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When Logan had held up his glass and said he was devouring a tasty Animal Doctor…Holy shit.

Every cell in my body cried out in a collective swoon, and it made me throbby all over. I needed to know whathis three days of stubble would feel like, rough on my thighs while his tongue…

Every sensible thought had flown out the window, straight up until I had caught my breath and noped myself right out of Vixen’s parking lot.

As though I’d suddenly become risk averse as a person.Da fuck?

He probably slept around, and I didn’t have a condom. The thought of asking him if he had one had made me realize I was about to fuck a stranger in his work truck, and I didn’t want to invite a stranger into my home. Without my buzz, all those issues had seemed way bigger than they probably should have.

Mentally kicking myself this morning didn’t help much. At least I had camping to look forward to. Still, I had some serious regret over second-guessing myself and not taking one hot Logan to bed last night. Skipping out without saying bye hadn’t been a shining moment in my decision-making either.

No use whining over intentionallyunspilled milk.

A breeze moved through the screen on the window, beckoning me out to the woods I loved. I closed the window, drained the last of my coffee, placed the empty mug in the sink, and scooped up my bags on the way out of the house.

The weathermen had underestimated the first cold snap following the Autumn Equinox, and the brisk air tickled my nose as I opened the garage door and loaded my tent, my sleeping bag, and supplies into the back of my Toyota Rav4. The temperature had dropped at leasttwenty degrees overnight, and I was thankful I hadn’t managed to drink myself into a hangover.

Perfect camping weather meant I couldn’t wait to get out to Magnolia State Park, even with Logan sexing up my daydreaming. With the possibility of patient emergencies, I never drove far from Willow Creek. Someday, I wanted to see the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee or maybe the Catskill Mountains in New York. For now, I didn't like being that far away from my patients and their families.

Sweltering didn’t begin to describe the humidity and heat of Louisiana during the summer, so I used up every weekend with agreeable weather.

My weekend bag was always easy to pack since I never emptied it all the way. I rarely went hiking with anyone else, and I always let my mom, Sophia Carter, know where I was and how long I’d be gone. She also had access to the location devices I kept pinned to my pack. Now, whether she remembered how to access it or not, that was the actual question. My mom had never gotten along well with tech.

I slammed the rear door of my car before holding down the two on my cell. It speed-dialed her. The line rang once before she picked up.

“Oh, Emma. There you are.” Her voice always soothed the part of my heart that missed my dad. Camping and hiking trips had been something we’d done for years… until Dad had gotten too sick to go on them.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Getting an early start, are ya?”

“Old habits are hard to break.” We’d always left as early as we could. “You should come next time,” I said. “You used to love it out there.”

She chuckled. “I’m getting too old to sleep on the ground. Maybe we could take a Thanksgiving trip to New Port Orleans. You know I want to study with the veterinary surgeon there anyway.”

“We should.” I paused to wait for her to comment. We both knew she couldn’t go camping without Dad around—too many memories—so New Port Orleans would have to happen. “I’m headed out to Magnolia.”

“On your new bike?” She wasn’t fond of my latest acquisition—a bright red motorcycle, currently parked in the other spot in my garage.

“No, my saddle bags didn’t come in time. Maybe next trip.”

Shame, really.Perfect camping weather meant perfect riding weather.

“Anybody going with you?”

“No, I haven’t found anybody who likes it as much as I do.”

Or who I liked enough to take along.

In my head, Logan flashed his smirky grin.Could have ridden something last night…

“Are you ever going to get a hiking buddy?”

“At least you didn't ask if I was ever going to give you grandchildren.”

“Do you want me to ask that? I could start asking.”The smile in her voice was undeniable. “I couldalwaysask that question. I mean, when are you?—”

“Mom,” I interrupted. “You know that's not what I meant. I’ve got to be a minimum of thirty-five years old before you can start asking that question. I’m pretty sure that’s a rule.”