Defending the House (Watkins Glen Gladiators #2) by V.L. Locey

Author:V.L. Locey [Locey, V.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

“I think it’s a blister.”

I sat down beside Criswell on a bright and cool Saturday morning about a quarter of the way up the Watkins Glen gorge and waited for him to pull off his pink hiking boot. “It feels like a blister.”

“Are those new shoes?” I asked as tourists walked past, many in hiking gear, others just in weekend casual. The park drew visitors from all over, with its natural beauty, sheer rock walls, and nineteen waterfalls. It really was a breathtaking park. The climb of over five hundred feet in elevation had over eight hundred steps, the trail going for about a mile and a half. It wasn’t a difficult climb by any means, but for someone who wasn’t in top shape, it could be a bit of a huff. Criswell was huffing and puffing and looking incredibly cute.

“No, well, not really.” He eased the boot off his foot, rolled down his sock, and grimaced. “I got them at Goodwill a few months ago. Mostly for show as I don’t hike, but they were cute and only two bucks. Oh hell, look at that. Oh! It’s filled with water.” He poked the blister on the back of his heel. Yep, it was filled with water. His cheeks were flushed from the climb, his clothes damp from the waterfalls, and his hair plastered to his head. He was so cute, I wanted to kiss him right here on this rock wall overlooking a glorious pool filled with rainwater. “Should I break it?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to pop a blister. Do you have a Band-Aid in your purse?” A guy in a Gladiator tee stopped to ask me for a selfie. I posed, smiled, and shook his hand. Criswell sat there, awed, his bare foot in his hand. “I might have one in my wallet, but it’s probably old and gross.”

“I might have one.” He dug into the large bag hanging off his shoulder. He’d dressed the part of hiker with a hat, khaki pants, a camo tee of gray and pink, and those new old boots. “Does that happen a lot? People coming up to you for selfies and autographs?”

“Yeah, pretty often. Not as often as it does for Sidney Crosby, I’m sure.”

“Oh, is he a popular player for your team?” he asked, his attention on his bright yellow bag. That made me laugh, which brought those baby blues from his bag to me. “What? Did I make a sport gaffe?”

I pinched some air between my fingers. “Just a little one. It’s fine.” He made an oopsie face as he pulled out a small box of bandages. “Here, let me help.” I took his foot in my hand, twisted his leg to the side, and tenderly placed the Band-Aid over the blister. “You shouldn’t put that boot back on.”

He glanced up the trail. Leaves of russet and gold were floating down from the trees above the gorge. Several trees were growing out of the rock walls, thin spindly things, but they too had leaves that were tumbling down into the waters flowing through the ravine.

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