Grady slammed his car door, another wave of reservations threatening to shatter the façade he’d nailed into place before picking up Micah. He had to be crazy to bring him here. To take him into the woods when Micah got lost in a place where he worked every damn day.
And would that be any different than getting lost in a place he didn’t know?
He bounced on his toes and inhaled the early-morning air. New growth and dampness threaded in to center him. The sun would warm away the bite in the air before long, but right now it was brisk and fresh. This was his comfort zone even if it was far from Micah’s. The guy had to be insane to put his trust in Grady. Look what happened to the last two guys who’d done that.
Fuck. No. Not today.
He could handle a simple hike. It wasn’t like he was shoving off on a trip down a series of Class V rapids. It was a walk in the woods. Benign really.
He shot a grin across the roof at Micah and popped the rear hatch to grab their gear, confidence displayed if not felt. “I have a cooler with extra water bottles if you need some.”
“I’m good, thanks.” Micah tossed his fleece in the back of the battered SUV and hitched his backpack over his shoulders. “I packed enough.”
A ray of sun shot through the branches to dance over Micah’s unshaven jaw. He could imagine how rough that stubble would be over his own. Man and wilderness and raw.
And that was not what they were here for.
“Snacks?” Grady pointed at the reusable grocery bag of protein bars and nuts, studiously focusing on the task.
“Check.”
“Sunblock?” Three different kinds were stashed in a bin, along with aloe gel.
“I’m good.”
He knocked on the stocked medical kit. “First aid?”
Micah threw his head back, laughing. “I’m thinking you have it covered.” His grin was wide, eyes light with mischief. “Along with every possible scenario that could happen on a hike.”
Grady turned away, embarrassment shuffling with pride. “It’s part of my job.” He grabbed his pack and shut the hatch. “So don’t mock me.”
“I’m not.” Micah raised his hands, placating him. “In fact, I’m damn glad you’re prepared. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you.”
Simple words that nailed Grady’s sore spot. He braced for the pain, only it settled into a warm glow instead of a cutting dig. The last people who’d…
What was he doing? Why had he agreed to bring Micah here? What if Micah lost himself and panicked? Would he get dizzy and fall off the trail edge? He should’ve picked a flatter trail, not a mountaintop hike.
And Micah would’ve said something if he didn’t think he could handle this. Grady had to trust that.
He shook off the spiraling doubts, locked up, and headed to the posted trail map. Only a few cars were in the lot, a sign the trail would be quiet. About thirty minutes east of Vancouver, he’d bet this was a popular hike on the weekends.
“So here’s the trail we’re taking.” He ran his finger over the red line beneath the Plexiglas. “Did you print one out?”
Micah pulled a thin bunch of laminated cards out of the side pocket of his cargo shorts. He slipped the rubber band off and shuffled through them until he stopped and flipped one around to show Grady.
“Got it right here.”
Grady’s brows winged up. “Now that’s planning.” He leaned in, the hit of Micah’s woodsy scent better than anything nature provided. “What are the rest of them for?” Each card appeared to be a different map, some worn, others fairly new, all laminated.
A long exhale warmed Grady’s cheek, and he stepped back before he gave in to the urge to kiss him. Something he’d resisted doing since picking Micah up. They weren’t casual like that. Or was it comfortable?
Micah tucked the trail map into the pocket of his flannel shirt, which hung open over a navy T-shirt, and handed another card to Grady. “They’re my backup maps. In case I lose my phone or don’t have cell service.” Which was probable on the trail.
He studied the map showing a portion of Portland’s Eastside, a red line marking the route between two points. He flipped it over to see turn-by-turn directions both to and from Micah’s home to Dane’s. The simple cheat sheet highlighted exactly how limiting Micah’s memory issue was to his life.
Holy…wow. He didn’t know how he’d function with restrictions like that.
He handed it back, ensuring his voice was casual. “What are the others for?”
“They’re all my normal routes.” Micah slipped the rubber band around the stack and stowed them in his pocket, securing the button. “Home and the hospital. Work and the hospital. Home and the grocery store. Public transportation routes.” He shrugged.
So a card for every basic trip he could make in a day. Another wow. “That’s why you needed to know where we were going today and time to prepare.”
Micah ducked his head and a flair of protectiveness sprang to life within Grady. Right behind it came the resolve to never let him know about it. No coddling.
