Page 39 of The Trope

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Maggie’s heart clattered against her ribcage. “No,” she said, the refusal automatic. “Not yet.”

Dean smiled.

“Okay,” he said, and picked up his fork to finish the rest of his meal.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Thecarcurvedaroundanother bend in the road, and Maggie was again grateful that Dean had offered to drive. He’d asked to plan the entire date, and so far he was being secretive about the details. He’d told her to dress in comfortable clothes and to be prepared for a day-long hike, so Maggie was wearing the purple running pants Audrey had picked out a few weeks back and the strappy sports bra she’d caved and gone back for. It was much easier to get on and off than she’d assumed. She looked every bit the part of the athletic girlfriend.

They were climbing in elevation, the typical leafy trees and green lawns of the residential neighborhoods giving way to open meadows and towering pine trees. The fresh scent of the mountains filled the car. It reminded her of Christmas morning: cedar, and pine, and crisp, clean air. Maggie wanted to roll down the window and stick her head out of the car to enjoy it. Unable to resist the urge any longer, Maggie tapped her window button and shivered as the air rushed into the car and over her heated skin. Dean glanced at her and grinned.

“I knew you’d get cold.” He reached into the backseat to grab a big gray sweatshirt. He took another turn with an easy hand draped over the steering wheel.

Instead of pulling the layer on, Maggie cuddled underneath it like a blanket, her nose tipped up to the fresh breeze.

“I know you aren’t the biggest fan of hiking and running, but I wanted you to see this place, and after our run the other day I thought you might be open to it,” Dean said.

Maggie’s pulse skittered at the unknown, but she smiled at Dean. Apparently, she was a brilliant actress because she must have sold herself on that run. Either that, or Dean had mistaken her joy at spending time with him for the enjoyment of physical activity. Damn.

It was their last weekend of their fake relationship, and Maggie had hoped to plan something epic and wonderful. Something to set the tone so that Dean would fall to his knees and wrap his arms around her waist and confess that he loved her just as much as she loved him. Without knowing Dean’s plans, she couldn’t set things in motion. She’d just have to trust things would fall into place. A month ago, that lack of control would have terrified Maggie, but now she was just excited to spend a day with Dean, no matter how it ended. Strange how that had changed over the last few weeks. Especially since her love for Audrey’s brother hadn’t diminished at all.

Dean pulled his car into a dirt lot set in front of a long wooden cabin with a bright red door. The sign out front said “Wayfinder Inn & Restaurant.” She looked out her open window at the trailhead glinting back at her.

“I knew you’d like this trail,” Dean said, stepping out of the car and pulling a giant backpack out of the trunk. “It’s long, but it’s worth it.”

“I’m not much of a hiker,” Maggie said as Dean plunked a baseball hat on her head. She took it off to look at the logo and laughed when she saw their old high school mascot staring back at her.

“It’s about seven miles to do the loop.” Dean slid a matching hat onto his own head. “But less than a thousand feet of elevation gain.” At Maggie’s confused expression, he said, “It’ll take us about four hours, depending on how fast we move and how many stops we make. I figured we’d come back and grab lunch at the restaurant before we head back, but we can turn back at any point.”

“Let’s do it,” Maggie said and smiled up at Dean. She didn’t want to admit it, but with the fresh air, the towering trees, and the quaint inn, she was actually excited about this.

Dean grinned as he shouldered the backpack. “I have water, snacks, rain gear, and some other stuff in here. Just let me know if you need anything.”

They walked to the trailhead, and Dean used his phone to snap a photo of the map, then slid it back into his pocket and gestured ahead of him down the dirt trail. The path was neatly tended and wide enough that they could walk side by side. Trees lined each side of the trail, reaching long boughs up to the azure sky, and the sun filtered through their branches and down over them as they walked, stepping over the occasional rock or tree root.

The trail sloped upward at a manageable incline. After the first twenty minutes, sweat pooled in the small of Maggie’s back and she stopped to strip Dean’s sweatshirt over her head. He offered to roll it into the backpack, but Maggie declined, wrapping it around her waist. When the trail narrowed, Dean took the lead. He turned back and gave Maggie his hand as they navigated over a boulder blocking the path. Maggie paused on top of the large rock to tilt her head up to the sun, raising her arms overhead.

“You look like a goddess standing there.” Dean’s smile was wide and warm. “All kickass and golden in the sunlight.”

Dean looked golden in the sunlight, too.

“I like it out here,” she said, surprised to find that it was true.

She liked the smell of the trees, and the kiss of the air, and the crunch of the pine needles under her feet. Being short only bothered Maggie when people commented on her size, but she didn’t mind how tiny she was under the shadow of the reaching pines or next to the rock formations bracketing the trail. There was something freeing about knowing she was such a small part of her surroundings. That she could do or say almost anything while she was up here, and it wouldn’t matter.

“I do too.” Dean said, giving her his hand to help her off the boulder. “I feel so powerful out here. Like everything I do is an important part of life and the mountain. You know?”

Maggie started to nod in agreement but stopped herself. “Actually, I feel the opposite. It’s a relief to not have to worry about every little thing I do. Maybe I should be worried about falling off a cliff, or encountering a mountain lion, but honestly, I just feel so peaceful out here. My mind is usually a mess of nerves and self-doubt.” Maggie shoved her shoulder against Dean when he didn’t refute her statement. He laughed and slung his arm over her shoulder. “Out here, some of that has gone quiet.”

She tilted her face up to look into Dean’s and her heart stuttered at the affection in his eyes.

“This may be the first time you’ve ever disagreed with me, Babs.” His smile was thoughtful and small, but no less real. “I like that.”

“I like you,” Maggie said and started back down the path.

They continued along the trail, this time Maggie leading the way. A chittering squirrel followed them for another half hour, scolding them as they stopped to talk back to it. During one of their breaks, Dean produced a water bottle from the backpack. He took a healthy swig and handed it to Maggie. She pressed the bottle to her lips and let the cool water coat her throat. It occurred to her, the second time they passed the bottle between them, that her mouth was covering the same piece of plastic that Dean’s had. She smiled as she took another drink.

The trees thinned out as they rounded another bend in the trail, and an expanse of tall grass greeted them. The trail cut through the center of the meadow like a snake, winding in and around the yellowing tufts of plants and the vibrant clusters of wildflowers. To their right, the meadow rolled into a birch forest. Thick with green, rustling leaves. To their left, the ground dropped off into a steep decline. Out over the chasm, distant peaks rose towards the sky. Snow still capped the summits and Maggie tried to commit the scene to memory.


Tags: Stella Stevenson Romance