“You did great last night. You even liked it.”
I nod and take a bite of toast.
“Being out in nature is great for inspiration,” he continues. “If I’m stuck on a project, I take a walk. It clears my head, and I’m usually able to figure out the scene.”
“I used to do the same with running.” I sip my coffee. “And then life got crazy. My dad died, and Mom needed me more. I had deadlines. Everything was just a mess. I got out of the habit, and running just didn’t seem terribly important anymore. Sorry, I’m babbling.”
“I like it when you babble,” he says and eats a strawberry. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“Me, too. He was a great person. Funny. He was damn smart, too.”
“And he passed that down to his daughter.”
I feel myself flush. “You give me too much credit.”
“And perhaps you don’t give yourself enough,” he says. “But before we get too philosophical, we should get ready for our hike.”
“You’re really going to make me go.”
He nods as he finishes his coffee. “It’ll be great. Trust me.”
“I must trust you if I’m actually entertaining the idea.” I lift my arms over my head and stretch, letting the linens fall around my hips in hopes that it’ll distract Shawn from this hiking idea.
He reaches out and circles my nipple with his fingertip but doesn’t take it any further. He stands and gathers the tray.
“Come on, let’s get going. The sooner we get started, the sooner we get back.”
I blow out a breath. “Fine.”
He laughs as he leaves me alone in the room. I take my time getting dressed and pulling my dark hair back in a short ponytail. My hair isn’t long. It’s just easier to take care of when it barely hits my shoulders.
When I’m ready for the day, I meet up with Shawn, who’s already outside on the front porch, leaning against a support.
“Ready?” he asks.
“As I’ll ever be. Are we going back up to the bluff?”
“No, we’re going in the opposite direction. There are some great waterfalls just a couple of miles away.”
“A couple of miles?”
“You used to run marathons, Lex. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah, in the city. On concrete. Where I wasn’t going to be killed by a bear.”
“Just a mugger.” He winks at me. “Besides, there are only black bears in Washington, and they don’t eat people. We’ll make noise to warn them we’re there, and they’ll go away. We’re not in grizzly territory.”
He takes my hand, links our fingers, and leads me to another trailhead about fifty yards from the house.
“Look at you, being the hiking guide and everything.”
“I have many talents.”
“Oh, I’m aware.”
That earns me a cocky grin that sends a little zing right through me. I enjoy flirting with Shawn. It’s easy because every compliment is totally true.
The path is windy, like the one yesterday, but this one inclines quickly, which tests my endurance and my heart rate.
I really need to get back to exercising regularly.
It’s a beautiful autumn day, and the trees offer shade from the sun. Birds fly by, and we see a few squirrels, but no other wildlife lurks among the trees.
“Do you go to Ireland very often to see your parents?” I ask, trying to distract myself as we climb and make our way on the path.
“At least once a year,” he says. “Before they moved there, we’d go every few years or so to see family.”
“What part of Ireland are you from?”
“The west coast, a little village about seventy-five kilometers from Galway.”
“The photos I’ve seen of that country are beautiful.”
“And they don’t do it justice,” he replies. “I’ve been all over the globe, Lexi. I had wanderlust when I was younger, and I traveled quite a bit. And I can tell you that Ireland isn’t just a place. It roots itself in your soul, and when you leave, you carry a longing with you that never goes away until you’re there again.”
“You’re not even thirty,” I say in surprise.
“I’ll be thirty in a few weeks. What does that have to do with anything?”
“How have you had time to travel so much and establish a career in screenwriting already?” I can hear water rushing, so we must not be too far from our destination.
“I wrote while I traveled,” he says. “I’ve been back in Washington for well over six years now, but sometimes, I get the urge to go somewhere new. More often than not, I choose to go back to Ireland.”
“Is it because you were born there?”
“Maybe. You’ll have to go sometime and tell me what you think.”
The thought of flying over the Atlantic Ocean gives me hives, so I just nod in agreement. We walk around a bend, and I stop short, staring in awe at the falls in front of us.
“Whoa.”
“I know.” We’re shoulder-to-shoulder, watching as water cascades down the mountain, rushing over rock to a large pool below.