Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,59
your elders.” And damn straight, there’s a grumble to my tone.
“Okay, geezer. You’re not even thirty.”
I rub at the sore spot on my chest. “Wounds my pride all the same.”
She leans forward, puckering her lips. “Want me to kiss you all better?”
“Can you do that without tipping the canoe?”
With a cautious rewind, she promptly resumes her former position on the bench. “It’s best not to risk that. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Promise?” A twitch from below the belt is a bit too eager.
“Uh-huh. Especially if we find a hot spring.”
“Would you go in if there is one?”
Blakely tugs off a glove, licks her finger, and sticks that moist digit up in the light breeze. After a few seconds of silent deliberation, she seems to arrive at a decision. “I’ve done the Polar Plunge and didn’t catch hypothermia. The temperature isn’t unbearably cold. I could peel off my top layers and be comfortable enough for several minutes. Plus, that water should be warm. Isn’t that the point?”
I’m not going to argue about her stripping and getting wet. This could be a game changer. It all depends on stumbling across a fucking hot springs pot in the middle of nowhere. I don’t think the odds are favorable, but any chance is better than none. With a wag of my brows, I toss her an offer. “I’ll even go in first.”
“Deal.” She offers an open palm, which I accept with a firm shake. “So, how likely is it we actually find one of those steamy pools?”
“They’re known to appear throughout Canada, but this far north might be a different story.” I allow my gaze to wander across the forest walling us in on both sides. What I find changes the route of my thoughts.
The destruction at our camp was merely a prequel. This far into our daily travels and the shadows of ruin still follow us. Broken limbs hang by strips of bark. Clumps of debris litter the river. The wreckage doesn’t appear all bad, though. A heavy blanket of white covers most surfaces, signaling a fresh start for the following morning. That sheet of snow isn’t just a cloak for the frozen ground. I can’t help but feel like nature is giving us a free pass.
Blakely’s focus trails mine, scouring the embankments. “I still can’t believe we didn’t wake up during that storm. It must have been super loud, huh?”
“I don’t see how any of this could be quiet. From the looks of it, a damn tornado swept through the woods with a baby blizzard following close behind.”
“And we didn’t hear a thing.”
“Karma owes us,” I murmur with a grin.
Her baby blues light up brighter than the sunrise. “Are you a believer?”
My smile stretches wider. “Getting there. Are you usually a heavy sleeper?”
She blows out a long breath, flapping her lips in the process. “Uh, yeah. Probably to a fault. I usually need three alarms and several snooze rounds. How about you?”
I laugh at the idea of her finally rolling out of bed, disgruntled and mussed as fuck. “The total opposite. I rarely get more than a few shitty hours of rest. The slightest noise has me up and alert.”
Blakely’s frown holds the weight of my somber tone. “That’s awful.”
I shrug off the common reaction. “It’s what I’m used to. Running on an empty tank doesn’t seem so bad when I don’t remember the alternative.”
“Prison?”
A bob of my head. “It always leads back to that.”
“Do you think it will get easier one day? I mean, after all of this is a distant memory and you’re able to truly move on?”
A single glance at her has me reconsidering what I’ve assumed would always be my existence. The future is brighter just knowing she will be there, even if I only have the memory of this moment. The rumbling in my gut refuses to believe our story ends here.
Life hasn’t been kind to me. Quite the fucking opposite, in many respects. But dropping Blakely in my path, giving me the opportunity to be with her, is a peace offering I’m taking full advantage of. “Without a doubt, sweetheart.”
Survival tip #20: Packing an extra set of clothes—when possible—should never be taken for granted.
Warmth soaks into my skin, and I moan at the simple indulgence. I tip my chin to the sky with a sluggish grin. Even with the ever-present chill nipping at me, this generous burst of unfiltered sunlight is spreading heat smoother than melted butter. Every muscle is pliant from the organic