on her face. “It’s sooo beautiful here. It’s almost magical.”
And when his heart did a little flip at the unadulterated joy in her beautiful, familiar, sweet face, Trent had to wonder just how smart he really was—or even wanted to be.
As she climbed all over Bells Mountain, with the picturesque Washington State landscape in the background, Kate’s moods rushed by as fast as the East River—frustration, happiness, regret—with every minute that passed with Trent. She asked him about his childhood, starting with simple questions. “What was your favorite memory from childhood?”
“I dunno. Christmas.”
“Which one? Was there a special year or memory?”
Trent shrugged. “It’s Christmas. It’s always good. Here, let’s take this turn.” And so it went, with everything from his first day in kindergarten to his relationship with his parents. A non-answer or a changed subject.
He refused to open up about his parents or his childhood, which meant she was going to have trouble finishing the book. At the same time, he found little excuses to touch her. A hand as she descended a dirt road. A touch on her back when she climbed. A quick brush when a bug landed on her sleeve. None of the touches necessary, but every single one making her heart trip.