Chapter 9

Micki walked with Tate and Patrick back toward the lodge. She glanced at Patrick, wondering if he thought she and Tate were nuts. Of course he did. She saw it in his expression when they jumped into the lake. She also saw a man who didn't know how to have a good time. Didn't he go swimming as a kid? Or was it a case of having lost that part of him. His inner child.

"Wait until we tell Paw Paw that we fixed the dock. Can I tell him, Aunt Micki?" Tate rushed to the stairs.

"You sure can."

Tate clambered up the steps to the house.

"What about you Dr. Patrick? What are you going to do now?"

"Change out of my wet clothes. Then…I don't know. Read maybe."

Reading was a great past time while relaxing by the lake, but Patrick needed to take in the beauty of his surroundings, not hide in a book.

"Be ready in two hours. Wear something cool and good shoes." She started up the steps to the house.

"What happens in two hours?"

She stopped, turned to look over her shoulder with a coy smile. "I'm going to blow your mind, Dr. Patrick." She winked and then returned to the house. She glanced at him through the window wondering if he was shocked or confused by her statement. Her intention was to take him on a hike up to the ridge. The day was clear, which meant the view would be spectacular. Not that she wouldn't be interested in blowing his mind another way. Her skin heated up remembering how it felt when he wrapped his arm around her body and held her against him. His chest was warm against her back, and she wouldn't have minded staying there for a time.

"Oh lordy, did you two jump in the lake with your clothes on?" Micki's mother pursed her lips at a dripping Tate standing in her kitchen.

"And Dr. Patrick too," Tate said excitedly. "We fixed the doc, Paw Paw."

"Dr. Andres didn't do that too, did he?" Disapproval shone on her mother's face.

"He did."

"Goodness, Mick, he's supposed to be relaxing."

"The poor guy doesn't know how," her father said. "He outright told me so. Still…I could have done the dock."

"Now you don't have to. Tate, let's go change."

"'k." Tate zoomed out of the kitchen.

"I'll clean this up." Micki grabbed a towel to wipe up the water Tate dripped onto the floor. She didn't want any hazards to her father's already tenuous mobility. "Then I'm going to work on business until lunch. Then I'm going to take Dr. Andres to the ridge." She knelt on the floor, cleaning up the water. When her parents didn't respond, she looked up at them. They were watching her with curious expressions. "What?"

"You've never been the social director for a visitor before," her mother said.

"Sure, I have. I do the fourth of July party, I arrange?—"

"Not hikes or swimming with your clothes on."

"I suppose we should be glad you weren't skinny dipping," her father quipped.

"There's an idea." Micki hoped that by leaning into her father's comment it would stop them from speculating on why she was spending time with Patrick.

Her mother's eyes widened. "Micki?—"

Micki held a hand up to stop her mother. "We agreed that he could be an important visitor to get more people to come here. That won't happen if he doesn't figure out how to relax. I'm just making sure he enjoys himself so he can tell as his rich friends about us."

Her mother arched a brow, clearly not buying her explanation. "I'm not sure building a dock constitutes relaxing."

"But a hike will. I can invite our newlyweds to go too." The fact that Micki hoped they'd say no proved her parent's curiosity about her attention to Patrick was warranted.

"They're antiquing today," her mother said.

"A hike will be good. That boy needs fresh air in those gunked up New York lungs."

Her mother sighed. "Yes, of course. I'll keep Tate occupied."

Micki felt she should invite Tate along but didn't want to share Patrick.

Micki went to her office, and like each day, she hoped she'd find the one thing that would save the family resort. And like each day, she didn't. Not that she didn't have a few ideas. But they didn't have the money to enact them. So, she did her regular duties involving ordering supplies for the cabins, updating the accounting books, and posting pictures on social media. They always received likes and comments, but rarely a booking. Maybe today on the ridge she'd take the one picture that would bring in business. Perhaps she could include Patrick in it. Sure, he was a little stuffy and aloof, but he was good looking.

When she finished, she changed into a tank top and walking shorts, put on socks and her hiking shoes, and filled two tumblers with water. She put them in her backpack along with a first aid kit, bear spray, and sunscreen. She exited her apartment to the outside avoid her parents and Tate. As she walked the path toward Patrick's cabin, she saw the newlyweds floating on the lake.

She knocked on Patrick's door. He answered quickly as if he was waiting for her. She liked the idea of that. "Ready?"

"I doubt it."

She laughed. Patrick knew he was a fish out of water, but he seemed to find humor in it. She took in his shorts, the same color as the ones he'd worn earlier. He wore a dark green collared T-shirt. He'd be hot, but she doubted he had a lighter fabric shirt.

"Did you put on sunscreen?" She reached into her backpack and pulled out the tube, handing it to him.

