“How’s the coffee?” Chase asked.
Lily looked over her shoulder, appreciating the view for the thirtieth time that morning. Chase wore the ribbed white tank she’d slept in and a pair of midthigh khaki shorts, which Lily knew had nothing underneath. With her tousled hair, her long muscled limbs, and the ever-present rakish grin, Chase looked better than any fantasy Lily’d ever had. Then again, she hadn’t even been able to imagine anything close to this. She kept that to herself. Chase didn’t need to know she was exploring uncharted territory, especially since she was looking forward to leaving that reality behind for as long as this fantasy lasted. She was going to grab on to this wild adventure with both hands.
Lily lifted her coffee cup in salute. “This is amazing. Funny, somehow instead of a French press I imagined you with one of those old-fashioned tin percolators with the glass thingy on top where the coffee shot up when it came to a boil. This is much better.”
Chase laughed. “I’m a forest ranger, not a cowboy. And it’s still the twenty-first century, even out here.”
“Well, this is my definition of decadence.” Lily gestured to her bare legs propped up on the coffee table. She hadn’t bothered to do more than pull on her T-shirt and the panties she’d retrieved from the floor where she’d tossed them away in abandon a few hours before. If she cataloged her firsts since she met Chase, she’d have a very long list. Kissing a woman she barely knew—the younger sister of her best friend at that—and waking said woman up at four a.m. for sex being at the top.
“Be prepared to add to your list,” Chase said as if reading her mind—something else she was very good at, along with the already noted kissing and exceptional sex. “The water’s ready for the shower.”
“Wonderful. I’m more than ready for it.” Lily swallowed the last sip of her coffee, set her mug on the coffee table, and headed for the bathroom.
“Oh, it’s not in there.”
Lily frowned, having assumed the shower was behind the curtain she’d noticed when visiting the bathroom the night before. “Sorry?”
Chase pointed a thumb toward the back door leading outside from the kitchen. “It’s this way.”
“Outside.”
“All except for the winter months. Then I’ll divert the water inside, but the maintenance is easier this way.” Chase grinned. “And the view is better.”
“Of course,” Lily murmured.
Chase grabbed a stack of clothes from the counter. “I pulled out a shirt and shorts that I’m pretty sure will fit you. Might be a little loose.”
“Thanks,” Lily said. “I doubt it will take long before the news of where I spent the night makes the rounds at the lodge, but I’d prefer not to show up waving the flag of yesterday’s shirt.”
“The kids have archery this morning. The counselors will have them set up and ready to head out just about the time we’re getting back. You might be able to sneak in without shame.”
Lily laughed. “I’m not going to worry about it. At least I’ll be clean. Lead on.”
Chase took her hand, a motion that was becoming more frequent and more familiar and more right every time she did it. Lily laced her fingers through Chase’s and stepped out into a glorious summer morning. Despite the fact that it felt like she’d been awake and busy for hours, it was barely seven and the air hadn’t acquired the early July heat that would likely be stultifying by midafternoon. The sky, its usual crystalline blue, hosted a scattering of pure white fluffy clouds. Bird songs chorused, the trees rustled, and even the breeze seemed to carry the melody.
She halted abruptly on the deck that ran along the back of the cabin and stared. What could only be the shower at the far end consisted of a five-by-five platform with a big metal reservoir above it with a chain dangling down to head height.
“That’s it?” Lily said. “That’s all of it?”
Chase looked from the platform back to Lily. “There’s not much reason to enclose it out here.”
Laughing, Lily shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose you have to worry about the neighbors.”
Chase pulled off her tank and pushed down her shorts with the same unconscious abandon that she stripped to go swimming. Lily took a moment to take her in against the backdrop of forest green and cerulean blue. Of course she looked perfectly a part of the wild surroundings and of course completely arousing. Lily nearly shuddered with the instant rush of desire.
Chase quirked a brow. “You’ll be more comfortable if you don’t have your clothes on when you shower.”
“As if I’m not going to be uncomfortable in every other way,” Lily muttered to herself as she pulled off her clothes.
Chase stepped up onto the platform and held out her hand. “Water supply is limited, so best we share.”
“How much time do we have…with the water?” Lily asked.
“Three or four minutes, if we’re efficient.”
“Don’t turn it on yet, then.” Lily climbed onto the platform, wrapped her arms around Chase’s neck, and pressed against her. Thrusting a hand into Chase’s hair, she kissed her. The hunger she’d been holding back flooded through her. She tugged on Chase’s lip with her teeth and swept her tongue over the spot and into her mouth, tasting a hint of coffee, fresh mountain air, and the tangy heat that was all Chase. Everywhere their skin touched, her body came alive.
