Preview of Wild at Heart by Stacy Gold
Preview of Wild at Heart by Stacy Gold
Chapter 1
JULES
“I’m so jealous, Jules.” Bryn perched on the end of one of the beds in our hotel room at Cascade Locks, watching me pack gear. The thin, gray light of pre-dawn filtered through a crack in gold curtains that’d seen better days.
I tucked a bag of snacks and my rain jacket into the top of my backpack, cinched the drawcord, and buckled the lid with a solid click. “Of what, twelve guys dumping me for their exes in a row? I’m sure we could arrange that for you too. If you ever really start dating again.”
“Ha. Funny.” She toed my calf. “You’re taking five weeks off to go backpacking solo. Who cares why?”
Tingles of excitement zoomed around in my chest and I flashed her a grin. “Yeah. Dealing with zero assholes and zero clients for more than a month does sound pretty heavenly, doesn’t it?”
She grinned back. “Like I said, totally jealous. At least of your trip.” Her expression went serious. “I still can’t believe the next guy you date is gonna be unlucky number thirteen, though.”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about that. Probably too much. Definitely enough to jinx the next one for sure. So, I’m swearing off men for at least a year to restart the count.” I hesitated, the excitement buzz fading. “A year is enough time to consider it a clean dating slate, right?”
“Wait. You mean you’re swearing off dating, or swearing off sex too?”
“Yes. Both. All of it.” The last eight years had been nothing but suckage on the relationship front. It’d probably take more than a year to fix my shit. But nothing would change if I didn’t change something.
Bryn eyes widened. “You’re serious.”
“Dead.” Bending, I tugged the rough nylon laces of my left boot. The well-worn leather snugged around my foot. “I’m never gonna figure out anything buried in too much work plus too many bad dates.”
“When did you decide this?”
“Last night.” I shouldered my pack and adjusted the straps until the familiar weight settled on the tops of my hipbones. “What I’ve been doing isn’t working. It’s time to take a big step back and focus on myself for longer than just a few weeks.”
“I guess that’s one way to break the pattern.” Bryn opened the door and we stepped outside into early morning stillness. “And yes, a year is definitely long enough to clean your dating slate.”
Fog tendrils drifted from the Columbia River across the half-empty parking lot. The air hung thick with moisture and cedar and the sweet mustiness of damp soil. The best smell in the world after too many days breathing city fumes.
“I sure as hell hope so. If not, at least maybe I can figure out what to do about my business. I can’t keep working this much.”
We strolled across the lot side-by-side, the chill air nipping my skin through my nylon hiking pants and shirt, waking me up. The sky glowed marigold behind the inky silhouettes of the mountains.
“You’ll come up with a plan. You always do.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” We crossed the empty highway, walked a few hundred yards and turned off. Gravel crunched under our soles. “And thanks for driving me down here from Seattle. And picking me up at the other end.”
“Of course. That’s what best friends are for.” She wrapped a hand around my arm and leaned in, hugging one of my few body parts not covered by my backpack. “Though I still wish I was going with you. I could use a break from assholes and clients, too.”
The first golden rays of sunlight slanted through the tree branches, lighting the dirt road ahead. “We’ll have to plan a girlfriends’ trip once I get back.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Her warm hand tightened on my biceps. “Maybe we can convince Aly to come with us for once.”
I snorted. “We’ll get Aly on a backpacking trip when pigs fly. But I’m all for trying.”
A handful of parked cars and a dark brown trailhead kiosk appeared, marking the southern end of the Pacific Crest Trail through Washington. And my starting point. And the start of five weeks of solitary bliss in one of my favorite places in the whole world.
Bryn pulled out her phone. “Hey. Let me grab a shot of you in front of the sign, to commemorate the moment.”
“Okay.” I took a few steps back.
“Say, single life.”
I popped a hip and smiled for the camera. “Single life.”
“Perfect.” She slipped her phone into her pocket. “I love you, girlfriend. Stay safe out there and call me whenever you hit civilization.”
“I will.” My throat tightened. “I love you, too.”
I was totally looking forward to hiking solo. To enjoying time alone and figuring out my craptacular situation with no distractions. But, for a second, I couldn’t help wondering if I should’ve taken Bryn up on her offer to hike this first section with me.
Deep down I knew it would be a distraction, though. I needed alone time, in the woods, to find my center and do a serious assessment of my life. Especially my love life. Because I kept picking the same kind of winner, over and over, and I was done losing.
