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I slipped my hand under his arm. “I do.”
12
MILES
Having someone who loved where they lived show off their town was a completely unique perspective. The fact that Lydia even jokingly told me about where she partied in her youth without any embarrassment was refreshing. She loved this little place. She wasn’t interested in cashing out and escaping.
I knew how to work with and motivate someone willing to and wanting a change. What did I do with someone who loved what they had?
If it had been me giving a tour of where I grew up, it would have been a very short afternoon as I drove from the factory where I would have been expected to sell my soul for the rest of my natural life, to the bar where my folks and older brother regularly blew their paychecks getting drunk before coming home to smack me around, to the trestle bridge where me and my friends drank too much and smoked pot. And that would’ve been it.
I didn’t have happy memories of the elementary school where I met my best friend who ended up turning on me in the eighthgrade. I certainly didn’t have funny stories to tell about being in high school, considering how often I had been suspended for fighting. Maybe I would have shown Lydia the football field where I spent one season on the team dreaming NFL dreams and thoughts of making it big in professional football. But I would’ve messed that up by showing her that secret space under the bleachers where I lost my virginity and was given the virginity of half the girls on the cheerleading squad.
But this was Brookdale, not that crap hole of town that I had escaped from. And this was Lydia’s tour of a place she deeply loved.
She drove us into the country, and the road began to wind up into the mountains before I bothered to ask any questions.
“So, where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
“You aren’t planning on losing me in the woods, are you?” I teased.
“No one is getting lost,” she said with a little smirk playing across her lips.
After another ten minutes of winding road, she pulled over onto a gravel shoulder where the road got wider.
“Come on,” she said as she got out of the car.
I climbed out and followed her across the road as she made her way into the tree line.
“There aren’t any bears out here, are there?” I asked.
“We get bears occasionally. When I was younger, there was even a report that somebody in town saw a moose. We’re not very high up in the mountains, so we should be fine.”
“Are you seriously taking me out into the woods with wild animals?”
Lydia stopped and put her hands on her hips as she turned around to glare at me. “Are you calling me a wild animal?”
I could not help myself. I stepped in close, wrapping my arms around her for the first time in months. I spoke quietly, placing my lips right next to her ear. “I remember exactly how you screamed when I made you come. You were very much a wild animal, and I cannot wait to see you unleashed in all your passionate glory again.”
She stiffened in my grasp, and I heard the gulp in her throat.
“Miles, Miles,” she sighed as I placed a trail of soft kisses under her ear and down her neck.
“This is exactly what I’ve missed about you.”
“Miles.” She chastised me with my name and pressed her palms against my chest before pushing me away.
“It’s not as if anyone else is out here to discover our secret,” I said.
She grabbed my hand and started walking again. “I don’t want some bear to catch us,” she teased.
The trees cleared and we stepped out onto a rocky ledge. I was speechless as I took in the view. Below us, spread out like a detailed map, was the perfect overview of the town. From here, I could see the Sweet Mountain Inn, the library, and even thegazebo at the end of Main Street. The houses and buildings all looked like miniature children’s toys.
I glanced back at Lydia. She looked out over the town. I stepped in close, and she turned her head to face me before I lowered to claim her lips. She tasted like cherry pie and dreams.
“I would make love to you right here if I didn’t think you would evaporate from pure embarrassment at being outside in the nude.”