Page 24 of How You See Me (You and Me Duology #2)

Josie

W hat are we doing today?”

I ask Hayes, my pencil sweeping across the sketchpad in my lap.

As we approach Memphis, traffic thickens around us. It’s chaotic and noisy, but inside the van, the quiet is louder.

“Not sure. Want to research things to do in Memphis?”

“You’re joking?”

His gaze flicks my way, one brow arched. “You know me better than that by now.”

That makes me smile. “We have to do something Elvis-related.”

“We don’t have to do anything. And I’m putting my foot down on Graceland.”

I can’t help the chuckle that squirts out. Hayes rarely flat-out refuses anything. He’ll push back, but his tone is never serious, marking the topic as negotiable. Not this time.

“Why not?” I ask, a little sad Elvis will not be entering the building with us on this trip.

“It’s cliché.”

“And Dollywood isn’t?”

“You were too excited about that one.”

“What if I’m that excited about Graceland.”

“You’re not,” he deadpans. “I can tell.”

I frown at him. “So, you think you know my cues after three days?”

“Some of them.”

Hearing that shouldn’t make my stomach somersault, yet it’s an Olympic gymnast at the moment.

Sometimes, I forget this isn’t our trip.

When he takes care of me or lets me have my way, I have to remind myself that I’m getting the royal treatment because he’s loyal to my brother, not to me.

But good Graceland, he makes it easy to wish he was.

I sneak a glance at him, and my pencil keeps moving, sketching without thought.

I draw his face, the confident tilt of his head, the bulk in his shoulders.

Just for fun, I add a few imaginative embellishments to the sketch, better telling the story of how I see him.

He reminds me of every romance novel hero I’ve ever read wrapped into one, and it’s getting harder and harder not to read into the flutters he sets into motion.

“What are you drawing?”

“Nothing.” I point quickly at a billboard to distract him. “How about a hike? ”

He follows my line of sight to an advertisement for waterfall adventure walks. “Much better.”

◆◆◆

The first wooded trailhead isn’t far from the diner where we pick up a map and food for a picnic.

I take a hundred pictures before we reach the little waterfall at the end. It’s cute, but not as grand as the view on the way there.

We eat lunch, then try another nearby trail.

About a mile in, the path converges with a wide creek, its water dancing over smooth stones, catching the sunlight in brilliant sparkles. The waterfall crashes ahead, tall and powerful, pouring down from a rocky ledge. The deep sound of the water fills the air and my chest right along with it.

At the bottom, a quiet little pond shimmers, reflecting the surrounding trees. Wildflowers and dandelions bloom all around, growing in every crevice like they don’t care about order or rules. It’s a beautiful chaos that makes perfect sense to me.

I already know how I’d paint it. The waterfall in bold strokes, the pond and floating mist in pastel washes, the wildflowers in quick, playful flicks of color. Every corner of this place feels like a secret someone whispered only to us.

I take another round of photos, catching Hayes in a few of them (I’ll enjoy those later in private). By the time I sit next to him on a dry rock near the falls, the sun has dipped behind the hills, the twilight hour for photos coming to an end.

“This is so peaceful. After living around concrete, noise, and smog all my life, I think I could get used to the country.”

Hayes stares out over the water, still and mindful.

“What about you?” I ask. “After your service where will you settle down?”

Like Jordan, I assume he has a plan for retirement. Dreams, ideas, places to see, things to do.

“I don’t know.”

“You haven’t thought about it?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never had a reason to. I always go where I’m needed, and that service was supposed to be my lifelong career.”

“That’s noble.” I pluck a daisy-like wildflower and tuck it behind my ear. “But let’s pretend everyone in your family is happy and thriving. I’m not saying they aren’t,” I backtrack when he flinches. “Just trying to get into your head.”

“Too late,” he murmurs under his breath, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re already in my head, making me think about things I usually don’t. Like whether I should wear a cowboy hat out in public.”

I laugh, though my heart clenches at the confession. “That’s a yes , by the way. ”

“Noted.” Something passes between us, hovering there like a dangling thread neither of us wants to pull.

“Anyway, back to the question. Would you want a house in the country or something in the city?”

“I’ve always wanted solitude.”

“You can’t have that with a wife and kids. Are you imagining that you’re alone in your future home?”

