Billy's Baby - Annie J. Rose Page 0,16
route that’s mostly undisturbed.”
“What about the fauna? And by fauna I mean bugs. Enormous stinging ones that are so crazy looking they make entire nature specials about them. I’m not a scaredy-cat by any means, but I have a healthy fear of scorpions, for example,” she said.
“Good thing they’re native to deserts then,” I quipped.
“Nothing equally terrifying to be found in the rain forest?”
“Sure, if you look in the right place or set out to provoke something. I’ve never had any issues with bugs on this trail. Or wildlife of any kind. It’s a beautiful hike and there’s a great deal to be said for the stillness of it. You can hear the birds, the rustle of leaves, it’s humbling,” I said.
“It sounds perfect,” she said, her sunny smile returned. “I definitely want to see some out of the way places.”
My mind flashed on the fantasy I’d had about the two of us, the sexy, up against the tree scenario I’d imagined. I cleared my throat and tried to focus on the topic; our upcoming hike on the back trails.
“Do you like birds?” I asked, wincing inwardly at what a stupid thing that was to ask anyone if they were over five years old.
“Yeah, I have the bird preserve on my to-do list. Is it worth the visit?”
“Definitely. And don’t miss the butterfly house. It’s a small conservatory on the property behind the visitors center.”
“It wasn’t listed on the website,” she said, looking pleased.
“They don’t advertise it. It’s a local haunt though. Bit spooky when it’s open on Halloween week till midnights.”
“That could be creepy,” she admitted.
“I survived it,” I shrugged, “can’t be too deadly.”
“But you went on, like, dangerous military missions. So a few bugs in your face wouldn’t bother you.”
“Would it bother you?”
“Not really, but I doubt that I’d hang around the place if the bugs kept flying at me.”
“The butterflies are very docile. They’re used to people visiting, so they land on your arms and your head, sometimes your nose.”
“That’s a bit of a close encounter with insects. It would be fun. For like a minute,” she said.
“If you like, we can go there after our hike. I’ll give you the tour. Take in the bird preserve, botanical gardens, and butterfly house.”
“Is that a service you offer all your hikers?”
“No. It’s not. I’m just offering to show you around.”
“To be a nice guy?” she teased.
“Obviously. And you’re writing an article for a high profile travel magazine that could be worth a lot of publicity for our businesses—or it could paint me as the asshole brother that sent you to a bug bin to be attacked by marauding butterflies.”
“Beautiful, but deadly?” she joked.
“Yeah, call me that,” I joked in return.
“Was it your nickname in the Navy?”
“No.”
“Did you have a nickname?”
“If I did, that would be classified information.”
“I thought you were no longer on active duty,” she challenged.
“True, but if I tell you my nickname, I would have to change all my computer passwords to something else,” I teased.
“Really, I figured your password would be Hot Hiker. Something like that.”
“Nah, it would be lazy to use my Twitter handle for a password.”
“Oh my god, is it really your handle?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
“No. I’m not on Twitter. I only use Facebook and Instagram to promote the business, so I post vistas and weather reports and things like that under @OSheaHikeStMartin.”
“I may have to follow you on Insta. So I can check the forecast for rain or something,” she said. “Have you considered getting your brothers together for a photoshoot? Sort of an Outdoorsmen of the Caribbean theme—out in the jungle and down on the beach, in whatever the caves were you talked about.”
“What kind of photos are we talking about?” I asked archly.
“Mostly shirtless. Maybe some tasteful nudes,” she said with a laugh.
“Us frolicking in the water and splashing? Having a pillow fight?”
“Yes. Just sophisticated art like that. Maybe a few moody black and white shots of you bending over.”
I laughed, “How did you manage to say that straight-faced?” I asked.
“You bending over in front of the camera is no laughing matter to me, I’ll have you know. You could make a calendar to raise money for a charity and bring attention to your corporation as well,” she said.
“So, you’ve given this considerable thought,” I teased. “The serious business of me showing my naked ass to the paying audience to get some PR and a few bucks for a charity.”
“More than a few bucks, I’d bet,”