He started for the trailhead, ready to head out before his questions made Micah nervous. Or more nervous than he most likely was. Not that he was showing any nerves. Damn. Maybe Grady was the only one of them questioning the logic of this outing.
“I have cards for getting here and back home too,” Micah said.
That brought him up short. “What?” Hurt by the confession, he struggled to not be offended. “You think I’m going to ditch you on the trail or something? I’m not that big of a dick.”
Micah chuckled. “I know that.”
The reassurance got them moving again, but Grady was still miffed. “Then why?”
“I always make them.”
“Laminated too?”
“Yes.”
The trail was wide enough to walk side by side, and Grady could sense Micah smirking at him. That damn knowing little smile-laugh.
“So it isn’t a lack of faith in me?” And his fear tumbled out in a humiliating rush of insecurity. He turned his head away and increased his stride.
“Hey.” Micah grabbed his hand, forcing him to stop. He stepped into Grady’s space, eyes searching his. “I wouldn’t be here if I had even a single doubt about you. I don’t.” He kissed him hard, a commanding press reinforced by his sudden firm hold on Grady’s nape. That quickly, he pulled back, brows wiggling. “So stop fretting and hike.”
Micah took off up the trail, leaving Grady gaping after him. What the fuck? “I’m not fretting.” He didn’t fret. “Who uses that word anyway?” He trudged after Micah, but slowed to enjoy the very fine sight in front of him.
“Stop staring at my ass.”
Grady chuckled. “But I like the view.”
“I’ve been told it’s better from the top.”
“The view or the position?”
Micah slowed to shoot one of those smirks over his shoulder. “I know the top is a great position.”
“I’m sure it is.” He waited a beat. “For you.”
Micah winked, his chuckle enhancing his arrogance. “I guess that makes us a perfect pair.”
Grady’s laughter echoed through the woods. It was better to laugh it off than acknowledge the pang of longing that twisted in his heart. One he couldn’t let himself feel. He hustled to catch up, smile wide.
“I guess it does…sir.” He tacked on the last as a test more than a joke.
“Shut up.” Micah nudged him with his shoulder. “Or I’ll order you to walk two paces behind me.”
Relief rushed in at Micah’s playful follow-up. Grady arched a brow. “And who will save you when you get lost?”
“I don’t need saving.”
“Neither do I.”
“And I’m no savior.”
“Like I am?”
They eyed each other, the underlying firmness in their tones restated in the terse looks. Somehow, their joking had taken a fast turn into serious.
Grady nodded and rushed ahead when the trail narrowed, pulse beating too fast for the gentle incline. More rules laid down, limits defined in their strange-as-hell…friendship? Relationship? Whatever it was.
It didn’t need to be dissected. Hell, he lived for ambiguity. He’d travel all over the world seeking that freedom. Rushing down rivers most people were afraid to stand beside. Changing outfitters before anyone could pin him down or slap a label on him.
Definition wasn’t required, especially for something that would likely end when Finn woke up—or died.
Shit. He stepped up his pace, needing the stretch in his legs, the burn in his lungs. A quick check showed Micah right behind him, focused on the uneven ground. The dude was in shape and more than able to match Grady fitness-wise.
“Let me know if you need me to slow down.”
Micah glanced up. “Will do.”
Free to go, he took off, one part of his brain logging Micah, the rest shutting down as he lost himself in the strain of his muscles and the solitude of the woods.
“Damn, that’s gorgeous.” And that didn’t come close to defining the view. Micah took a long breath and let the freshness sink into his chest. It’d been so long since he’d tasted freedom like this. It was almost dizzying.
The Columbia River Gorge spread out before them, a vista of rust and gold cliffs bisected by an abundance of green trees. Split down the middle by the dark path of the Columbia River, abrupt rocky shores marked the Oregon bank, while flats of rolling green hills led down to the Washington side.
“Nature usually is,” Grady said, the reverence in his voice somehow humbling.
A breeze picked at the ends of Grady’s hair, dragging strands over his damp forehead before lifting them away. He squinted into the brightness, wrinkles spreading from the corners of his eyes. He’d pushed the pace the entire four miles up to the summit and Micah’s legs thrummed with the burn of a good workout.