"No." He took it and squeezed a bit into his hand and spread it on his face, leaving streaks.

"Here. Let me help." She stood in front of him, her fingers rubbing the cream into his face. "Try not to sweat or it might go into your eyes."

He arched a brow. "It's impossible not to sweat here."

She continued to rub the cream over his jaw, down his neck and v- in his shirt. All of a sudden, the contact felt intimate. She glanced up at him. His dark eyes were watching her.

"Good thing you have your shirt on otherwise I'd have my hands all over you." Inwardly she winced at how corny and suggestive her comment was.

He shrugged. "It depends."

She wasn't sure what she meant.

"On if it's a good thing," he clarified.

The room grew warmer, and Micki was on the verge of pushing the man back to his bed and running her hands all over his body.

He watched her a moment longer and she wondered if he was waiting for her to jump him. He cleared his throat. "I hope this walk isn't too strenuous. I'm feeling the effects of moving wood and building a deck in my shoulders and back."

She stepped back, putting the sunscreen in her backpack and then slipping it on her back. "There won't be any climbing. Just hiking."

They left Patrick's cabin, walking behind it and along the lake for a bit, before catching the trail that headed up the mountain.

"Watch for poison ivy." Micki pointed to the plant on the side of the trail.

"I feel like I'm in Australia. Everything around me can kill me."

She laughed. "Our spiders aren't as big or deadly. Have you been to Australia?"

"Twice."

She stopped, turning to look at him. "Really? If you went there, you shouldn't feel so?—"

"I went to a conference. I stayed in the city."

That made sense. "Still, I bet it was nice." She resumed her hike up the mountain.

"I suppose."

They continued, each step Micki telling herself not to be nosy by asking a lot of questions, but ultimately, she couldn't help herself. "Do you ever do anything fun?"

He didn't answer right away, and she worried she'd offended him. She was too afraid to stop and look behind her to find out.

"What makes you think I don't have fun?"

"My dad mentioned that you said you didn't know how."

"I don't know how to relax."

"Oh." She frowned. "Is there a difference?"

"I don't know how to not do anything. But I enjoy dinner with friends. My work…or I did."

Her heart clenched at how his voice had fallen mentioning the loss of his work.

"Are you any closer to figuring out what to do?" she asked.

"I know what to do. I just don't want to do it."

She stopped again, pulling out a water bottle from the side pocket of her pack and handing it to him. "Then why not do something else?"

He took the water, flipping the lid and drinking as she took out the other bottle and sipped. "I've lost all credibility with what I want to do."

"It can't be all that bad."

His head turned away looking over the resort, but she was sure he wasn't admiring the view. "When you're an expert about the minds of people who commit crime but completely miss that your sister is one of them, then yes, it's as bad as that."

He gulped down water, then looked down. "Truth is, I think I did know, I just thought I could manage her."

"You thought she'd try to kill Dr. McKenna's husband?"

"I didn't think that specifically, but I knew something was off." He let out an expletive that surprised her. He didn't seem the type to let off f-bombs. "I'm sorry?—"

"No. That's fine. It's a great word when you're frustrated." She put her water back into the pack and took his, putting it in the other pocket. Then she started up again. "You know, I'm a little disappointed that you haven't figured things out. I was hoping you would and could show me how you did it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's only a matter of time before my parents will have to sell the resort. When they do, they'll likely move to a retirement community where I won't be allowed because I'm too young. I don't know what I'll do."

"Running this place seems like requires skills you can use elsewhere."

"Maybe. Sometimes I think about becoming a park ranger. Or maybe opening a bed and breakfast. I know I can find work but leaving this place…" Micki swallowed the emotion that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. "I love it here."

"What about the resort up the road?—"

"I can't be a traitor."

"Right. I guess we're both stuck."

"Maybe exercise, sunshine, and fresh air will make way for answers."

Micki set a steady pace, every now and then looking back to make sure Patrick was keeping up. She noted he had a strong body, but that didn't necessarily mean he was fit.

As she hiked, she pointed out various plants and wildlife along the way—a deer grazing in a clearing, a hawk circling overhead. As they continued up toward the ridge, conversation ebbed and flowed naturally between them. Mostly they spoke of inconsequential things like their favorite books and movies. Micki started a game of this or that—dog or cat, coffee or tea, waffles or pancakes.

"Love or money?" She wanted to turn and see his response. She knew from their conversation on the deck the first day he arrived that he didn't believe in true love for himself.

"Freedom."

She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as she shook her head. "That's not how this game works."

He shrugged. "I don't care about love or money."

She frowned. "Really?"

He rolled his shoulders. "I suppose that's callous considering I have money. I won't deny I like having it. But I'm not motivated by it."

"And love?"

