The landscape on either side of the road grew more lush and green.
We reached the turn-off for the Weston Estate, and Dalton turned onto the road, completely ignoring the multiple posted signs forbidding trespassing.
A chill passed over me, giving me goosebumps as we moved through the shadow of the trees, bumping as trespassers along the narrow dirt road.
We passed a sign that read: You’re not lost. You’re trespassing. Turn around now and go back the way you came.
Dalton found the sign rather amusing, even slowing to snap a photo of it with his phone.
“You got your souvenir photo,” I said. “Now let’s turn around and do something legal. Do you like five-pin bowling? It’s like ten-pin bowling, but not as good. You know, bowling is funny. I think people enjoy the idea of bowling a lot more than actually doing it. Have you ever turned around and looked at all the faces of people in a bowling alley? Except for maybe one table of extremely smashed guys, who could be just as happy in the drunk tank, everyone has this serious look on their faces. And they’re always shaking their head, saying, ‘You got robbed. Robbed. That pin must be glued there. Oh, the humanity.’"
Dalton slammed on the brakes, put the car in reverse, then took a quick left turn, onto what looked like anything but a road.
I squealed and held on tight to the dashboard as the car bounced and rocked over the rutted terrain.
“Your poor car!” I warbled, my voice broken up by the bouncing.
“I suppose my four-wheel-drive truck might have been a better option.”
“You have a truck?”
“For towing the trailer.”
“Of course.” I looked back over my shoulder at the path through which we’d come. If you really looked, you could just barely make out what could be mistaken for a road.
“Almost there,” he said.
“How would you know? This path is completely overgrown. Nobody’s driven this way in months.”
“Easy. I saw the hot spring from the helicopter.”
“How? Was it with one of the Westons?”
“Nope. I don’t know them.”
“Shit! You aren’t friends with the Westons? We really are trespassing?” I’d been hoping he had permission and was just pulling a prank on me.
He turned and gave me a mischievous look. “Trespassing? Hmm. I’m certainly no lawyer, so I couldn’t say exactly what we’re doing. Maybe we’re lost. I don’t see any signs along here telling us otherwise.”
I looked around. He was right about there being no more of the threatening signs. And that probably meant we were heading straight for the hot spring, and the lack of signs was their attempt to thwart trespassers.
Trespassers!
This was exactly the kind of thing my boy cousins would want to do when we were all kids, and me being me, I’d cross my arms and stomp my foot and tell them we weren’t allowed.
Now I was older, and apparently I did things like cowgirl-style sex with a handsome actor, with the lights on.
We bumped along for a few more minutes through the bushes, low-hanging branches whacking the windshield. I worried for the car’s suspension, but it just kept on going.
“Hmm,” Dalton said as we lurched to a stop.
“Did we blow a tire?”
“Don’t be a worry wart.”
“Too late. I am what I am. Dalton, I might have a big mouth and way more attitude than necessary, but I’m not a law breaker. I’m not a trespasser.”
“Bulldoodles.”
I laughed, hard. “Bulldoodles? You crack me up.”
He winked. “Something my mother used to say.”
I stared at his gorgeous profile, wondering for a moment what his parents looked like. They likely had dark hair like him, and surely his father was handsome, but I couldn’t imagine a mother.
“What does your mother look like? You don’t talk about your family much.”
He turned off the engine and opened the car door.
“All shall be revealed once we locate the hot spring.”
I stayed seated in the car. “We should probably turn around and go back to town. I’ll take you to Chloe’s Pie Shack for a Lemon Meringue Mile-High. My treat.”
Standing next to the car, he stretched his perfect arms over his head, then whipped off his shirt. He stretched again, his muscles rippling in the dappled light come through the trees.
Think what you want about your own willpower, but mine is in limited supply, and a good portion is expended daily resisting cupcakes. If you were in my shoes, you’d see why he broke my resolve. When a man that hot and charming ripples for you, you f**king go with him.
I muttered some choice words under my breath as I got out of the car. Dalton Deangelo’s job was to appear shirtless and boost ratings. No sense trying to deny the desires of my flesh. He was like the Pied Piper of modern day, his voice the enchanting music that lured the youth away from the small village, and his flute was… well… sort of flute-shaped, depending on how you looked at it.
Ugh. I needed to stop thinking about his flute, and start using my head. Eyes open, Peaches. Eyes wide open.
When I caught up to him, he slipped one bare arm around my shoulder. My arm went to his waist, and I tucked my hand into the back pocket of his jeans.
“This is nice,” he said, and he kissed my forehead as we kept walking, moving now through a narrow path.
We walked for a while, enjoying the woodsy sounds of birds around us. I was about to suggest we turn around when I noticed a change in the air. Moisture. I checked the sky for signs of rainclouds, but it was all blue showing between the leaves.
We stepped into a clearing dotted with a few boulders. Up ahead, near a rock outcropping, was a plume of steam.
“Holy f**kchops, the hot springs are real,” I said as I ran toward the pool of water. I would have screamed, but we were trespassing, after all.
CHAPTER 19
Dalton raced ahead of me. He pulled off his shoes and jeans, then stood near the edge of the water on the rocks, his socks getting wet. Or, I assume his socks were getting wet. I was looking at his perfect ass, filling out his boxer shorts so nicely.
“Be careful,” I called out. “Check the temperature that it isn’t boiling hot.”
He pulled off his socks, yanked down his boxer shorts, and slapped one of his butt cheeks. “Check this temperature, cutie.” And then he just jumped in.
His na**d body and dark hair disappeared beneath the water line, and I was all alone in the silence. The songbirds in the nearby branches sang their tattle-tale songs. Trespassers! Naughty, na**d trespassers! Playing the meat flute!