“See you in a couple weeks.” With a wave, I pivoted on my heel and stepped into the emerald glow of the Pacific Northwest rainforest. Happy with my choices. And looking forward to not having to do anything, at any set time, for anyone other than me.
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831 Words
My eyes snapped open for no apparent reason. I held my breath, listening through the rain drumming my tent.
A man’s voice rang out from feet away, the tone somewhere between exasperated and hopeless. “Seriously?”
Nylon rustled and shifted outside my tent, loud even through the rain.
I exhaled. What kind of dumbass tries to set up a tent in the dark, in this weather?
A branch snapped. “Fucking goddammit!” This time his voice hit a note somewhere between pissed and despondent. Nylon crackled and shushed.
Snuggling in deeper, I covered my head with my bag to block out the noise of my new neighbor. The rain’s tapping lulled me. My eyelids drooped like they had weights attached and—
“Sonofabitch.”
I flipped over and stared up at the night-dark ceiling, listening to continued cursing, crinkling, and crumpling. The guy wasn’t setting up his tent, he was in a full-fledged, mixed martial arts fight with it.
“Fuck. Me.” Scrabbling for my headlamp, I unzipped my tent and aimed the beam across the small clearing. Raindrops formed silver lines, obscuring my view.
My light caught a bit of reflective material. And a bare leg. And what looked like a pile of fabric thrown over a boulder but had to be a rainfly tossed over the asshole who woke me up.
“Um, helloooo. What the fuck are you doing out there?” My breath hung like a ghost in the beam of light.
“Oh, nothing. Just trying to get some shut eye. Except my tent just broke, it’s pouring rain, and I’m soaking wet.”
“And why, exactly are you setting up in the middle of the night in a rainstorm?”
“Because I need somewhere dry to sleep.”
Fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have asked.
“Don’t you have rain pants?”
“If I had rain pants, don’t you think I’d be wearing them?” The pile of nylon shifted and settled, and the bare leg disappeared.
“You’re going to go hypothermic dressed like that.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” The rain pounded down. “Are you going to turn off that light, or what? I am trying to get some sleep over here.”
“Sure thing.” I clicked off my headlamp and sat in the dry comfort of my tent, staring out into the dark, wet night.
The chances of my random neighbor getting any shuteye out there were pretty much nil. Ditto the chances of me sleeping through the night with his periodic shifting and cussing.
The chances of him getting hypothermia dressed like that in forty-five-degree rain, on the other hand, were pretty damn high.
I clicked on my headlamp. “Aren’t you freezing?”
“Pretty much.”
Something told me I would regret my next words. But I didn’t want his death on my conscience. “You can’t stay out there all night like that. My tent isn’t big, but I can make room for you. If you want.”
“God, yes. Thank you.” He flung off the rainfly and trotted over. Rainwater splashed under his running shoe-clad feet and clung to his bare shins.
Face obscured by a ratty beard and his hood pulled low over his nose, rando dude dove for the entrance to my tent.
“Hey. Hey. Slow down.” I held up a palm. “Take off that jacket and your muddy-ass shoes and leave ’em in the vestibule. Otherwise it’s going to be as wet and nasty in here as it is out there.”
“Okay. Okay.” He stomped and shivered, slipped off his rain shell, and sat in the entrance unlacing his shoes with shaking, wrinkled fingers. Water pooled on the tent floor around his ass.
“Shit. You’re soaked. Take off everything before you get all the way in here.”
He glanced over a shoulder, and a pair of deep blue eyes gazed into mine. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me, are you?”
A zing of electricity shot through my chest and settled at the apex of my thighs. For no good God damn reason.
“I’m trying to keep you from dying out there. So, hurry up.” I snagged my pack towel, wiping up the puddle inching toward the foot of my sleeping bag.
He hesitated, teeth chattering. The musty smell of damp wool filled the tiny space.
“I promise I won’t make fun of your tiny peen, if that’s what you’re worried about. We can chalk it up to shrinkage.”
“No. I’m wondering how we’re both going to fit in here.”
“You’re not that big.”
“You don’t know that.” The corner of his ashen lips quirked, but he peeled off his shirt and reached for his waistband. He lifted his hips off the floor, the muscles in his back rolling and flexing. And just like that, a naked, quaking stranger filled my tent.
If I didn’t get this guy warm soon, I’d have a bigger problem on my hands. I scooched to the side and opened my bag. The damp nylon wall pressed against my back. I shivered. “Zip up the door and climb in.”
Preview of Wild at Heart by Stacy Gold