"You know my thoughts on that."

She sighed and resumed hiking.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I suppose I'd choose love. I mean, money could be helpful right now, but I'd still rather have love, my family."

They rounded a large group of boulders. The trail wove through them, requiring more concentration and effort as they navigated the last few yards of the hike.

Micki reached the top and stood, inhaling a breath, and lifting her head to sun. "Well? What do you think?" The mountains rolled southward with a blue hue giving them their name. Westward lay the Shenandoah valley, shimmering in lush green.

Patrick stood next to her taking in the scenery. "It's lovely."

"That's not all. Turn round." She slipped her arm through his as she maneuvered him to look eastward.

"Another valley."

"Technically it's the piedmont. We're on a ridge dividing the state between the two. It's like being on top of the world."

He turned his gaze on her. "You have an amazing take on the world."

"You mean for being a flat broke country girl?" She smirked.

He shook his head. "For anyone. You see meaning where I saw emptiness. Beauty in vastness. You find joy in the midst of difficulty. I'm shamed by it."

"Shame?" She hated how something that was supposed to help him find perspective was bringing negative emotions.

"I have so much more than you and wallow in my misery. You?—"

"First, all you have more than me is money and I think we've agreed that money isn't everything. Second, it's that whole glass half empty or half full thing." She stepped closer then—a mere breath away—and lifted her hand to rest lightly against his cheek. "But I think you appreciate more than you let on. Even I get down sometimes."

"You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

"I don't think so. There's life in you, Patrick. You just need to let go of the guilt."

"That's easier said than done."

She laughed. "Well, if you, a shrink, can't do it, what hope is there for the rest of us?" She rose up on her tiptoes. "I see you, Dr. Patrick Andres. You can't hide forever." She pressed her lips against his. She hadn't intended to kiss him, but being so close to him, feeling the ache in his soul and wanting to soothe it, she went with instinct.

The kiss wasn't long or deep, and yet, it was full. As they pulled apart slightly, Patrick rested his forehead against hers.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"For kissing you? Of course. Happy to do it."

He laughed. "I meant helping me see beyond my pity. Although thank you for the kiss too."

"Like I said, happy to do it."

"Helping me see beyond my pity or kissing?"

Micki was happy to see the humor back in him. "Both."

A rumble and distance flash distracted Micki. She turned toward the east to see dark clouds moving toward them. "Ut oh. That storm is moving faster than I anticipated. We should go."

Patrick watched it for a moment. "Sydney once told me about watching a southern summer storm. She said it was intense and powerful."

"Yes, well, she was likely on a covered porch, not on unsheltered mountain. We should go unless you want to be one of the one in ten thousand people who get struck by lightning." She hurried off the top of the ridge.

"Really. That many?" Patrick followed.

"That's the odds of being struck in a lifetime." She didn't slow down once they reached the tree line.

"Are we safer in the woods?"

"Not enough." The first rain drops landed on her face. "We should pick up the pace."

They made it halfway down when the wind and rain picked up. But it was the lightening that most concerned Micki. She chastised herself for not checking the weather again before embarking on the hike.

A clap of thunder cracked, sending a shockwave through the area. Micki startled and let out a yelp.

"We need shelter. Come on. This way." She hurried to a fork in the path and veered in the opposite direction from the resort.

"Is that the right way?"

"Right now, it is." It was another quarter mile before the hunting cabin appeared. "Come on. Hurry." The rain was pelting. Her wet clothes clung to her body. But that wasn't a problem. A thunderstorm swirling above them was the issue.

She reached the door and did the combo for the lock. She pushed the door open and then grabbed Patrick, tugging him in. Outside, a flash of white lit up the darkened sky.

Micki shut the door and leaned against it, taking in deep breaths as her adrenaline continued to course through her body.

"You okay?" Patrick studied her.

"You do realize getting struck by lightning is fatal, right?"

"I didn't think it was that close. To be honest, I was more worried about bears and snakes."

She shook her head as she laughed at him. "I suppose getting electrocuted would be better than eaten by a bear."

She watched him, glad he hadn't realized how much danger they could have been in. As she studied him, she took in how his shirt molded to his chest. A chest she'd really wanted to touch earlier in the lake.

His eye shone with life, something she hadn't ever seen in him. Something about their near death by electrocution invigorated him. It made him even more handsome…sexy.

"If I started taking off my wet clothes, would that be a problem?" she asked.

"Not for me." He stepped closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist. "I could help, if you wanted me to." He tugged her close enough to feel that he wasn't just invigorated, he was hard.

"Thunder storms turn you on, Dr. Andres?"

He shook his head. "No. You do, Michaela Kincaid."

"Well then…" She didn't know what to say so she just acted. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist, as she fused her lips to his.