The Honeymoon Trap Confessions by Christina Hovland

Author:Christina Hovland [Hovland, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-07T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

In hindsight, wearing her Converse tennis shoes on the lake that morning was a bad idea. They were soaked. Unwearable. Which left her orange Hawaiian-print flip-flops. Looked like she was hiking in flip-flops.

She found William on one of the planked cedar benches. He leaned back against the outside wall of the cabin, his ankle crossed over his knee.

Lucy’s heart lodged in her throat. “Hey.” She took a step forward, unsure what else to say.

William had always treated her warmly, but this time he only gave a sad nod. His gaze didn’t meet hers.

“I’ll carry the backpack.” He took the bag from her shoulder, avoiding any skin on skin contact before he slipped it over the strong muscles of his back.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

She shuffled a few steps behind him in awkward silence, a nagging quiet that tugged at their time together.

William turned left at a fork in the trail.

“Did you get a map?” The words stuck thick in her throat.

He continued forward, as if unfazed by her question. “Don’t need one. The trail goes around the lake, looping back to the lodge.”

“I know it’s against man code to carry a map, but maybe we should turn back and get one before we get too far on the trail.” Her big toe snagged on a jagged stone, scuffing the skin so a drop of blood pooled at the nail. It began to throb. Head down, she scanned the ground to avoid rocks.

When he stopped two steps ahead, she stumbled into him. He reached to steady her; his expression unreadable.

“Right, we don’t need a map.” She gripped the soles of her shoes with her toes to keep herself steady.

His gaze met hers with gentle ease. It lasted only a moment before that expression of indifference she hated so much snapped back into place. This wasn’t right at all. From the day at the gas station when her window had broken to the game of Confessions at the cabin, he had constantly given bits of himself to her. Now, for the first time in his presence, loneliness crept in. So afraid of sharing too much, she had rationed the information she gave him. He hadn’t been wrong when he said she dodged his questions. A lot.

She couldn’t unwind the past, but she could push herself.

Trust him.

Columbine flowers sprouted along the thin, steep trail where they hiked in silence.

William marched ahead of her, and she did her best to match the pace he set. As the trail rounded across the edge of a cliff, her entire focus switched to not taking a header onto the jagged rocks. The grip of her flip-flops slipped, and she stumbled to her knees with an oof.

William helped her up. She wiped the dirt from her kneecaps.

“Will?” she asked softly.

He paused. His expression had gentled when she fell. It remained kind.

She squeezed his biceps to keep him from turning away. “I confess I like almost all the colors.” She had to do this. Give him more. “You asked the night we played Confessions.

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