The challenge had been exhilarating and unhindered by a hovering concern for his disability—another freedom he rarely got.
“I bet you’ve seen a lot of amazing places.” He took a drink of his water, a dose of envy tightening his throat.
A soft smile played on Grady’s lips, a distance coming into his expression and voice. “Yeah. I have.” He braced his hands on his hips and lifted his chin, eyes closing.
Grady was in his element and it fit him perfectly. Sweat glistened on his skin and darkened his armpits, his entire outfit well worn. Scuffed hiking boots, frayed hems on his cargo shorts, and a faded national park logo on his T-shirt screamed rugged and one-hundred-percent man.
Micah struggled for his next breath, overcome with hunger and want. He’d never been this attracted to anyone. Why this guy?
The answer was irrelevant though. It simply was.
Like his brain and the restrictions on his life.
“Where’s your favorite place?” He wanted to soak up every bit of this burden-free Grady that he could.
“That’s hard.” Grady sucked in a deep breath, lungs filling to expand his chest. “The Grand Canyon reminds me of exactly how small my worries are, while West Virginia is green and rugged and just…is. Then there’s Maine, which is wild yet tranquil.” Grady flashed a stunning smile, joy radiating out in another breath-stealing display. “And that’s just America.”
Micah wished so badly that he could keep him in that happy space. The visuals were so vivid, he had to smile right along with him. “Where all have you traveled?”
He might not be able to go far himself, but he could experience the places vicariously. It was the best he could do after. And no, that wasn’t envy building in his chest, but hell if he could identify it either.
“All over North America during our summer season, then I hit Central and South America for their season. I’ve also done trips in Malaysia and Nepal.”
And Micah had barely left the Pacific Northwest. “Where do you want to go next?”
“Everywhere.” Grady laughed, the bitter edge shredding the happiness. He squeezed his eyes closed, head hanging.
“What?” Micah almost cursed at Grady’s sudden change. He wanted to chase the joy down or do whatever he could to bring it back, even for a moment.
“Who the hell knows if I’ll be able to anymore?”
“Why not?”
Grady inhaled, hands falling to his sides as he looked up. “If I’m found to be at fault, no one will ever hire me as a river guide again.”
“And that’d keep you from traveling?” Micah frowned. Christ, he’d go everywhere—anywhere—if he could get up and leave without a care.
“No. Hell.” Grady scrubbed his face. “Can we not talk about it?”
They could, easily. But…“Why?”
“Because it sucks,” he snarled. “And I’d finally managed to not think about it for longer than the five minutes it takes to come.” Indignation flared with each hard pant.
And there was the guilt-ridden guy Micah recognized so well and wanted to help. He could push, get Grady to talk or vent or whatever it was he needed to do to let go of the pain that was so obviously eating him from the inside out. But it wasn’t his place to get him to do anything.
“Damn,” he mumbled, lowering his eyelids. He couldn’t force the issue, but he could drop the subject and give Grady back a bit of the enjoyment their discussion had swiped away. “I guess I need to work on my skills.”
“What are you talking about?”
He stepped forward, his blatant appraisal sliding over Grady’s sweaty chest and baggy shorts that managed to cup his junk just right. “I can do way better than five minutes.”
Grady’s confused frown deepened before understanding dawned in a burst of wide eyes and a lascivious grin. “I guess you’ll have to prove that to me.”
Bingo. Success lifted his own worries, the temptation to act humming in the small space between them. It heated his flesh and vibrated down his back to nestle against his balls and perk up his dick.
They were on the top of a mountain, alone except for the birds and an occasional squirrel. And the act of sex itself was the one place where communication hadn’t been an issue between them.
Micah cocked a half grin. “I don’t think you’re patient enough.”
His brows rose, nostrils flaring. “I can handle whatever you can give me.”
He gave a slow head shake. “That’s not what I said.”
“Semantics.”
“Not even close.”
“Explain.”
“Figure it out.”
“Asshole.”
Grady was wound tight, hands clenched on his hips, chest out, eyes narrowed over a tense jaw. It’d be so goddamn hot to have that intensity beneath him, struggling yet yielding. Giving while taking. A trait he couldn’t define, yet Grady had in spades.
And this was not the time nor place. Sex outdoors was always a risk, but it multiplied by a thousand for him given his stupid brain blips.
