Page 8

8

JAKE

“ Y o, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine. We got a problem.”

I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. “What time is it?”

Trinsky crouched on his side of the tent, his back to me. His broad shoulders threatened the integrity of his light-blue T-shirt as he expertly rolled his sleeping bag. My gaze slipped to his snug khaki shorts and? —

Oh, no. No, no, no. I had to pull it together. What happened last night could not happen again…ever.

“Nine o’clock.”

“Nine o’clock!” I wiggled out of my sleeping bag in a rush, dragging a hand through my hair. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I tried to, but you were dead to the world. And now we got an issue,” he grunted, turning to fling the pillow he’d absconded with in my direction.

“What is it?”

“Well, we—” Trinsky narrowed his eyes and pointed at me. “Where’s your shirt?”

My face flushed with insta-mortification as I glanced at my chest. “Huh? I, um…got too warm in the middle of the night.”

He scoffed. “You jerked one out.”

“I did not.” I lied through my teeth.

“Ri-ght,” Trinsky drawled in a teasing tone that made me want to deck him. “Whatever you say. But if you?—”

“Just shut up and tell me what’s going on.” I riffled through my backpack for a change of clothes.

“David and his son got sick. Vinnie had them picked up along with their gear twenty minutes ago.”

I froze. “Twenty minutes ago?”

“Yeah, the kid was eating breakfast, went green, and yakked up his bacon and eggs in a bush.”

“Gross.”

“You’re lucky you missed it. His dad made an appearance a minute later, looking like Casper the ghost. That whole family has the stomach flu. If they got me sick, I’m gonna be pissed,” he groused without heat. “I waited for their ride with Denny’s group, but the others started hiking already. We have three hours to get to the next stop. Move your ass, so we don’t fall too far behind.”

I shot to my feet and stabbed his chest with my forefinger. “ You should have woken me up sooner.”

Trinsky glowered. “Well, I didn’t know you were such a heavy sleeper. And what the fuck ever. I handled it. You’re welcome. Now it’s you, me, and the video dude until we catch up with the others to reconfigure the teams, so let’s do this.”

One Mississippi, two Mississippi…

I got dressed in record time and brushed my teeth with bottled water. I needed a shower, stat, but the best I could hope for was a swim in the lake somewhere along the hike. I put on extra deodorant, grabbed my gear, and met Denny and Trinsky near the trailhead.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” I aimed my apology at Denny and Ray, neither of whom seemed bothered by the delay.

Denny shrugged and handed me a small carafe of coffee and a banana. “No worries. Since you’ve lost most of your group, you guys might as well join us. The kids are ready to get moving. Can you drink that while you go?”

“Sure, but what about our tents? Are we supposed to disassemble them or?—”

“No, Vinnie’s got someone coming to take them all down and put them up at the next location,” Trinsky said, rubbing his palms and motioning for us to follow him. “So let’s quit dawdling like a bunch of old farts and get the show on the road.”

One Mississippi, two Mississippi…

Denny snickered. “You should see your face. C’mon, he’s not that bad.”

“He is that bad,” I retorted.

“ Hmm . I’d be more concerned about the videographer. He’s not much of an outdoorsman.” We watched Ray hobble after Trinsky, wincing in unison when he tripped over his shoelaces.

“At least he’s wearing sneakers today.”

“True.” Denny adjusted his ball cap thoughtfully. “Well, one day and one night to go. You can do this, Milligan.”

I hoped so.

Sleeping in and missing the abrupt exodus of two more campers hadn’t made for a great start to the day, but a little coffee and a break from Trinsky improved my mood immediately. I loved hiking, and I’d been camping in the Four Forest area my whole life. I knew these woods well.

The trail between Pinecrest and Wood Hollow was the flattest portion, and most of it hugged the lakeside—ideal for swim breaks on warm summer days. We’d completed that portion yesterday and were about to embark on the Wood Hollow-Elmwood crest trail.

“Is it far?” Ray paused to take a swig of water with one scuffed Nike perched on a boulder.

“No, just a few miles.” I signaled for Denny to go ahead, hoping Trinsky would join him, but he stopped in the middle of the dirt path and tapped his watch meaningfully. Asshole .

“Miles?” Ray croaked.

