Page 34 of Rough and Rugged

“I can do that.” I carry him along with me while I clean up my dinner mess and put the leftovers away. In my room, I plug my phone into the charging cable and then prop it up against the base of my lamp. That way, I can still see it without having to hold it in bed with me.

Noah looks like he’s doing his own cleaning up, and I spy on him while he goes about his nighttime routine. It’s fun to get these little peeks into his life. “Noah?” I ask.

He’s in his bedroom now. It’s full of masculine colors and rich woods. “Yeah?” It’s his turn to lay me down on top of a dresser, and I listen to the rustle of his clothes as he changes for the night.

“I had a really good time tonight. And yesterday.”

He picks the phone back up, and I suck in a breath when I see he’s not wearing a shirt. “I did too.” Like me, it looks like he’s settling the phone on the side of the bed, propping it up so he can be hands-free.

When he pulls the sheets back and slides under, my eyes take in the muscles that stretch across his torso and chest. His arms are strong, and there’s a light dusting of hair that makes him look even more outdoorsy than in his lumbersnack picture.

“This might be too fast, and it might freak you out.” Noah settles against his pillow, turning on his side so he can face the camera. “But I really like you. I don’t know if I’ve felt a connection like this with anyone before.”

My heart beats faster, but not because I’m scared. Happiness and hope swirl around inside my heart. “I really like you too.” I shift, pulling the phone closer so I can see him better. “You make it easy to talk to you.”

“Good. If I ever do anything to make you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me.”

I nod, snuggling against my pillow. We murmur words to each other, and before long, I’m nodding off into sleep.

Chapter Six

Noah

Asthelastweekof August slips into the first week of September, my schedule starts to fill up with trips that I booked well over a year ago. Between hunters and wildlife photographers, I’m in high demand for most of Montana’s hunting seasons.

I’m not itching to get out in the field for weeks on end this year like I usually am by this time of summer. Instead, I’m trying to figure out layovers and overnights that have decent cell phone reception and internet service so I can still talk to Alex.

Over the last two weeks, we’ve managed to meet up for two more in-person dates, and we’ve spent almost every night video chatting with each other. Her classes started this week, so she’s busier than ever. I have only one more chance to see her before I leave for a two-week packing trip up in Northern Montana. When I saw the itinerary, I’d died inside a little since it was in one of the most remote areas of the state with almost zero phone service. But this was a pair of clients who’ve been coming to me for years, and they’d specifically requested this location.

I want to do something special for her since I’ll be gone for so long. After some cajoling, I convinced her to let me come by her house and make her dinner. Not that I expect anything to happen, but I don’t want to share her with anyone tonight. It might be greedy and possessive of me, but knowing I won’t be able to see her or hold her for two weeks is driving me a little crazy.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message, and I pick it up, finding a text from my best friend Beckett.

Beckett:Can I say I told you so yet?

He was the first person I know who found his significant other on a dating app, and he’s also the one who convinced me to make my own profile.

Noah:No.

Beckett:Seriously?!

I smile. He’s probably rolling his eyes right now. Alex is all I’ve been talking about for weeks now. It’s hard to believe we only started talking a couple of months ago.

Noah:I mean, you could say it, but the next time I see you I’m going to smack you.

The three little dots bounce around while he types his response.

Beckett:I’ve got a couple of weeks to prepare. Good luck tonight, and stay safe on your trip.

As much as we might hassle each other, we do have everyone else’s best interests at heart.

Noah:Thanks, man. And seriously. Thank you for pushing me to do this.

Beckett:That’s what friends are for.

“Don’t be offended, but I wasn’t expecting you to be that good of a cook.” Alex grins impishly from the opposite side of her little kitchen table.

I can’t resist teasing her back. “And what kind of cook were you expecting me to be?”

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