“Before this trip . . .” He pauses, glancing out over the stream. “That’s exactly what I pictured.”

“And now?”

“I’m thinking that sounds . . . lonely.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Some things my Mom said today.” His lets his thoughts take over again before he plucks a flower from the grass and holds it out to me. “And you.”

“Me?” I take the flower, heart fluttering from his unexpected sweetness and fingers brushing mine. “How?”

“You force me to see life differently.” He takes in a long breath and leans forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. “I love what I do, but I’m starting to realize it may not be everything. Maybe I want something else to live for. Something more for me.”

“Hayes Montgomery, are you finally realizing that you take life too seriously?”

The tight lines around his eyes loosen, along with his muscles. “I think I am.”

Reaching up, I tuck the flower stem behind his ear. And dang if it isn’t the cutest thing ever. “Prove it.”

“Excuse me? ”

“Let’s do something spontaneous.”

He lets out his normal exasperated response when I’m being impossible, but he doesn’t shut me out. “Like what?”

My eyes dart over the spill pond below the falls. No one else has joined us since we arrived. A revelation too tantalizing to ignore. “Let’s go for a swim.”

“I’m sure there’s a rule against that.”

“Exactly.” I’m already yanking off my sneakers.

“Josie—” His voice grows tight as I strip off my shirt. “For the love of God—”

He tries not to look at me—always the gentleman—but it isn’t necessary. We’re not skinny dipping, and I wore a sports bra today. It covers more skin than my swimsuit. Can’t say the same for my panties though. That lacy number will be useless in the water.

“I didn’t know you were a religious man, Hayes.”

“Please put that back on.”

“Nope. Here’s your chance to live freely.” I drop my shorts before he can talk me out of it and take off to find a jumping spot near the deepest area of the pool. I don’t check if he’s following until I emerge from the cool water.

And there he is, standing on the rock where I jumped, barefoot in nothing but black boxer-briefs.

This rare moment of him letting go deserves encouragement and validation, but I can’t find the words.

Every sculpted muscle flexes as he bends to check the water's depth. I wish I had my camera to forever capture Hayes and the natural work of art he is. Forget the waterfall. It’s nothing compared to this view .

“Can you touch?” he asks.

I’d love to . I’d love to trace the hard lines of all those muscles, run my fingers through his hair, and feel his smooth skin. It’s only fair since I was out of it during my sponge bath.

“Barely. Be careful.”

He jumps in, cannonball style, and disappears under the white bubbles on the surface.

For a while, we swim and float, enjoying the refreshing water and freedom letting go offers. I’d like nothing more than zero interruptions for the next several hours. Sunset, waterfall, birds serenading us, and the most gorgeous man. It’s beyond romantic.

So many gooey and swoony emotions compete to be released, and I struggle to hold them back. I want to know more about him. Get under that irresistible skin and unlock the real Hayes.

“I’m proud of you,” I manage, swimming a little closer and paddling to keep my chin above the rolling waves. “Have you always been a rule-follower? Even when you were little?”

A rare, uncontained laugh burst out of him. “Shit, no. I got into all kinds of trouble.”

“Did the military smack it out of you?”

He smiles. Another real one. Maybe by the end of this trip, seeing him happy won’t surprise me as much. Wouldn’t that be marvelous?

“Yes, and my father leaving.”

“When was that? If you don’t mind me asking. ”

He leans his head back to rewet his hair and kicks farther away from me, but he’s not as sly as he thinks. I saw the anger and hurt flash across his face before he clipped the gut reaction.

“Four years ago,” he says, surprising me. I fully expected him to retreat. “Shortly after my baby sister started kindergarten.”

“That must have been hard on your mom.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’d like to.” I close the distance and hover a few feet away. Pain lingers deep in his eyes, and it’s impossible not to feel the ache along with him. “If you ever want to talk about it, I hope you know I’m happy to listen. I’d never judge.”

“I know.” His gaze falls to the water, the stream beyond, the trees. Anything but me.

The urge to hold him eats me alive. I want him to understand that he doesn’t have to face his demons alone.

I know what it’s like to lose a parent. While his aren't gone forever, grief over his father walking away from their family still hits like a moving train.

The aftermath and never-ending recovery are just as painful as the initial blow.

“How about another topic?” I suggest for us both.

