Chapter 1

Giant pines lined the highway as I drove away from the city. The beautiful peak of Mount Hood was my compass, guiding my way. The closer I got, the more it loomed over me. It was easy to forget that this majestic wonder was within reach when I got caught up in the daily grind. On clear days, it could easily be seen in Portland. It was close, only a couple of hours away, but far enough to take for granted.

I rolled my window down, breathing in the fresh scent of mountain air. It was instantly transportive. The green of the trees, the shadows they cast over the road, the quiet lack of traffic, and the clean, crisp air. It was refreshing. I felt like I was catching my breath for the first time in a while.

The cityscape disappeared in the mirror behind me. For the next week, I wouldn’t have to answer any phone calls, get stuck in traffic, or deal with noisy neighbors and obnoxious customers. It would be me, the forest, an adventure, and maybe a handful of coworkers to bond with.

It was as close to a paid vacation as we were going to get. When Printech announced they would be doing team-building exercises, there was a collective rolling of eyes from all of us minions. We spent every day together at work, so why was there such a need to do something outside of the office together?

I worked as a receptionist, a job that was often overlooked by most there. They would walk past me with barely a nod. It didn’t matter that I was the welcome committee. The first face people saw when they came in, and the first voice they heard when they called. Before any of the callers got to their destination, I played triage, assessing the needs and urgency and filtering through the sob stories I heard to figure out who they needed to talk to.

To the other departments, I might as well have been one of the plants that brightened up the lobby. Scenery that you got used to until you didn’t notice it anymore.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like my job, I actually loved it, but spending a week outside of work with workpeople wasn’t my idea of a good time. At least it was a week away, though. In the mountains, in nature. I grew up camping, only now it had been years since I’d spent time off the grid. Bills, responsibilities, cost of living, adulting. They prevented me from taking time for myself and doing things I used to love.

I inhaled deeply, letting the pure air cleanse my soul and bring me out of the office and out of the city. The turnoff I needed was coming up. I followed the signs and made my way down a single-lane road. If another driver was going the opposite way, one of us would have to pull to the side. Even still, I’d rather that kind of traffic jam than what I dealt with in the city.

It was a bumpy ride along the pothole-riddled road that ended in a parking lot. Two buildings stood surrounded by the forest. The larger of the two had a crooked sign with a few letters missing. Mt. Ho d Bigfoo M seum. It was about the size of a roadside diner with a large, comical statue out front. The smaller building looked like a shed really, but painted faintly on the front of it was Restrooms.

The place had definitely seen better days, but it brought a smile to my face, nonetheless. I wasn’t a ‘Squatcher’ by any means, but I found the whole Bigfoot thing endearing. As a Portlander, it was something we grew up with. Murals, tours, river cruises, and statues everywhere. We lived in the shadow of the behemoth. How could you not love the mysterious cryptid?

A small group of people gathered in front of the museum with backpacks or duffel bags at their feet. In the parking lot, there was a large capacity van, the kind that sat fifteen people. Behind the van was a truck full of equipment. On the side of both were matching decals that featured a Bigfoot with a walking stick.

I grabbed my bags, steel water bottle, ran through a mental checklist to make sure I had everything I needed, and locked my car. As I approached the group, I scanned faces to see if I recognized anyone from work. No one so far. An older man with a long, grizzly white beard, wearing the same logo that was on the vehicles, walked over to me.

“Hiya. You here for Bigfoot Adventure Camp?”

“Yes, sir. I am. I’m Jesse.”

He grabbed my hand and shook it rapidly. “Nice to meet you, Jesse. My name is Strike. I’ll be your camp guide for this adventure. We’re getting ready to load the truck with everyone’s bags. Then we’ll kick things off with a tour of the museum first before heading deep into Sasquatch territory.”

“Sounds great, thank you.”

Strike left me to greet another newcomer. Glancing around again, I still wasn’t seeing anyone I knew. Maybe I lucked out and everyone picked different activities from the suggested list. Originally, management brought the idea forward with one big event for everyone, but there had been too much griping and complaining about the obstacle course they offered, so they’d created a list of five different activities to choose from. Maybe it wasn’t the best for overall team-building, but it calmed the masses.

Just as I thought I would get to appreciate the corny adventure on my own, I froze in place when he came into view. He came out from behind the truck and flipped his head back, whipping his luscious blond hair out of his eyes. I could swear it was in slow motion with a crescendo of music and birds singing in the background like a Disney prince making his grand entrance, releasing his smolder on the world. Zoom in for the money shot and the gleam of perfect teeth. Ting.

Reed fucking Dawson.

He was the poster boy of Printech. Literally. Reed was the darling of the sales department and was featured in a lot of their promotional videos and, yes, actual posters. He was no Disney prince, though. Unless you counted the ones from Into the Woods; all charm, no sincerity. Of all the people to be stuck in the woods for a week with, why did it have to be him?

