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I narrow my eyes. “You did that on purpose. To torture me a little.”
His smile widens. “But just a little. Now, for a serious question. Where to put our fedoras while we’re cycling?”
In the end, we decide on strapping our hats gently under the top flaps on our backpacks and set out from the campground just as the morning sun clears the top of the bluffs in the distance. We could have cut at least an hour off our biking if we’d driven to another nearby park before setting out, but we already had our campsite set up and agreed that leaving straight from the camper felt like more of an adventure.
By the time we’ve been cycling for nearly two hours, however, my nether regions are demanding to know what the hell I was thinking, and my trembling quadriceps aren’t too thrilled either.
“Ow,” I mutter, wincing as I swing off my bike in the shade of a small rock formation. We’re not far from our final turn, the one that will lead us the last mile up into the foothills, where Butch Cassidy’s treasure is alleged to be hidden in the sprawling cave systems beneath.
But honestly, the thought of getting back on my bike anytime soon isn’t appealing. I waddle, slightly bowlegged, back and forth in the shade, sipping from my water bottle. The movement eases the ache, but I know I’ll be right back where I started as soon as I reboard my torture device.
Wes makes a considering sound low in his throat. “Saddle sore?”
“Very,” I say, grimacing as I turn back to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize my crotch needed to be in shape to bike long distances.”
“Your crotch is in incredible shape,” he says, pushing on when I arch a wry brow. “But I know what you’re saying. This is my fault, too. I forgot how sore you can get the first time back on a bike after a long break.” He glances around. “Want to lock up here and walk the rest of the way?”
My shoulders relax a little. “You wouldn’t mind?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He grins. “My crotch could use a break, too.”
I hum, playing up the worry in my voice as I say, “Oh, no. What if both our crotches are in such bad shape by the time we get back to the camper that we have to abstain from our usual festival of carnal delights?”
He laughs as he shakes his head. “Festival of carnal delights. I like that.”
“I do, too, but sometimes the mind is willing but the flesh is weak.”
He steps in, gripping my hip in that possessive way that drives me wild. “Ice packs. I put them in the freezer last night in case one of us was sore after the ride today.”
My lips hook up on one side. “Oh, yeah? So, we’re going to put ice packs on our nether regions? Sounds…unpleasant.”
“Not as unpleasant as going a night without fucking you,” he says, sending a different sort of ache tingling in to mix with the bruised feeling between my legs.
I tip my face closer to his, murmuring, “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make me want you without even trying?”
“I’m always trying,” he says, kissing me slow and sweet this time.
When he pulls back, I sigh and whisper, “Yep, that’s just what I needed. Now, I’m ready to hike.”
We find a rock thin enough to wrap our locks around its base, but tall and heavy enough that no one will be able to move it and leave our bikes behind, setting off up the trail into the mountains in the mid-morning sun. Thankfully, we reach the top of the first rise just as the heat is starting to build and step into the entrance to one of the more well-known caves to cool off in the shade as we eat our lunch.
Then, it’s just a matter of deciding where to explore first.
Reinvigorated by our meal and the excitement of being so close to our prize, I bounce on my toes. Wes spreads out the paper map we were given at the ranger’s station last night when we checked in and bought our caving permits.
He points to the largest black dot on the mountain. “We’re here, at the entrance to Smugglers Notch. If we have time later, we might want to come back to this one. There are supposed to be handrails on the path leading down to the main cavern and motion-activated lights so you can look around at the rock formations.”
“Totally,” I say, “sounds like fun. But we should probably head farther afield first. It sounds like all the caves on this side of the mountain have a good amount of foot traffic. Surely, if there were treasure to find here, someone would have found it by now.”
“True, but…” Wes points to the entrance of another fairly well-known cave about a half mile from our current location. “I was thinking about Devil’s Roost last night. I know we want to try a system that hasn’t been explored as much, but the Roost is the only cave mentioned by name by any of Butch Cassidy’s gang when they were interrogated by the police. And it opens up on the other side of the mountain, not far from the lesser-known systems.”
I nod. “So, if we don’t find anything in there, we can move on to poking around somewhere else. Sounds good.” I glance up at him, bobbing my brows. “And probably less of a chance of running into a colony of cranky bats in a place people frequent more often.”
“But if the brochure warnings are to be believed, we’re going to run into some sooner or later.” His eyes flash. “I can’t wait.”
