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“With that glazed over look in your eyes and the blush on your cheeks, I’d think you might be thinking about a certain handsome accountant?”

I release a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. A week ago I couldn’t stand him, and now I can’t stop thinking about him? The altitude is messing with my brain.”

She loops her arm through mine and directs us toward the tent where dinner is about to be served. “Like I said before, no harm in a vacation fling.”

“Yeah, but David is the kind of man you settle down with… not the man you have a vacation fling with. And I have no desire to settle down and be chained to one city forever.”

She scrunches her nose like she knows I’m right. “You have a wild soul, Isabella. But settling down isn’t so bad when it’s with the right person.”

Anthony is waiting for her outside the dinner tent and they grin at each other as we get closer. “Maybe you need someone who will keep you safe while you keep them a little wild? I have an inkling that David needs a dose of wildness.” She winks.

She lets go of my arm and heads into the tent with her husband. I stand there for a moment, contemplating what she said.

Could David learn to be a little wild?

Chapter fifteen

David

I need some space from Isa. Her positive disposition and spandex outfits are doing something to my brain… like making me think I could tolerate spending time with her. Maybe hiking is giving me too much uninterrupted time with my thoughts… but I can’t stop daydreaming about a future with Isa. My mind is conjuring up dreamy scenes of us traveling together, cooking empanadas in the kitchen… even having arguments about her messing up my alphabetized pantry system.

No one has ever gotten past my grouchy exterior the way she has. Isa has burrowed herself into my skin and made me want to open up and share everything with her. But I can’t make sense of it. Why her?

I’ve had a lot of first dates. If Brooks is a serial-dater, I’m a serial first-dater. Because that’s as far as I’ve ever gotten before my dates tell me they’ll call me and I know they won’t, but I don’t really care because I wasn’t into them either.

But Isa has me showing the side of myself that’s witty and thoughtful, the side only those closest to me get to see. Not the side of me that’s dull and folds my washcloths the same way, then makes sure they’re all facing the same direction inside the linen closet.

I gave up years ago trying to find someone who could tolerate my cynical personality. Convinced myself I was better off being Uncle David… the guy who spoils his nieces and nephews and someday helps them with their algebra homework.

A few nights of sharing a tent with Isa and my brain has turned to mush. I enter the tent where dinner has been prepared for us. Gerald, Austin, and a few of the older couples in our group are seated at a table with one seat left. I quickly make my way over, knowing Isa will have to sit at a different table and maybe I’ll regain all the brain cells I’ve obviously lost during this trek. I take a seat across from Gerald and Austin. Isa enters the tent just then and I meet her gaze across the tent for a second before making myself look away.

The twins wink at me, and I roll my eyes. If they’re trying to be discreet, they’re failing miserably.

Our table is full, so Isa takes a seat at the other end of the tent with the younger crowd. But she sits next to Chris and I feel my shoulders tense.

I drag my hands down my face, feeling frustrated with myself. Why should I be annoyed that she's sitting by Chris? She and I aren’t together, and I have no claim on her. It’s ridiculous that I’ve even developed the tiniest little crush on the woman… okay, maybe not so tiny.

I need a drink, and something stronger than this coffee we’ve been served. Although, I must admit, it’s impeccable coffee. Harvested from a local coffee farm.

Tonight is my last night sharing a tent with Isa, and the realization makes my throat feel thick. Tomorrow night, I’ll be back in my hotel room before heading home on an early flight the following morning.

All throughout dinner, I’m lost in my own thoughts and barely hear the conversations happening all around me. I manage to half-smile and nod a few times when spoken to so I appear mildly social. But thoughts of a certain raven-haired woman with enough spunk for five people is taking over all of my thoughts.

Spending the day with her was so effortless. The silences were comfortable, and the conversation was easy. I didn’t even mind stopping to take photos for her every few miles. Especially now that I know she’s a small business owner like myself. I admire people who work hard, and I was obviously wrong about Isa being lazy. She works full time at her parents’ restaurant while also having a side hustle.

But where do we go from here? We’ve hated and pestered one another for nearly a year. If we can’t get along as neighbors, what would a relationship look like?

And what makes me think she’d even want to go out with me? I’m probably reading the signs all wrong, like I always do with women. I wish women were more black and white. Easy to solve, like an equation.

Ugh, why didn’t I pack that freaking journal Drew gave me? The one time I actually have enough feelings to write them down, and I didn’t even bring it with me.

My head jerks up when a finger taps me on the shoulder. I look behind me and see Rocco standing there. The tent is now empty except for the two of us. I didn’t even notice when everyone left.

“You okay?” Rocco asks, cocking his head to the side in curiosity.

I huff out a small laugh as I stand with my plate in hand. “Yeah, sorry. Just tired.”

“No problem. Make sure you’re staying hydrated.” He smiles and gives me a pat on the back.