“Is this really necessary?” Polly asked, her arms crossed across her chest. “I already put the yucky worm on the scary hook for you. Do I really have to build a fire too?”
“Of all the skills I’m helping you brush up on today,” Chase said easily, “I’m pretty sure making a decent fire ranks right up there.”
“Can’t I just get a new flamethrower and be done with it?” Polly said with an edge of a whine to her voice, making Chase roll his eyes.
“You always carry one around in your Louis Vuitton bag, do you?”
Polly raised an eyebrow. “You know Louis Vuitton? Are you secretly metrosexual and holding out on telling me you carry a murse?”
Chase snorted. “Do I look like I carry a murse?”
Polly eyed him up and down slowly, her mind turning somersaults at the possibilities of his body. They had spent the better part of the morning hiking down various trails, then stopping for a quick bite to eat before trying their hands at fishing in one of the nearby lakes. Polly had had a few nibbles, but hadn’t actually caught anything. Chase, of course, was a natural at everything – and Polly had to admit, the view of the trail from behind Chase was mighty fine.
Long, strong legs encased in denim, a shirt rolled to the elbows exposing tanned, taut skin, and a carriage that spoke of everyday hard work, rather than a Nautilus machine.
Mighty fine indeed.
She hadn’t even minded the hiking, except for the sweating, and the fishing, except for the slimy worm, or the shotgun shooting practice she had done first thing in the morning – except for the kickback on her shoulder, which still ached slightly.
She was, she had to admit, still a damn good shot for not having held a shotgun in at least fifteen years.
“No, no murse for you,” Polly agreed. “But the fact that you know LV has me a little freaked out.”
“I have a sister, remember?” Chase shot back. “And if I have to watch one more episode of ‘Project Runway’ when I stop in to say hi to my mother, I’m going to hunt down Michael Kors myself and tell him to stick it.”
Polly nodded sagely. “Check. No more Michael Kors, no more murse. But can’t I just carry a flamethrower, like I said?”
“I think you really need to know how to start a fire without any matches or anything,” Chase said. “If for no other reason than because I want to watch you try.”
“Do I look like Bear Grylls and his fucking tinder bundle? Do I look like Survivorman with his flint?” Polly asked, hands on hips.
“Nice young ladies don’t say fuck,” Chase said lazily.
“Well, this one fucking does,” Polly shot back with a sweet smile.
“You can stall all you want, kitten, but we’re not leaving here until you build a fucking fire,” Chase shot back easily, his mouth quirking into a smile. “So you better whip up a tinder bundle and fast, because it’s going to be dark soon.”
**
Sadly, Polly had felt a perverse flush of pleasure when she finally got her fire lit – without a Zippo – and Chase had praised the way she had laid the firewood and her ability to get a spark going with just a few sticks.
So, maybe it was a good skill to have after all, she grudgingly admitted to herself.
Chase had brought out sandwiches and a thermos of coffee for them to share for dinner, and Polly had actually enjoyed the crackle of the fire and the quiet conversation she and Chase had shared, or the silences that were entirely comfortable between them when conversation slowed.
She realized how much she had missed her childhood friend, and just what a funny, sensitive, strangely gentlemanlike man he had become. The Navy had done the world a favor – Chase Colton was definitely a catch.
Which made her whole married-or-not dilemma that much harder to swallow…
Polly was following Chase out of the clearing, having helped him entirely extinguish the fire and determinedly not thinking about her marriage in shambles, when he stopped short and whistled softly for Jack to sit, which the lab did without hesitation.
Slowly, Chase walked backwards a few steps, until he had sidestepped Polly, then was standing directly behind her, hardly making a sound as he moved.
He wrapped an arm gently around her collarbone from behind, pulling her against his warm body. “Look,” he breathed into her ear. “Right over there,” he whispered, tugging her body a few degrees to the left.
Polly bit back a gasp as she saw nine, ten, eleven deer of all sizes gathered together in a small clearing, oblivious to the presence of two humans and a dog mere yards away from them. The wind was blowing away from the animals, obviously masking the presence of Polly, Chase and Jack. They were gathered close together, nipping at leaves and twigs, their movements so serene and silent, flowing almost like a dance.
And with a flash, Polly remembered what it was like to have nature take your breath away – something she had forgotten in her years in California. With this one moment in time, she was suddenly back to being a native Yooper, full of appreciation for all that nature had created.
And not a high rise or highway in sight.
“Wow,” she whispered, and in answer, Chase pressed her a bit closer to him, then released her slightly, his arm still firmed holding her back against his chest. Though she couldn’t see his face, she could practically sense the smile on his face.
She wasn’t sure what was making her heart suddenly beat faster – seeing these normally shy creatures in their natural habitat, or the closeness of Chase holding her in his arms, his skin smelling of pine needles and wood smoke, his breath ruffling the hair near her ear.
Either way, this was truly an enchanted moment, and one she had no intention of spoiling.
And so, for what must have been only minutes but felt like much longer, the three visitors to the woods watched the deer graze in the growing dusk, even as the sun began to fade behind the trees.
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