Page 86 of Rags's Awakening
Restlessness crawled beneath her skin. Maybe it was the warm weather urging her outside, or maybe it was the way Rags still lingered in her life, but Casey had to get out before she jumped out of her skin.
Then the image of the hot springs she’d discovered a few months before flickered through her mind. It was the perfect salve for the antsiness she couldn’t shake.
She went into the bedroom, pulled out a large tote, and stuffed a beach towel inside. She grabbed her rose-and-brown marled cardigan, swung her purse strap over her shoulder, and headed for the garage.
The early afternoon light was sharp and golden. Pinewood Springs rolled past as she drove, the scent of pine, earth, and hickory smoke drifting through the open window.
Soon the town fell behind her, replaced by winding back roads cutting through blue spruce and aspen grooves, the trees flashing blue, gold, and green in the breeze. The air was crisp and clean, heavy with the woody scent of pine and cedar.
She veered left onto a narrow dirt road, passing a sign that read: “Private Property—No Trespassing.”
Five miles later and there it was. A clear hot spring shimmered ahead, steam rising from its surface in delicate plumes that spiraled upward before dissolving into the blue sky. The wisps caught the light, forming translucent, smoky columns. A cooler mountain creek flowed into the pool, creating a natural blend of temperatures. The surround peaks reflected off the water’s surface, their craggy tops ringed with snow.
Casey had first stumbled onto the spring during one of her hikes. Lost and disoriented, she’d pushed through the trees and found this hidden treasure nestled deep in the woods, cradled by jagged boulders and towering pines.
She pulled her black Buick Encore GX into a secluded clearing tucked among pine trees, aspens, and willows, a few browning leaves still clinging to their branches.
Pausing, Casey took it all in: the quiet, the endless blue sky, the faint scent of warm mineral water drifting through the trees. The serenity wrapped around her like a soft blanket, a soothing embrace that eased her racing thoughts until the world beyond the trees faded away. She slipped out of her clothes, the mild air brushing her bare skin, and wrapped the beach towel around herself before heading toward the hot spring. Meadow grass carpeting the forest floor crunched softly beneath her steps.
Steam curled above the pool, the water framed by smooth stones and whispering trees. She laid the towel on the grass near the edge of the spring and waded in. The water was warm and mineral-rich, sliding over her bare skin and rising to her shoulders as she leaned back against the smooth rocks. Steam drifted upwards, catching the sunlight in thin, shifting veils. The gentle bubbling of the spring blended with the hush of wind through pine boughs and the low hum of late-season bees.
The tension in her body slowly melted away. She closed her eyes and listened to the forest, the water trickling over the rocks, the quiet rhythm of a warm late-fall afternoon. She let her mind drift, not pushing it in any directions, just inhabiting the present moment. Her limbs loosened, her breath steadied, and the only thing that mattered was the gentle sway for the water holding her in place.
Then something shifted.
It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, just a quickening of her pulse, a tightening at her scalp, a small quiver low in her gut, as if something were about to change everything.
Then the sound came a few seconds later, low, distant, and unmistakable.
Casey’s eyes snapped open. Her ears pricked at a noise she knew too damn well. A Harley. Steam drifted past her face as she turned the sound. The rumble grew louder, echoing between the trees, steady as a heartbeat.
Her pulse raced. She glanced toward the bank where her towel lay, calculating whether could rush out, snatch it up, and make it to her car, but the thundering sound approaching nixed any hope of escape.
Then the engine cut off, and the forest slipped back into its soft, natural rhythm.
She ducked lower in the water, heart hammering, eyes scanning the tree line. And then she saw him. Rags emerged through the evergreens, tall and lean, his brown hair wind-tossed, his black T-shirt fitting him like a glove. He took off his sunglasses and looked around, sunlight catching the green in his hazel eyes, turning them almost luminous.
Damnit!
Casey pushed back to the far side of the pool, careful not to disturb the surface. She hid behind a veil of steam, inching toward the low-hanging branches of a pine tree. The water caressed her as she tried to make herself smaller and unseen.
Rags walked to the bank of the hot spring, the pebbles crunching under his steps. She watched as he slipped his T-shirt over his shoulders, exposing the hard planes of his chest, the tattoos on his arms and torso shifting and dancing in the sunlight.
Her stomach did a wild, traitorous flip.
Suntanned skin rippled with lean muscles as he bent and pulled off one boot and then the other. He straightened and closed his eyes, tipping his head back to let the sun brush across his handsome face. He removed his hair tie and shook his head, his shoulder-length hair gleaming like polished chestnut as it fell loose.
Opening his eyes, he unbuttoned the top of his jeans.
Casey knew she should look away. But she didn’t. She remained frozen in the shadows, acutely aware of the rustle of leaves behind her, the distant call of a bird. Her focus snagged on the deep V-cut framing his lower abs. She watched the way the muscle flexed with every breath he took, her own lungs tightening as he traced the line until it dipped beneath his jeans.
Before she could suck in a steadying breath, the denim slid over his narrow hips, revealing long, lean legs. And he was completely bare.
Her throat went dry as her gaze landed on his penis. A spike of desire shot through her at the memory of its hardness rubbing against her as they’d kissed on her porch the week before.
Fascinated, she watched as he walked to the pool’s edge, scanning the water before easing in, gradually submerging his body. He brushed his hair back, lowered his head, and dove under. Water splashed, rippling outward.
Casey clutched a low branch, staring at the surface until it stilled. Nothing.