Chase hissed as everything inside her tightened, the coiled spring of need that accompanied her every waking moment around Lily ratcheted another turn. She swept her hands down Lily’s back and cupped her hips, returning the kiss that satisfied one need while stoking another. She could kiss her forever and never be finished. She would always want more. She tasted and teased her and drank her fill—and still ached for more.
Lily swayed against her and moaned softly, and Chase slipped one hand up to clasp her breast. When she rubbed her thumb over Lily’s nipple, Lily pushed her parted thighs against Chase’s leg.
“I can’t believe how hot you make me,” Lily gasped. “I need you to make me come right now.”
“Anything.” Chase tightened her grip around Lily’s waist and slid her hand down Lily’s stomach and between her thighs. Lily was ready for her, hot and open, and took Chase inside with a tilt of her hips and a whispered plea.
“Don’t tease.”
“Hold on, baby.” Chase stroked her, cupping her as she moved deeper each time, until Lily pressed hard into her palm, her body quaking. With a strangled cry Lily buried her face in Chase’s neck and sagged in her arms. Chase closed her eyes and struggled to memorize every single second.
“There’s a lot more to this mountain air than I ever knew,” Lily finally muttered against Chase’s throat.
“It’s a closely guarded secret.” Chase was pretty sure she didn’t need the mountain air, or any air at all, to sustain her as long as she could drown in Lily’s kisses. When Lily tilted her face to her, Chase kissed her again and muttered a protest when Lily pulled away. Struggling to contain the need that clawed at her deep inside for just one more moment, she said, “Ready for the shower?”
“I don’t want to waste water,” Lily said, “and I believe,” she added, pressing her palm low on Chase’s belly, “we might need to wait a bit longer.”
Lily found Chase’s clit and stroked. Chase dropped her head back against the wall and shivered. She hadn’t even realized she was right at the edge. All she’d known was Lily. “Shouldn’t take long.”
“Don’t hurry,” Lily whispered and kissed her throat.
“Too close.” Chase came, an explosion that trailed off into languorous aftershocks. When she finally opened her eyes, feeling dazed, Lily was watching her with an intensity she couldn’t read. “What?”
Lily kissed her. “You’re glorious.”
“If you say so.” Before she changed her mind, Chase reached up behind her head and pulled the chain. Lily gave a shout as the water cascaded down over them. Chase took the bar of soap from the wooden ledge next to the water reservoir and glided it over Lily’s chest and breasts and down her belly. Lily returned the favor, and they quickly scrubbed and rinsed their hair, managing to finish before the water ran out.
Dripping, Lily pushed the hair back out of her eyes and shook herself like a dog. She laughed. “That was wonderful.”
“Which part?” Chase pulled a towel from a peg and handed it to Lily.
Lily toweled her hair, then wrapped it around her torso. “I think the shower was my favorite part.”
Chase shook her head. “I’ll have to work on my technique, then.”
As Chase opened the kitchen door, Lily said, “Believe me, there’s nothing wrong—”
The radio crackled to life. “This is District Five Supervisor Natalie Evans. Reported rockslide east face of Big Bear. Hikers trapped above the slide. Emergency services en route. All officers report time to vicinity.”
Chase grabbed the radio. “Fielder. Copy that. Twenty minutes out.” She turned to Lily. “I’m going to have to go.”
“What is it?”
“Could be just a trail washout—but we’ve got people to secure first,” Chase said, already hurrying toward the bedroom.
Lily’s stomach lurched. How many other dangers would Chase face as part of her routine work that had never even occurred to her? “How will I…”
Chase held up a finger and spoke into the radio again. “Fielder, calling Thunder Ridge Lodge. Come in please.”
“This is Thunder Ridge,” Sarah’s voice came back. “Over.”
“I’ve got a callout. Can you come get Lily at the cabin?”
“Be there in thirty.”
“Copy that. Thanks.”
“You’ll be careful,” Lily said.
Chase kissed her. “Always.”
Chase dressed with the same kind of speed Lily was used to when answering an emergency call at the hospital. In less than a minute she was out the door, and gone. Lily dressed in the borrowed clothes Chase had left for her, checked the cabin, and tidied up the coffee cups. The door hadn’t been locked when they’d arrived, and she left it that way.
As she sat on the front steps and waited for Sarah, the kernel of worry that always settled in her stomach when Chase was out on a call returned.
* * *
Sooner than Lily expected, the mechanical rumbling of an engine drawing near cut through the soft background noise of the forest. Sarah, driving the Kermit-green Jeep, emerged from the trailhead into the small clearing in front of the cabin, and Lily rose, dusted off the back of her borrowed shorts, and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Sorry to drag you all the way out here,” Lily said.
Sarah three-pointed a turn and headed back down the trail before speaking. “It’s fine. These things happen.”