He stepped away from the edge, both literally and figuratively, and went to where they’d dropped their packs. Regret simmered next to the lust he had to dampen.
“We should head back.” He’d been fine so far—knock on wood. The last thing he wanted to do was remind Grady of exactly how messed up he was.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
The snapped words were his only warning before Grady tackled him from behind. He stumbled forward, tripping over his pack before regaining his footing. Grady clamped his arms around Micah’s chest, binding Micah’s arms to his sides. Bent over, Grady’s weight on his back, he tried to twist out of his hold.
“You don’t fucking get to do that.” Angry breaths gusted over his neck, near his ear.
Fucking A. “Do what?”
Grady shoved Micah away, fury lashing out of every pore. “Get all fucking superior and high-handed.” He strode forward, scowl distorting his face. “I am not your damn sub to order around and decide if I earned a fuck or if I’m a good boy who gets to come.”
Micah had no clue where this attack was coming from, but he leaned right in, his patience shot for this repetitive conversation. “It’s late. I have to get back. That’s it. Nothing more. This is only a power play in your head.”
“Right,” he snarled. “So that was just you being an asshole.”
“And this is you being irrational.”
Overreacting and acting out rolled into one. Yet another way to hide his pain and mask the real source of his anger or fear—whatever it was. Micah was clueless because Grady sure as hell wasn’t sharing with him.
But damn, Grady was hot. Fired up and ready to fight—or forget. His eyes dark and blazing, every breath heaving. And fuck if Micah wasn’t rock hard. That quickly, the dangers and risks took a backseat to the wild desire storming to life.
Grady panted out three deep breaths through his nose before he lunged. Micah was ready for him though, the energy steeped in lust and rage and hurt. So much pain Grady refused to acknowledge.
He trapped Grady’s face before he could slam his mouth into his. The impact still hurt, the battle of tongues and dominance blazing. Passion raged instantly, his erection plowing into Grady’s with every almost-violent thrust of hips.
Grady clawed his back, nails digging a trail to his ass before he clamped ahold. He shoved forward, plastering his length to Micah, hips rocking in pace with his.
God help him. Every action was carnal and raw. It matched Micah’s wildest fantasy and sent his pulse skyrocketing. They struggled for control, neither relenting. His lips hurt, his groin was on fire, and he wanted more.
Couldn’t get enough.
He dug a hand between them, frantically searching for snaps and zippers. Grady was on board a second later, both of them fumbling to release their dicks without separating. He gripped Grady’s erection as soon as he had room, jerked his hand up on the next beat. Smooth silk topped by a bead of moisture. Hard as fuck and his to play with.
He caught Grady’s deep groan, and returned it when Grady fisted his dick. A hard stroke, demanding and urgent, repeated quickly. Shitshitshit. His orgasm boiled in his balls and flooded up his spine. The insanity of the moment only heightened the rush. Anyone could walk up the trail, catch them in mid-jerkoff, yet it didn’t stop him.
Mouths still fused, he knocked Grady’s hand out of the way and took both of their cocks in his hand. The dry friction bordered on painful yet was also perfect. He tore his lips from Grady’s, sucking air frantically into his hungry lungs. “Goddamn.” His mumbled moan rushed over Grady’s jaw, the stubble scratching his aching lips.
“Harder,” Grady urged. He spit into his palm, and joined Micah in stroking them off. The dual grip hitched him higher, their pace a mad race to the end. They worked in unison, up and down, a swipe over the sensitive heads, faster, quicker. Maddening, sweet, torturous heaven.
His orgasm tipped on the edge and he willed it back. His chest constricted, breath held as he scraped his teeth up the side of Grady’s neck. Salt, sweat, and man overridden by sex and freedom.
No constraints. No holding back. No walls to lock him in nor a cuff to ground him.
And no stopping.
“Fuck.” Grady arched, head falling back. “I’m there.” He tensed, mouth stretching with his garbled grunt. His face scrunched up, the tendons in his neck strung tight. Hot come spilled over Micah’s fist and down his arm to shatter his will.
His groan broke from the recesses of his chest, heart ripping open with each shudder. His wrist was glaringly empty, but Grady held him tight. He locked onto that, sunk it deep, and seized it close.
His release roared through him and he let go with a wild jump into the unknown, hoping like hell Grady would be there when he landed.