Reed looked right past me as he scanned the crowd, likely looking for someone he knew. When his gaze swept back toward me, he tilted his head, as if trying to place my face. Which, yeah, kinda stung a little. His eyes rounded and that smile I saw on the posters at work formed as he jogged over.

Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I straightened, trying to look like I hadn”t been watching his every move.

”Hey, you”re from Printech, right? Um…Jason something?” Reed held out his hand.

My stomach soured, and I was half-tempted to cancel this whole thing. But I needed the time away, the fresh air, tall trees, and a night sky unpolluted by city lights. I wasn”t going to let fucking Reed ruin this.

I shook his hand .”Jesse, actually. Jesse Diaz. I work the front desk.”

Reed flipped that blond wave of hair. ”Jesse, right. Sorry.”

”Alrighty, folks. Looks like we”ve got everyone here. Once you”ve loaded your bags into the truck, we”ll begin with a tour of the Mount Hood Bigfoot Museum. This will help you familiarize yourself with the signs and clues to look for once we”re out in the bush,” Strike called out.

Reed”s eyes darted around once more, before leaning into me with a lowered voice, ”This can”t be everyone, right? Where”s the rest of the Printech staff for this team-building thing?”

I shrugged, trying not to be too weirded out that Reed was talking to me when he normally blew right past me in the lobby. No wonder he didn”t know my name.

”They”re probably all at the pottery-making class.”

Reed grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. He had the most gorgeous blue eyes. I may or may not have spent a lot of time staring at said eyes in 2D, or while watching his sales videos. He looked like he was waiting for me to respond. Was I staring too long? Did he say something?

”I”m sorry, what?” I asked as I shook myself free from the hold his eyes had on me.

”There was an option for a pottery class?” Reed asked.

”Oh, yeah. That one filled up pretty quickly.”

”Seriously? What the fuck? I was told this was the only one available.” His eyes went dark for a minute before he fixed that smile on his face, a smile that didn”t quite reach his eyes. Something about that flash of emotion made my heart twinge, but I shook it off. This was Reed, a man who had everything handed to him. He could use a little discomfort and disappointment. The man might not be my ideal companion for this trip, but I found myself looking forward to seeing him and his perfectly manicured nails roughing it for a few days.

”So how many options were there?” Reed asked.

”I think there were five. Some were weekly classes like the pottery one, others weekend getaways, but this one was the longest.”

”So, which one were you hoping to do?”

”This one,” I stated.

Reed”s eyes widened. ”Wait? Are you serious? You had other, simpler things you could have done, but you chose to spend a week in the woods hunting a creature that doesn”t exist. Why?”

The shock in his tone was amusing. I grew up doing this, and he was appalled that anyone would choose to spend time outside.

”I like being in nature. It”s refreshing. Besides, a paid week away seemed like the best deal to me.”

”I…suppose.”

Before long, we were ushered into the small museum, and the fourteen of us barely fit in their main exhibit room. It was filled with framed photos with outlines of blurry shapes, plaster molds of footprints, maps, drawings, and photos of strange stick piles. I examined each item carefully, enjoying the showmanship of it all. It might not be a big place, but they had enough hype that it didn”t matter.

Reed sidled up beside me, close enough that I could smell him. Was he wearing cologne? I mentally rolled my eyes. Who wore cologne when they went camping? I would have been content to look around in peace and quiet, but apparently, he decided I was his buddy. Damn, he smelled good, though.

”Hey, Jesse. Do you actually believe in all this?”

”I don”t know. I mean, there”s a ton of stuff that can”t be explained. I believe man has a lot yet to discover. So who”s to say there aren”t creatures or beings beyond human reach that are older or different from what we know?”

It wasn”t that I believed completely, but there were too many stories in different places that were too similar for coincidence.

Reed”s breath tickled the skin of my cheek as he leaned in to whisper. ”Do you think this could be dangerous?”

I wanted to laugh, but when I caught the worry on his face, I decided to go easy on the guy. ”They do these trips all the time. It may be a little hokey, but they know what they are doing. Besides, there”s safety in numbers. Just don”t go anywhere by yourself and you”ll be fine.”

Bigfoot or no, it was generally good advice for camping that wouldn”t hurt him to follow.

That seemed to help a little as he took a step away from me and the worry decreased. And I could breathe a little easier without his cologne filling my nose. So why did I miss it…a little?

“If you listen carefully, you can hear the whoops and shrieks often attributed to Bigfoot,” Strike announced before a soundtrack played in the room. It was hard to distinguish anything through the wind and rustling until a faint shrill sounded.

Yet again, Reed was at my side, practically leaning against me. “What do you think that was?”

“Probably just a bird or something.” I had to admit that it didn’t sound like any animal I knew, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Okay, birds, yeah. That’s good.”

My lips pursed at the smile that wanted to form. I didn’t know why I was protecting this gorgeous man who overlooked me almost daily, but I had to admit I didn’t hate seeing the always suave and confident Reed Dawson a little shaken.