These things happen. Well, yes, they probably did, to most people, possibly, but not to her. Her night with Chase—her entire affair, and she really ought to call it that although the word made her cringe for some reason—was definitely not on the spectrum of her usual behavior. She was far too busy and far too…grounded—yes, that was a good word for it—to have a torrid one-night-stand with a hot younger woman. But she had and was contemplating doing it again as soon as possible the next morning. She’d spent the time waiting for Sarah drifting in the still-fresh sensations of sex with Chase. Viewing herself in retrospect, as she’d never imagined herself to be. Aggressive, demanding, and—to use another word she’d never dreamed of applying to herself—wanton. She smiled to herself. Surprisingly, it fit, and she didn’t mind. Chase made it easy to accept what she wanted, to give and take pleasure of every kind freely. A rare gift she’d never expected and hoped she had returned with all the joy and wonder she’d experienced.
“This is a little awkward,” Sarah said.
Lily really, really hoped all of that had not shown on her face. “I know. You first.”
Sarah half smiled, still watching the road. “Ordinarily, I’d tease you about your activities of last night and try to get you to tell me how it was. That feels a little weird now.”
Lily laughed. “You know I wouldn’t tell you anything interesting anyhow. At least not much.”
“You always were pretty stingy with details.”
“That’s because there weren’t any good bits to really share,” Lily said, intending to divert the conversation away from her sex life but realizing instantly that her previous encounters really hadn’t been particularly interesting ones. She’d had what she considered good sex, satisfying for both parties, she hoped, but nothing that had expressed or spoke to what had been burning deep inside her for probably all her life. The need to connect with another person as deeply, more intimately, physically—and as a consequence, emotionally—as she had the night before with Chase. The realization was stunning and terrifying.
Her silence must’ve registered something of her quandary because Sarah said cautiously, speaking slowly, as if feeling her way across a quagmire that she might sink into up to her neck if she wasn’t careful, “And I’m taking it that last night was different?”
Lily wanted to answer in the same careful way, choosing what she hoped was the diplomatic path with Chase’s sister. “Chase is a very special woman.”
Sarah erupted into laughter. “That is such BS. Of course I know that.” She shot a look over to Lily, no judgment in her expression. “She’s hooked you, hasn’t she.”
“I…” Lily searched for an answer. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I would know what that felt like. And truthfully, I don’t feel caught. If anything, I feel like Chase is giving me all the room to run she possibly can.”
“Hmm.” Sarah nodded. “How much do you know about fishing?”
“Sorry?” Lily said, totally at a loss. Fishing? How did they go from sex to fishing, and really, yuck.
“When you want to hook a fish and be sure you don’t lose it, you give it enough line to run until it tires itself out.” Sarah snapped her fingers. “Then you set the hook.”
“I could have spent the rest of my life without knowing that.” Lily was about to add that analogy was ridiculous, until she considered it. The theory, in a way, made perfect sense. Chase had been letting her run for weeks. Still, she was a person and not a fish. Thankfully. “I’m not running, and I’m not caught. So that destroys your theory.”
“If you say so,” Sarah said in a voice that said she didn’t agree at all.
Lily huffed.
“I’m not going to say anything else,” Sarah said, “because I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. No meddling.”
“That sounds painful.”
Sarah laughed again and turned up the trail to the lodge. “Surprisingly, it feels really good.” She slowed to a stop in the parking area, turned off the engine, and released her seat belt to face Lily. “Seriously. I love you both, and I’d hate to see either one of you get hurt. But you’re both way past your majority, and you don’t need a supervisor. So if you’re happy and she’s happy, then I am too.”
“Thank you.”
“So, was it great?”
Lily felt the color climb into her face as she stepped out of the Jeep. After a second, she leaned down, met Sarah’s eyes, and said, “Incredible.”
Sarah gave a little hoot and came around the Jeep to join her.
“And as penance for missing sign-out last night and the morning briefing,” Sarah said, “I’m assigning you a group for archery this morning.”
“Archery?” Lily actually heard herself squeak. “I know the definition, but not much more than that. I certainly know nothing educational about it.”
Sarah looped an arm around her waist as they walked. “All you have to do is make sure they don’t shoot each other with arrows.”
“I can do that,” Lily said.
At least, she sincerely hoped she could.
* * *
Marty nocked the arrow with a single fletching pointing away from the bow, sighted to the target, drew back until the bowstring was maximally taut, and released. Their arrow hit the edge of the center orange spot at the junction of the next ring out. They’d misjudged the wind and needed to correct for that. They stepped back so the next camper could move up to the shooting line to take their shot.
“You know,” Ford muttered, “that right there? One of the reasons I hate you.”
Marty chuckled. They were getting used to Ford’s peculiar form of friendly banter. “I thought it was because I was just weird.”
“Oh no,” Ford said, “weirdness is not necessarily a negative. But being good at everything? That rises to the seriously not-to-be-tolerated level.”
