Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 80(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t take that bet.” I wasn’t entirely sure whether he meant ice skating or dating, but either way, my hopelessness would be no match for Tate’s enthusiasm.
“Ha. I’m a good teacher.” He paused by the truck to give me a pointed look that made heat zoom to all sorts of under-used locations. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t that far off either. However, even I, the walking dating disaster, could hear the flirt in Tate’s voice and see the heat in his eyes.
“I’m sure,” I mumbled, knowing full well I was blushing yet again. My thoughts shifted from whether Tate was flirting to why. Was this all simply part of helping me out post-injury? Was anyone truly that helpful? Or was there something else at work here, something born in that long-ago friendship? My pulse galloped like someone had cranked the carousel downtown to high speed.
“You look warm,” Tate said as we climbed into the truck. “I better turn the heater down before you overheat.”
“Thanks.” Spontaneous combustion was indeed a distinct possibility, but not for the reasons Tate assumed. I adjusted my coat before buckling my seatbelt. I half expected him to head downtown, where most of Mount Hope’s non-chain restaurants were located. Instead, he pointed the truck toward the rural road leading out of town, where scant few houses and orchards gave way to Christmas tree farms before the landscape shifted into what seemed like endless state-owned forests.
I wasn’t as familiar with this part of the Mount Hope outskirts. My parents had lived on the eastern edge of town, where there were fewer orchards and more derelict mobile homes and acres of invasive blackberry vines taking over flood plains for the area’s many rivers and streams. Thus, I didn’t guess our destination until Tate pulled into a deserted parking lot for a state park trailhead.
“We’re climbing Promise Point?” My voice went up a few notches. The weather was clear but decidedly nippy. And dark. Very dark, with only the truck headlights to cut through the forest. “At night?”
“Relax. It’s an easy walk, and I brought a flashlight.” Tate parked with his usual confidence. And he was likely right. A few solar lights dotted the parking area, so it wasn’t as pitch black as it had first seemed. I hadn’t done the trail myself, but it was popular with tourists to the Gorge. Rather than miles and miles long, most of the trail’s difficulty was in the steep steps up the rocky butte to the vantage point at the top. If we weren’t each already sporting injuries, I might be less apprehensive. Tate patted my leg, pitching his voice more soothing. “Trust me. The view of the town is more than worth the steps.”
Tate was, as always, right. Most of the area’s snow was in the upper elevations and surrounding mountains, but the steps were still slick, making for a slow climb. He’d come prepared, though, in sturdy hiking boots and with a high-powered flashlight for each of us. More than once, Tate had to steady me, not that I was going to complain about his hands on me. And after we made it to the top of the incline, I certainly wasn’t going to complain about the spectacular view of downtown Mount Hope twinkling beneath us.
“I’ve never been up here.” I gazed around in wonderment. The flat circular area was ringed by a low stone wall, and a few scattered rustic benches added to the sense of a hidden oasis. We were a scant fifteen minutes from downtown yet a world away.
“I figured as much.” Tate dusted the leaves off one of the nearby benches before gesturing for me to sit with him. The stone was dry but freezing, and I shivered. “Here.”
Tate put an arm around me, pulling me in against him as naturally as if he’d been doing it for years. His cast was a heavy weight on my shoulder that strangely reassured me. This wasn’t just anyone I was alone up here with. It was Tate. TNT. Nothing bad had ever happened with him along for the ride, and all week, I’d felt buoyant, blessed to have found him again in the ER of all places.
“I like this,” I whispered.
“Me too,” he whispered back with a little chuckle. “After dark, when the weather is warmer, this is mainly a teen and amateur photographer hangout, which is a shame because more people should know what a cool night view this is.”
“It really is.” I sat quietly, trying to take in all the glittering details of the valley below us. I also breathed deeply, absorbing Tate’s nearness and warmth, his woodsy scent and soft exhales. The view wasn’t the only thing worth memorizing.
“I forgot how pretty Mount Hope is,” I said softly after a while. “Forgot how much I liked it here. But now I’m so glad I saw that job announcement.”