Page 69 of Blue Line

I pull out of his hold and start walking again, Wes at my side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”

“Don’t apologize. You can talk to me whenever you want, about whatever you want. I’m happy to listen.”

I bob my head, at a loss for words. Instead, I focus on the scene around us. I pause, taking my camera out of the bag, and snap a few photos before we continue down the trail.

“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” I say.

“I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Yeah?”

He bobs his head. “Yeah. Maybe one day, when I have a house and a family. I’d feel bad leaving it with a dog walker or at a kennel while I travel, which is why I haven’t gotten one yet.”

“Makes sense.”

“How do you feel about dogs?”

I shift my camera bag to my other shoulder. “I like them, but they’re a lot of work. A huge commitment. Not something I ever considered getting, honestly. Becca has a cat, and that seems much more manageable. You don’t have to walk a cat.”

“I can see the appeal, but I’m not much of a cat person. Don’t tell Peaches. She loves me.”

I giggle. “I promise I won’t.”

The one-mile trail takes us way longer than I’m sure he expected it to because I spend the rest of the hike pausing to take pictures of the scenery around us. But Wes doesn’t complain. He even suggests a few spots to stop and take photos that I would have missed. Since it’s midsummer and hot as hell, there isn’t much wildlife, but I do get shots of a couple of lizards, a butterfly, and a bird that neither of us can identify.

“Ready for food?” he asks when we make it back to the parking lot.

“Yes.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and heads over to his Jeep. I wait patiently while he gets everything out.

“Come on.”

He shifts the bag holding our food to his other side, tucks the blanket under the same arm, and grabs my hand. I let him lead me toward the massive grassy area past where we turned onto the trail. He finally settles on a spot under a big oak tree and spreads the blanket on the grass.

“It’s so quiet and relaxing,” I comment as he unpacks our lunch.

“It is today. Probably because of the time of year.” He hands me a sandwich and a bottle of water. “Hope you like ham and cheese.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He chuckles.

“I brought pickles, lettuce, onions, mustard, and a few other random sandwich toppings. Wasn’t sure what you would want.” He gestures toward the lunch box.

“Pickles, onions, and mustard, please.” He passes me a couple of Tupperware containers and a few mustard packets.

“Thanks.”

We’re silent as we fix our sandwiches.

“This was a lot of fun. Thank you for taking me here, and for lunch.” I lean over and kiss him gently before drawing back.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

When we’re done eating a little while later, he asks, “Want to go for another hike or go home?”

“Home. I’m tired from the heat.”