“They’re the same as when you left this morning. The shelter over on tenth called, though. They have an old cat they can’t home. He’s not the friendliest thing.”
“Take him. Put him in one of the solitary habitats, then have Gene come by and look at him as soon as he can.”
“Already done. I told you, Spencer, I’ve got this.”
He stayed on the line for a few more minutes, needling Martina for more information about his cats. Only when she threatened not to take any pictures did he get off the phone.
After a trek to Carl’s, where he ate his weight in steak, he went back to his hotel and unpacked his sleeping bag and pillow from the trunk of the car. He pulled the pillows off the bed and set them on the loveseat. He stripped the blanket off the bed and unrolled his sleeping bag on top of the sheets.
The more time Spencer spent alone, the more he realized he was glad his friends hadn’t been able to make it. They were great guys, but sometimes they took things too far. Dillon was the nicest of the bunch and he’d have been cool to travel with, but as Spencer undressed and climbed into his sleeping bag, he thought maybe it was for the best that Dillon didn’t come.
Spencer was up early the next morning and made good use of the coffee pot while he did a final check to make sure he had all his gear. Then, just as the sun started to light the sky, he hopped into his car and headed up the mountain toward the starting point of the tour.
Nothing could’ve prepared Spencer for the long and winding drive up the mountain to The Painted Goat tour. The road didn’t offer the smoothest of drives, and there were so many hairpin corners and switchbacks that Spencer lost all sense of direction. When the sign for the ranger station came into focus, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He’d spent months waiting for this day, just to have it done and over with. The whole thing had been booked during a rage. None of his friends thought he’d go through with it. A day in the wilderness, surrounded by bugs and trees and potentially deadly animals. They expected him to cancel and spend the day at a spa like Dillon had suggested, and he wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.
Spencer got out of his car and unlocked the trunk. He grabbed his backpack, attaching the tent, and slid his arms through the straps. He could do this. It was only two days and one night. The possibility of getting eaten by a bear was almost nothing.
Speaking of bears, Spencer thought, when a gorgeous man with a stern expression turned to the sound of Spencer arming his car alarm. From the grey sprinkled in his hair and beard, the man had to be over forty, and Spencer could tell he worked out in the wilderness for a living. Everything about him screamed mountain man. The thick arms. Tree trunk legs. The flannel. Dear God, the flannel. Spencer never knew he possessed a flannel fetish, but the whole lumberjack look really worked for this guy.
Spencer took a breath and approached the man with a lot more confidence than he felt. “I’m Spencer Kawa. Are you Collin?”
The guy nodded and extended a hand. Spencer took it, noting the rough calluses and the strength in the man’s grip.
“We’re just waiting on the rest of the group, then we can get acquainted and hit the trail.” The man’s accent threw Spencer at first, but then he realized that it was definitely English. Before Spencer could pry about Collin’s origins, another vehicle pulled into the parking lot.
Spencer turned his head and watched as a single person climbed out of the vehicle. He grabbed a pack and slung it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.
“Is this where the tour is meeting?” the guy asked.
“Sure is.” Collin said. “I’m Collin Roscoe.”
“Max Caldwell.”
Spencer watched the exchange and he silently thought that today might not be the worst day of his life. He might be in the wilderness with strangers, but at least two of them were good-looking.
“So,” Spencer said. “How many others are we waiting for?”
“One more, I think,” Collin said and Max shook his head.
“It’s just me,” Max said, staring at his feet. “Trent, uh...he’s not coming.”
Spencer was relieved to not be the only person who came alone. Then he realized that this was the entire group. He didn’t know if that made him feel better or worse about the whole thing.
Chapter 3
Max is not a Daddy
“It’s just the three of us?” Max lifted a dark brow and shifted his attention from the rugged guide and the...less rugged twink standing beside him.
“Seems like it,” the guide said, stepping forward. “Normally I work with a partner, but since the tour’s just the two of you, I’ll be your guide for the duration. D’you two know each other?”
“No,” Max said. “Uh, I’m Max.”
“Spencer,” the twink said, sidling up next to Collin and bumping him out of the way. He outstretched a slender arm and presented the top of his hand to Max.
Max took it awkwardly and tried to turn it into a normal handshake, but Spencer fought him on it until Max gave in. He couldn’t even figure out why Spencer was going camping and whitewater rafting in the first place. He would have guessed someone like this kid would have been dragged to the outdoors kicking and screaming, but here he was, seemingly willingly and all on his own.
“Is it really just him?” Max asked after taking his hand back.
“We had some cancellations,” Collin offered with a helpless shrug.
Max darted his gaze back toward Collin and had to quickly look down at the ground. Collin was handsome, and Max had no place finding anyone attractive right now. He hoisted his hiking backpack higher up onto his shoulders and grunted.
“The weather should be good for most of the day, so before we hit the trail, I want to go over a few basic safety things with you, alright?” Collin braced his hands on his hips and grinned.
Max blinked slowly, annoyed with how peppy Collin was and annoyed with how pretty Spencer was. He should have cancelled the stupid trip yesterday. But he was a glutton for punishment, and as such, he shoved his left hand into the pocket of his jeans and sighed.
“Sure.”
“Sounds good. Let’s head into the office and we’ll get sorted.” Collin turned, gravel crunching under his heel, and Max gestured for Spencer to follow. Max picked up the end and cursed himself for letting his eyes wander to Spencer’s ass. He was such an asshole. He gritted his teeth and studied the back of Spencer’s perfectly styled hair instead.
Collin led them into a rustic looking cabin office and pointed at two chairs. “You can have a seat here. I’ll be back in a tick.”
Max collapsed into one of the worn chairs without a word and Spencer took the other. Max leaned back and closed his eyes, rolling his head around his shoulders.
“So,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts. “What brings you on this excursion?”
Max opened one eye and narrowed it at Spencer.
“I was feeling optimistic when I booked it,” Max answered, which wasn’t a lie. When Max had reserved the trip three months prior, he’d been another version of himself, full of hope and thirst for the future. Now, he was just here to do what he’d promised himself he would.