“I’m not good at everything,” Marty said. “I can’t cook anything that doesn’t come in a foil packet, I’m really crappy at math, and I don’t know how to talk to strangers.” They paused. “Or anyone, really.”
“You’ve been talking to me,” Ford pointed out as the line shuffled forward, those who’d taken their shot moving to the back to rotate through again.
“Only because you started it.”
“No, I didn’t!” Ford said indignantly.
Marty shook their head. “You pretty much did. That night you came outside—when you were looking for Shannon.”
Ford grimaced. “You mean covering her ass with Alisha?”
Marty looked away. They’d noticed Ford and Shannon weren’t tight any longer, and Shannon had even laid off taunting them. “She’s your friend. I get it.”
“No she isn’t.” Ford snorted. “She just likes to have someone around who tells her everything she thinks is great. I didn’t measure up.”
“Because you disagreed?” Marty said.
Ford shrugged. “Because I didn’t say yes to everything.” She shrugged again. “You know what? It’s fine. As to your list of things you’re not good at, I don’t see that any of those are lethal failings. Although, if you loosened up a little, you’d probably be better at the social thing.”
“Loosen up?”
“Yeah. You’re pretty funny and you have opinions about stuff, but nobody knows that. Put it out there more.”
Marty looked away.
“What, which part of that freaked you out?”
Marty sighed. “The more visible you are, the bigger a target you make.”
Ford snorted. “Okay, that’s one of those things your dad taught you, right?”
Marty stared. “What’re you talking about?”
“Some of the things you say make you sound like a recruiting poster.” She tilted her head. “You know, you’d look pretty good on one.”
“Cut it out,” Marty hissed. “And what do you mean about my dad?”
“Look, he sounds like a terrific guy and a great dad, but he’s a soldier, Marty. You’re not. Maybe all his rules don’t really apply to you.”
“Maybe you’ve never been a target.”
“Maybe you’re making assumptions. You think having a father like mine doesn’t draw attention from crazies?”
Marty frowned. Their dad was a hero, and not just because they loved him. But he also taught them to consider all sides of a situation before settling on a course of action. And that meant gathering intel. “What do you mean?”
“Hey, I know he’s not popular with a lot of people. Fuck, I don’t agree with most of what he says. And sometimes…” Ford looked around as if to check that no one was paying them any attention. “I get weirdos showing up on my social media, making gross comments mostly, but sometimes they make threats. Happens to my father in real life sometimes. Doesn’t mean anything,” she added quickly. “Mostly. But it’s…it can be scary, and then I’m stuck with security following me everywhere.”
“Oh man, that really sucks. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I just mean, most of us get attention we don’t want sometimes. I’m sorry that you do.”
“I’m sorry you do too.”
“You’re still weird, though.”
Marty laughed. “Yeah, I know. You’re up.”
Ford made a creditable attempt at following the steps Alisha had shown them, and she hit the target, but way outside the rings. She shook her head. “Why do I need to do this?”
“You never know when you might be stranded in the forest and have to eat squirrels,” Marty said.
Ford gave them an incredibly disgusted look. “That is gross.”
Marty smiled, walked to the line, nocked their arrow, made a mental correction for the wind, pulled across their chest while sighting the target, and gently released. Bull’s-eye.
Better.
They walked to the back of the line, and one of the girls they recognized from cabin seven came over to them.
“You’re a really good shot,” the girl said. “I’m Suwallia, by the way. Do you compete?”
“Um, no.” Marty hesitated, then held out their hand. “I’m Marty.”
Suwallia, her dark eyes filled with humor, shook their hand. “Yeah, I know. We go to the same high school.”
“We do?” Marty caught Ford, who stood behind Suwallia, rolling her eyes, and blushed. What? What had they done wrong already?
“I’m in the year behind yours.”
“Oh. Okay.” Marty took a breath. “That’s great.”
Suwallia glanced at Ford hesitantly, then back to Marty. “Listen, we have archery team tryouts right after the school year starts. You should come try out. You’d make it for sure.”
“I…I’m not really much into sports.”
Suwallia arched a brow. “This isn’t like that. We shoot as a team, sure. But you’re competing individually too. I’m team captain. You should come. Really.”
“Yeah, okay. Yeah. Thanks.”
“Good. I hope the rest of your summer is fun.” Suwallia waved and went back to her line.
Ford chuckled. “Ha. She’s cute.”
Marty stared. “What?”
Ford leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Ace doesn’t mean no romance, does it?”
“I guess sometimes it does, but I…I don’t know about me. For sure.”
“So there you go. Be sure you make it to the team tryouts.” Ford laughed again, and Marty shot a glance over to the adjacent line as everyone jostled forward. Suwallia turned, saw them, and smiled.
Maybe you just haven’t found your team yet, Marty.
Their dad was a soldier, and maybe all his rules didn’t apply to them all the time, but he still got an awful lot right. Archery. Yeah. They could do that.