“Thank you.”

He finally comes back to me, his internal darkness fading as he relaxes again. I almost hold back what I’m thinking just to save this tender moment. But he’s opening up more than usual, and I’ve been wanting to know.

“Will you be honest? ”

“Always.”

“Why didn’t you kiss me last fall?”

He hesitates, his gaze scanning the water. “You already know why.”

“Not really. I assumed it was the harem I stole you from, all those better options waiting for you back at the table.” I’m teasing, but his expression stays stone-cold serious.

“There is no better option than you.”

I don’t mean to, but disbelief pops out of me with a scoff.

“You’re the ice cream sundae, Josie,” he says sharply, swimming past me. He climbs out—his attempt to end the conversation—but there’s no way I’m letting him drop that little nugget and walk away.

“Is it just Jordan, then?”

“Yes.” He pushes the water off his skin with more force than necessary and reaches for his shorts. I’ve upset him, but for the life of me, I don’t know why until he says, “And it always will be. Your brother isn’t going anywhere, and I will not disrespect him.”

He steps one wet leg into the shorts and gives me his back as I climb out. With the shorts secured, he reaches for his shoes, startled to find me standing beside him. He spins back around.

His gentlemanly restraint is getting old, burning deeper than the cold air on my wet skin.

“Here.” He snatches up his shirt and holds it out with his eyes diverted. “Use this to dry off. ”

Thanks, but I’d rather stuff it in a plastic bag to preserve your scent long enough to wear it on my bare skin later. That’s not weird, is it?

“Hayes, please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not.” He starts toward where I left my clothes, then waves me on. “Someone’s coming.”

Rushing after him, the jagged rocks feel different when the trail is a hasty escape route. I didn’t notice any sharp edges or spiky weeds when I crossed them earlier, my excitement blocking it out. “Ouch.”

Voices travel to us from up the trail, getting closer. What if it’s the park rangers? Would we be fined or arrested for swimming?

Hayes points toward the adjacent tree line, sneakers already on, my clothes gripped in his hand. “Let’s go that way. I think it’ll be a shortcut to the parking lot.”

“I need to put my shoes on.” I wince as the rocks jab into my foot.

“There’s no time.” He takes his T-shirt from me and pulls it over my head. “Hop on.” Spinning, he lowers for me to climb onto his back.

My breath hitches. “You want to carry me?”

“Or you can walk through the woods.”

Well, that sounds infinitely worse. “Fine.”

I push my arms through the sleeves and lock them around his neck. His wrap under my legs, securing me to him, as he takes off.

This could not have been a better decision. His athletic frame, working to support us on the uphill climb, is beyond sensual. I want to run my hands over his bare pecs and kiss his glistening neck. I press against him more, my breath brushing over his ear, and his jaw clenches in response.

He picks up the pace, heading toward a large fallen branch as if he doesn’t see it. “Watch out for the—”

The pinecones and bark scrape against his legs, and he stumbles. I can almost hear his skin ripping.

“Are you okay?”

He doesn’t stop to examine his wounds. Just keeps going, like he wants this moment to end as much as I don’t want to let go.

“You’re probably bleeding.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ignore it all you want, but the physical cuts are still there and need to be addressed.”

I lean forward to see him better. If he were to turn his head, his nose and lips would bump into mine. Given how he’s clearly upset, his gaze trained on the terrain ahead, I might be the only one who wouldn’t mind.

“I’m cleaning you up when we get to the van. No complaints.”

“Josie,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

“Have you ever said my name without a frustrated tone?”

“I doubt it.”

◆◆ ◆

At the van, he sets me down, and I search the back for the first aid kit. I’d bet all my art supplies that he brought one, and I find it in the small cabinet by the door.

“Sit,” I demand, and his arms cross in defiance.

“Josie, I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine . Blood is dripping down your leg.”

With a grunt, he lowers to sit inside the open door, filling me with a little more smugness than appropriate. He’s injured from carrying me half a mile, uphill, and through the woods. He saved us from being fined or worse. The man deserves a medal, not my surly side.

“I’m sorry. I just want to help.”

“Josie.” My name comes out breathy this time, wrecked and raw. Finally, something other than exasperation.

“Hayes.” I rest my hands on his thighs. “Let me take care of you.”