Page 37 of A Vine Mess
“There’s this campground on the edge of the Badlands where I have a site reserved.”
Ella glanced behind her, at the retrofitted back of the van where the single bed folded against one side.
“Are you sure two people can’t fit on that thing?”
“Not unless we want to cuddle,” I said, flicking a glance her way and wiggling my brows. “You offering?”
Ella choked on her tongue in her haste to respond, and Ichuckled at her discomfort. Eventually, she forced out, “No.”
“I was joking anyway. But trust me. Lumberjack Wills can handle himself.” To prove my point, I lifted my free arm and curled my forearm toward my shoulder, my biceps popping up into a mountain of muscle.
It felt good to be acting this way, to drop the moody bastard act and flirt with her the way I’d been dying to for years.
A giggle slipped free from Ella, and she shook her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
I could feel her gaze on the side of my face for a long time before she spoke again. “You’re different than I thought.”
“How so?”
It wasn’t the first time someone told me that, but I was more curious than ever because it washer. Was it a good different? Bad different? Somewhere in the middle?
“You have this really gruff exterior that has everyone in town thinking you’re a serial killer—”
“Well, I hadn’t heardthatparticular rumor,” I grumbled, though I wasn’t entirely surprised. I hadn’t done anything to dispel the notion, after all.
“—but you’re soft underneath.”
I patted my abdomen. “Nothing soft here.”
“I don’t mean physically,” she said with an eye roll, though I didn’t miss the way her eyes dipped to my stomach, could read everything though flashing across those green depths.
She clearly liked what she saw.
And maybe, just maybe, I’d get the chance to show her everything one day.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Then what did you mean?”
“I mean like…emotionally. Personality wise. You’re silly and funny and incredibly kind. You should let more people see that side of you.”
“As long as you know it exists, I don’t care about anyone else.”
I’d done a lotof research before making definitive plans for this trip, and when I ultimately decided I wanted to see the Badlands, I really wanted to immerse myself in the experience. So when I came across this campground tucked among the rock formations, I knew it was the perfect stopping point for this leg of the trip.
Our site was nestled between two towers, the layers varying degrees of grey, beige, and that signature clay color. It felt protected somehow, like no harm would befall us with the rocks standing sentinel at our sides.
I also knew, thanks to my research, that the campground was spread out across a few square miles, the sites mainly situated like this one, with enough separation for privacy but close enough that someone would hopefully come running if you screamed for help.
Once we got settled, Ella and I changed into sturdier shoes and clothes and set off on a winding path through the formations.The land was mostly flat, but both of us were having the time of our lives scrambling up the sides of the towers, perching as high as we could while the other one captured our toothy, carefree smiles in photographs.
Before we headed back—I didn’t want to be caught out there in the dark—we paused for a moment, content to bask in the stillness and quiet.
“This is…breathtaking,” Ella said.
She stood on a narrow patch of grass that had inexplicably sprouted up between the rocks, a hand shielding her eyes as the sun began to dip below the tops of the formations. It set everything in a bright, fiery orange, deepening the color of the clay to a rich red.
But I only had eyes for Ella, her hair pulled back into two French braids, shorter purple locks falling free around her face. She wore a blue athletic top, so dark it was nearly black, and matching leggings with her hiking boots. Her expression was completely relaxed, arm hanging loosely at her side while the other shaded those gorgeous green orbs. I couldn’t resist lifting my phone to take a picture, wanting to remember this moment forever.
