Page 111 of Misguided

THIRTY-SIX

Mel

“You did good,” Dog praises as we make it back to camp.

I shoot him an unimpressed glare. There’s a rack of ribs thrown over my shoulder, and I have one side of the animal’s head in my hand, the velvet on the antlers at least minimizing the ache from holding it for so long.

Dog sets his side of the head down and then proceeds to unload not only a bag he stuffed the prime cuts of meat into, but the gun, and the other side of the ribs tied on to the pack.

He smirks as he helps me set my haul down.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing much.”

“Spill.” I nudge him in the back of the leg with my boot.

He glances up at me over his shoulder before straightening up to stand toe-to-toe. A stupid smile spreads across my face as he places his hands on my hips and gives me the most sincere, heartfelt look.

“It’s just …”

I melt at the adoration in his eyes.

“ … you look like a serial killer.”

The adorable look morphs into one of unhinged amusement as he cracks up laughing. I swat at his chest while I laugh too. The fucker had me.

“I was so sure you were about to say something sweet.”

He shakes his head, the blond lengths falling into his eyes. “You should see your face. What did you do? Rub your eye or somethin’?”

“Probably.” I shrug.

“Hold there. I’ll get my phone so I can take a photo and show you.”

He dashes away, clearly excited at the thought, and leaves me with the masses of meat. A part of me feels terrible that the buck met its end, but most of me is thankful for the space it’ll fill in the freezer.

The hike back to camp would have been long enough on its own, but add in the walk out to retrieve the animal and my feet are toast. I drop down on the grass and begin unlacing my boots as Dog emerges from where he’d been inside the tent.

“What’s the matter?” I hesitate, lace in hand.

He walks absently toward me while staring at his phone. “Got a message from King while we were out.”

“What’s going on?” We’ve barely been gone a day. What could give him reason to get in touch?

“Family problems.” Dog stops beside where I sit. “I need to get back by the looks of things.”

“Guess we’ll pack up and set off then.” I reverse what I was doing and re-lace my boots.

He frowns down at me, his chest heaving with a sigh. “I’m sure it’s nothin’ to worry about.”

“Try saying that again like you mean it.”

Dog holds out his hand and I take it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. “You had fun, though?”

I nod, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself. “Despite the fact I’m apparently covered in blood, yeah, I did.”

“I did too, babe.” His lips curl up on one side as he looks down at me.