“I’ll keep that in mind. No bananas. Got it.” I push open the door and turn one last time to see him watching me.
“Goodnight.”
* * *
The alarm goes off at six, and I groan. I turn it off and pull the pillow over my eyes to block the sun that’s peeking through the curtains. I want to go back to sleep.
There’s a dull ache between my legs from when I took care of business last night—twice. My mind was reeling too much for one orgasm to be enough to let me sleep. After my second one, I practically passed out from exhaustion.
I set the alarm so I could wake up and do something with my hair. We’re going for a hike, so I’ll wear a pair of shorts and a Greenwich Preparatory tank top (go Spartians!) with hiking boots, but I’m sure I’ll sweat. My hair puffs up like an afro when that happens.
I peek out into the living room. Mom is sitting on the couch, reading a book, and drinking coffee. I get my love of romance novels from her. She loves living in the fantasy of it, but she reads more historical romance of books while I lean more toward traditional contemporary.
“How’s Reginald this morning?”
She pulls her reading glasses off and pats the seat next to her. “Tristan seems like a nice boy, Lana.”
I sit and tuck my legs under me. “He is. We’re going hiking this morning.”
“Just be careful. We’re only here for another week and a half. I don’t want you getting too attached and leave with a broken heart.”
I nod. I know she’s right. “I’ll be careful. I’m meeting him for breakfast first. Could you braid my hair in French braid pigtails? I don’t want it to frizz up.”
She smiles and puts her book down. I turn, and she works with practiced ease to get my hair into braids. When she’s done, she pats my shoulder. I invite her to breakfast, but she declines, telling me she’s going to wait for Dad. I’m grateful because I really didn’t want her there; I only asked to be courteous.
After getting changed, I make my way over to the main house. I’m early, so I bring a book with me and sit at one of the picnic benches. There’s a slight chill to the air this morning. I wish I’d brought my sweatshirt out with me, but it should warm up soon, especially once we start hiking. I crack open my book and start reading.
I’m not sure how long it is before he comes and finds me, but as soon as he’s close, I can feel his presence. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and a shiver runs down my spine. I look up and see him leaning against the pole on the porch. He’s in a pair of gray basketball shorts, a loose University of Wyoming football t-shirt, and a pair of hiking boots.
“Morning, Lana. Sleep well?”
I close my book and swing my leg over the bench to go to him. “I did. You?”
“Not really. I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about this girl I kissed.”
I nibble on some skin on my lower lip, trying to keep my smile at bay. My arms are crossed over my book, holding it tight to my chest. “Oh yeah?”
“Whatcha reading?” He gently pulls on the book, and I let him take it. He looks at the half-naked man on the cover and gives me a quizzical look. “You seem to like your romance books.” He lowers his voice. “Is it because the men are so hot, or is it because they turn you on?”
My entire body flushes with mortification. “It’s because real life sucks, and romance is a getaway. No matter what, the couples are going to live happily ever after. I like the fantasy of it all. The meet cute, the drama, and the perfect happily ever after.” I need to change the subject because he’s looking at me like he wants to eat me for breakfast. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
Chapter 10
Tristan
Bill made us omelets and toast with a side of fresh fruit. Lana seemed to really enjoy it. Although, she didn’t mention not liking mushrooms, and she picked all of those out of the eggs. I’ll make sure I tell him no mushrooms next time. I tell her about the hike we’re doing today, and when I explain we have to drive to it, her demeanor changes.
She seems hesitant at first, but when my dad comes by and tells her what a great hike it is, she relaxes and agrees. I open the truck door for her and help her up into the cab. It’s only about thirty minutes out to the start of the trail, and then it’s about a two-hour hike roundtrip. I’ve made sure to pack plenty of snacks, and we each have a water pack.
The music blares when I start my truck, and I turn it down. She makes a face at my choice, and when I ask her about it, she tells me she hates country music.Clearly, she doesn’t know what good music is.
“Whodoesn’tlike country music?” I ask in disbelief.
“Um, a lot of people.” She laughs. “Did you drive out with the hikers yesterday, too?” she asks as I turn left onto the highway.
“No. There are some trails through the woods close to the ranch. I took two families with small kids, and they didn’t want anything too strenuous. You’ll like this trail. There are a lot of rock formations, and we might even see a moose or two.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh yeah? I’ve never seen one before. Is the hike going to be hard?”
