Page 29 of Chosen

“Fine?” I was confused by the question. “We’ve barely walked a hundred feet from the cabin. Aren’t you checking in a little early?”

“It’s better to check in early, actually,” he replied. “If there was a problem with your boots or your gear, I’d rather know when we’re close enough to base for me to do something about it.”

“Close enough to base…,” I murmured after him. “How do you do that?”

“How do I do what?”

“Sound like that,” I continued. “Like you’re a pro on National Geographic.”

“Probably the years and years of outdoor experience,” he answered, with a smirk. “Just a guess that it has something to do with it.”

Damon then reached for my hand, before he went on. “Ready?”

“Ready.” I couldn’t help but smile as I took his hand in mine, our steps in time as we started our way into the woods. It was just as cinematic as it looked in the photos I’d seen online, the sun peeking through the leaves as enchanting as I’d imagined, too. The warmth blowing through the wind only added to the surrealness of the moment, a seemingly perfect temperature against my skin.

It felt unreal.

Like I was in the middle of a simulation, holding hands with the most gorgeous man I’d ever met.

That’s because it is unreal, Sam.

Don’t forget. This is only for a short while.

Reality is right around the corner.

“What’s that?” I distracted myself from my thoughts by pointing up at what looked like a pair of black seats, with a thick rope tying them around the trunk of a tree. I’d never seen anything like it before, and as we moved closer to it, I was filled with even more questions.

“Looks like an old double tree stand,” Damon answered, his free hand now resting against his thigh.

“A double tree stand?”

“Something people use for hunting,” he explained. “People like to set up in these things and then just wait.”

“Just wait? To kill animals?” My stomach dropped. I knew people went hunting in Virginia, but it was never something I wanted any part of. It wasn’t like I was a tree hugger or anything, I just couldn’t stand the thought of seeing an animal hurt like that.

Damon nodded in response to my question, his face turning stoic. “My dad loves to hunt. He used to take me out all the time, but I never really took to it.”

“Really?” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice. “You’re not into hunting? But you seem so… rugged?”

“It’s a principle thing. I’m not against hunting but I would only hunt if absolutely necessary. No other food options available.”

“That’s pretty noble.”

Damon shrugged. “It’s more practical than anything else.”

“Did you… ever…” I started and stopped as I tried to find the question. “What was it like? Being up there with your dad?”

“For him? I’m sure it was very stressful.” Damon chuckled. “For me? I just used it as time to read.”

“Time to read?”

“Hunting can be very, very slow,” he replied. “So slow that I was able to get through all fifteen books of one of my favorite cozy mystery series that way.”

“You? Read cozy mysteries?” My jaw was nearly on the ground.

“Uh, I think pretty much everyone read the Witch, Please series. It practically never left the NYT bestseller’s list.”

“Don’t act like this isn’t huge news!” I playfully swatted at his arm. “So, what? Instead of focusing on hunting with your dad, you were just catching up on your reading? Do you know how incredible that is?”

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