Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We’re here.”
“Another princess reference?” Heather stretched and rubbed at her eyes before looking out the window. Her brows creased. “Where are we?”
Seth hadn’t been sure how Heather would react to his chosen date spot, but he suspected she might be less than crazy about it. “Indylwood Camp in the San Gabriel Mountains,” he said, watching her closely. “We’re just below Mount Wilson.”
“I’m sorry, but that means pretty much nothing to me.”
“Not a camper? Why doesn’t this surprise me?” He opened the door and climbed out of the truck, then walked around to Heather’s door to help her down.
“Holy shit, Seth!” she exclaimed as she surveyed the campsite. He hadn’t really done much—he’d pitched a tent, set up a hammock, put out camp furniture, and brought a large grill, which he’d left chained to a tree.
Her smile told him the work was worth it. “And I was complaining about being up early on our day off. What time did you have to get up to do all this?”
Seth shrugged. “Early.”
“I have to say, tool boy, you give good paparazzi-free date.” Her eyes scanned the tent again. “I, uh, can’t sleep here. I have to be on set by seven a.m.”
If he wasn’t mistaken, there was disappointment in her voice. Hell if he didn’t feel that way too. What sort of heaven would that be—spending all night in the outdoors with the woman that he…with Heather? It would be paradise.
But all night wasn’t in the plans, not this time. “The tent isn’t for sleeping.”
Her mouth curled up into a sly grin. “Then what’s it for?”
“What do you think?”
She blushed and he thought he might have to forgo grilling the chicken he’d brought and devour her instead. Her cheeks, her lips, so luscious and pink. She looked delicious.
He tore his eyes from her and unloaded the cooler from the back of the truck. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. Come. Sit.” He led her to a reclining camp chair that had a footrest. It was a little cushy for his version of camping, but he’d bought it for her. Hopefully it would have more than a one-time use.
After she was comfortable, the sun to her back and a wine cooler in her hand, he started up the grill. He could feel her eyes on him as he worked. Her eyes were on him when around them Mother Nature displayed awe-inspiring beauty in a mixture of dark and light green foliage and a vibrant blue sky.
Maybe she didn’t appreciate the outdoors like he did, but she wasn’t bitching. And could he really complain if she was more interested in watching him? Wasn’t he more interested in gazing at her?
“You cook?” She sounded impressed.
“I grill.” From the cooler, he pulled out the chicken breast he’d marinated overnight. “That’s about the extent of my cooking skills.”
“Well, nobody’s perfect.”
“Except you.”
Her grin was intoxicating. “Right. Except me.”
They spent the next forty minutes in easy conversation as Seth grilled chicken and vegetables and sliced strawberries. The site didn’t have a picnic table—the weather worn wood seats sucked shit as far as comfort anyway—so they sat at his camp table and enjoyed the meal.
“It’s good to see you eat.”
“I eat,” Heather exclaimed around a mouthful of food.
“Whatever. You’re skin and bones. And br**sts.” Beautiful full round br**sts that pressed tightly against her low-cut tank top. He was having those for dessert.
“Glad you noticed.” As if anyone couldn’t.
She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin and sat back in her chair, her hands on her belly.
Now, he told himself. Tell her now. It was the perfect opportunity—the conversation had lulled, they’d been fed, they were comfortable.
But she broke the silence before he did. “So why here?”
“The mountains? I love the mountains. It’s home away from home.”
“I can see why. It’s peaceful. That’s hard to find these days.” He watched as she took in her surroundings, delighted that he was the cause of her relaxed features. “And why this campground? Indylwood Trail, was it? Is it special?”
He took a swallow of his beer and stretched a leg out to tangle with hers. “That it is. First, it’s not used much for camping. We’ll see some hikers go by, but this camp spot is far enough away that I figured we’d get the privacy we were looking for.” And they had gotten privacy, not seeing anyone since they’d arrived.
“And why else?”
He raised a questioning brow.
“You said ‘first’ which implies there are other reasons.”
“There is. One other reason, anyway.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, then pulled her into his lap. With his face pressed next to hers and his arms wrapped around her, he pointed in the distance. “See that tree line over there? It borders private land—some of the only private land you can find up here since the National Forest owns most of it. I’d love to buy a piece of it someday, build a cabin that overlooks the river.”
“Why don’t you do it?” He felt her wince after she said it, probably realizing that a lead carpenter didn’t make that kind of money.
But I’m not really a carpenter, I’m a Production Designer. He imagined himself saying it, telling her at that moment, the words on the tip of his tongue. He’d tell her that money wasn’t the issue.
Except when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
He chickened out and instead focused on her question—why didn’t he buy the land? He’d dreamed and planned building on Mount Wilson for years. More than once, he’d gathered the money and the papers he needed to make the purchase, but he always stopped before going through with the deal. It wasn’t that he doubted the decision, though owning a cabin in the San Gabriel Mountains was a definite risk. Fires spread easily through the area and finding someone willing to insure any buildings was near impossible.
That wasn’t what made Seth hesitate. If his cabin burned down, he’d just rebuild it. It would be awful, but not devastating. No, the thing that halted him every time was the dream was missing a crucial element—a companion. That was why the closest he’d ever come to buying the land was when he was with Erica. Then, after she left… He didn’t want to build a cabin only to spend time alone in the beautiful mountains. What was the point? He wanted someone who would want to stay there with him, who would have input on his design, where the bathrooms should go and how big the closets needed to be. He wanted to sit on his own back porch with a woman he loved and look out over the grounds while their children played hide and seek in the forest brush. Without the woman, the dream was meaningless.