Chapter Seven


    JC watched her walk off and disappear in the tent. He then let out a sigh he ran his fingers through his thick, brown hair. He still had no idea why he kissed her, it just happened. When he saw her tears, he panicked. He hated to see a woman cry, but instead of being gentle with her and telling her it was okay, he kissed her.
    After cursing himself one last time, he stalked over to the bag and pulled out his notepad. He knew he should of left it behind, but he just couldn’t. He’d written a lot of songs out of this book, and he couldn’t of just left it behind. Hewalked over to a boulder that was sitting on the edge of the river and climbed up it. He was planning on writing this week anyway, and just because he almost died in a plane crash shouldn’t stop him.
    He opened the worn out red notebook and flipped through the written pages, until he got to a blank one. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before slipped it back on back wards. He sat Indian style as he started to write the words that were floating around in his mind.
    He kept on writing, occasionally scratching out words and phrases and starting over. When he was stump, he would twirl the pen like a drummer would do with his sticks. When he thought of something, he would slap the pen against the paper before writing it down. Angie walked up to him, studying him slightly. He looked like a little boy learning how to color. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth, like a boy trying to concentrate to stay in the lines.
    “What are you doing?”
    His head whipped around. “Nothing,” he said as he closed the notebook quickly. “What do you want?”
    She arched a brow. “I was just noticing that it was getting dark outside, and…”
    “What?” he asked as he looked up. “Woah, it is.” How long had he been writing, he wondered and then twisted his back until he heard a satisfying pop.
    “Well, like I said it’s getting dark, and maybe we should start a fire or something.”
    “Yeah, I was meaning to get that done,” he said as he scooted off the boulder. “I lost track of time.”
    “What were you doing?”
    He shrugged. “Just writing,” he said as he walked over to the backpacks.
    “Writing? What kind of writing? Oh, are you writing a new song? Can I see?”
    “I don’t think so,” he said as he lifted it out of reach when she tried to grab it.
    “Why not?”
    “Because it’s private, and it’s no where near done,” he said and then stuffed it in his pack.
    She crossed her arm in a pout. “Fine, I don’t like your music anyway.”
    He laughed. “Are you sure your 21?” She just stuck out her tongue. “I guess not. Well, while your sulking like a spoiled eight year old, pick up some twigs while your at it.”
    “Oh, kiss it,” she said as she walked away and slapped her butt.
    He just laughed. “Don’t tempt me, Morgan!”

    After Angie spent a good ten minutes picking up sticks, she walked back to the campsite to see that JC already had the fire going right in front of the tent. “That’s quite a fire you got there, JC,” she said asshe laid the pile of twigs down. “What did you do, rub two sticks together.”
    He laughed. “Hardly,” he said as he reached in his pocket and pulled out a lighter. “So either our good friends were smokers or they weren’t really one with nature.”
    She laughed softly as she sat down next to the warm fire. He had positioned rocks in a circle and then built the fire inside of it. It crackled with life, as she rubbed her cold hand together. JC saw the gesture. “Cold?”
    “Yeah, but the fire is helping,” she said and then cupped her mouth and blew out hot air to warm them.
    “Here,” he said as he got up and grabbed one of the blankets. He walked behind her and knelt by her as he put it around her shoulder. “That should help.”
    “Thanks,” she said with a shy smile.
    “Sure,” he softly and then casually lifted strands of her hair so it wouldn’t be tucked in the blanket. When his knuckled brushed the nape of her neck, she shuddered. “Are you sure your okay?” JC asked.
    She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” She will be fine once he moves away from her. Whenever he was near her, all she could think about was how wonderful it was to wake up in his arms, or the feel of his lips against hers. The thought of it made her shudder again.
    “You are not fine,” he said with concern.
    “JC, I’m fine,” she turned around not realizing how close he was. Their faces were only inches apart; their mouths were so close that their breaths ran together.
    JC studied her in the firelight, which brought a hint of gold flickering in her hazel eyes. His eyes shifted to her lips, but only for a second. But that second was long enough to remember the feel of them, the taste of them. “Are you sure?” he finally asked, knowing he needed to be a safe distance away from her.
    “Yes,” she finally said. “So stop fussing over me.” He smiled softly. “Okay,” he said as he got up and went back to the other side of the fire. “Are you hungry?”
    “Do you have to ask?”
    He smiled. “Well, let’s see what we got. You know it’s a shame we didn’t bring the fishing poles. I’m sure there’s some great trout in the river.”
    “I think there is. Or at least I felt something rub against my leg in there.”
    He gave her a hard look. “Not funny, Morgan.”
She winced. “Sorry, just trying to add a little humor.”
    “Then stick with knock, knock jokes please,” he said and then pulled out a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. “Dinner is served.”
    “I don’t suppose we have knife?”
    “Actually, they packed a bag of plastic silverware, but I only took out a handful.” He then reached it and unzipped a little pocket inside and pulled out a plastic knife. He pulled out a piece of bread and tossed the loaf. “You know, I was thinking,” he said as he spread the peanut butter on his bread. “We should sleep by the fire tonight, and only use the tent when it rains.”
    “Really?” she asked as she caught the jar he tossed over. “Well, I guess it would be a lot warmer.”
    “A lot,” he agreed. “I must say I’m impressed that you put up the tent.”
    “Thank you,” she said and then took a bite. “Even a spoiled little brat can be helpful.”
    He just laughed at that and took a bite of his sandwich. After they ate they pulled out the sleeping bags and stretched out on either side of the fire. “Are you warm enough?” JC asked as he curled up into a ball.
    “I’m getting there,” she said.
    “Well, if you get too cold let me know,” he said. “I’ll give you my extra blanket.”
    “So you can freeze? I don’t think so. Stop playing the hero JC, it’s getting annoying.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Morgan, go to sleep.”
    Angie put the sleeping bag over her head, taking in the silence. “JC?” she finally said.
    “What?” he mumbled.
    “Thanks anyways.”
    He smiled in the dark. “You’re welcome.”



Next Chapter