I smiled kindly. “It goes fast. There’s a swimming hole with a rope swing at the next ridge. We’ll have something to eat there and run a few games for the kids. Nothing too crazy. From there, we head inland, away from the lake. The trails thin out and the forest gets pretty thick as we climb to the vista point. From there, it’s downhill. Kind of steep, but the views are spectacular. If you don’t get any good footage of Trinsky and me, that view alone will make it worth your while.”

Ray sealed his water bottle and sighed. “I have some decent footage already. Probably more than enough, actually.”

“Oh?”

He wiped sweat from his brow. “Mostly of you bickering.”

I frowned. “About what?”

“You name it. Which camper had the best backstroke, Red Sox versus Dodgers, how to toast a marshmallow…”

“You recorded all that?”

Ray nodded. “That was the job. Thanks for making it easy. I don’t think you agree on anything, and that’s what the PR firm was looking for, so they should be happy.”

“Oh. Right.” I fiddled with my sunglasses and inclined my chin. “We should continue.”

He didn’t seem excited by the prospect, but he shoved his water bottle away and gamely trudged toward Trinsky, who greeted us with a tight smile and ushered Ray to move ahead of us.

“Denny and his team didn’t stop. We’re gonna get lost if you don’t keep up, Milligan.”

“No, we won’t,” I snapped. “I’m the guide here, remember?”

“ Hmph . What’s with the slowpoke?” he whispered, tickling my earlobe and sending an unwelcome spark of awareness along my spine.

The memory of my clandestine midnight session with my right hand hit me out of the blue.

I chewed on my bottom lip, gaze forward. “He’s fine. He’s just…running out of steam.”

“We’re supposed be in this together, so maybe we should take turns hanging with him,” he suggested.

Wow, that was…unusually considerate.

“Good idea. Stick with him for a while, and I’ll lead the way.”

“Let’s do this, Magellan,” he snarked.

“Magellan?”

“Yeah, don’t you know your history? Ferdinand Magellan was Portuguese, but he led the Spanish expedition that discovered the strait that makes it so you can pass from the Atlantic to the Pacific. Don’t ask me where it is, but?—”

“Chile.”

Trinsky raised a brow. “Oh, look at you. Guess you know shit too.”

This was where I’d make a snide comment about remembering basic junior high history, but I went with the truth instead. “It was a recent Jeopardy question. My dad and Smitty love that show, and I can’t escape it when I visit them.”

“Ahh. Well, I’m a history genius on the side.”

“Really?”

“Nah, my kid brother is my history dealer,” Trinsky said offhandedly, turning with a nod to Ray, who’d circled back to us. “You ready to hike?”

Ray held up his cell triumphantly. “I am now. That’s the first interaction between you two that didn’t sound murderous. If you can get me to civilization, I’ll forward this to PR and call it a day.”

“You’ve been recording us on your cell?” I asked dubiously, though I knew that he was the only one besides the guides with a phone since he wasn’t technically a camper.

“I have a camera built into my rucksack to capture candid, real-life moments too. Nothing scripted.” He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Yes, this is exactly the content I was hoping for.”

And with that, Ray headed off, a lighter bounce in his step.

“Huh. If the video man leaves early too, this is over. We should call a ride for him and be done with it. What do you say?”

I bit my bottom lip, shifting my gaze from our lone charge, practically skipping up the trail to Trinsky, who was…staring at me.

“Do I have toothpaste on my face?” I licked at the corner of my mouth, unthinking.

He cleared his throat as he rubbed his scruffy jaw. “No, you’re just…hairy. I’ve never seen you with a beard. It doesn’t look terrible.”

“Was that a compliment?” I snarked, tugging at my baseball hat.

“Sure, bud. If I was gay, I’d totally do you.” Trinsky winked, squeezing my shoulder before trotting after Ray.

And me? I couldn’t move. My reflexes failed me—my jaw dropped, and my feet felt like cement blocks.

I knew better than to take anything Trinsky said seriously. He was an attention-starved clown who got off on shocking anyone unlucky enough to be stuck in his sphere. But last night had happened, and I was leery of something unpleasant lurking in some shadowy region of my brain.

I might despise him, but that didn’t negate the uncomfortable truth that I found Mason Trinsky weirdly compelling. I supposed that was proof that it was possible for me to be simultaneously disgusted and fascinated by…him.

Yuck.