Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
More driving on a bumpy road that was more trail than driveway eventually led to a small clearing dominated by a red yurt with wood sides and a white top, along with a couple of smaller structures. A shallow creek meandered through the clearing, adding to the pristine, isolated vibe. Adam had explained that his friend had a couple of these yurt sites, along with his own cabin house and a barn for some rescued horses, but from this vantage point, we felt like the only humans for miles and miles.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding about off-grid,” I said as I parked in the gravel area in front of the yurt, which also contained a picnic table and fire pit closer to the creek.
“Yeah, it’s pretty rustic. It’s got some solar, like for hot water, and in the fall and winter, when we come up here to hunt, we use a propane heater.” Adam pointed out the solar panels and a propane tank hidden behind a screen of trees.
I followed him as we explored the setup. Near the yurt, a separate small wooden structure housed a sink, basic bathroom facilities, and a shower, which was open to the sky. A grill and outdoor kitchen probably came in handy for those hunting parties Adam mentioned while inside the yurt had a number of features tourists would rave about. There were wide wood-plank floors, a huge skylight in the center of the domed roof, a queen bed that looked hand-carved, a small sitting area, and storage tucked along one wall, including a mini-fridge powered by the solar panels outside.
“You were right. Candles will totally add to the ambiance,” I said as I set one of the food bags near the fridge and colorful wood pantry.
“Not too rustic?” He was busy carrying stuff in, but there was a nervous note to his voice that wasn’t usually there, as if he were afraid I was about to demand a return to civilization.
“It’s perfect.” And so was he. My chest went all warm again. All the thought he’d put into this little trip made me feel pampered in a way I wasn’t sure I’d ever been. I crossed to where he was near the door and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me, Daddy.”
“Good boy.” Not letting me get away with the fast brush of contact, he held me closer and found my mouth for a more lingering kiss. It was nice, being somewhere private enough where we could be ourselves and where I could show him affection that wasn’t necessarily foreplay. I didn’t crave a twenty-four-seven Daddy relationship, but I did enjoy being Adam’s boy and letting him take care of me outside of bed occasionally too. The more we unpacked, the lighter my shoulders became until it felt like the mountain air had doubled my lung capacity and I was drunk on all the extra oxygen.
“Come on,” Adam said after the last of our stuff was stowed away. The afternoon sun made everything glow, including his beard and hair. He looked totally at home, the mountain man in his natural habitat. “If we follow the creek down, we’ll reach a good fishing spot.”
“You do know how to cook the fish?” I asked as he collected his gear.
“Yes, baby. I’m not gonna make you handle the fish guts. Bring the book I know you packed, and you can nap on the grassy part of the bank while I fetch dinner.”
Yup. He really was perfect. As I retrieved my book from my bag near the big, wooden bed, my stomach quivered with anticipation. I couldn’t wait for later when I could show him exactly how much this little trip meant to me.
Nineteen
Adam
“It’s hot.” Quinn scraped his feet back and forth against the dry earth. He’d found the old wooden swing near the picnic table and was sitting there to eat while I perched on the picnic table, facing him. Formal, we weren’t, but what we were was darn near perfect. Great afternoon spent lazing around and fishing, with a good catch and a fun time cooking outdoors. And Quinn was damn cute on the swing, even if he was right about the weather. It was sweltering out.
“It’s Oregon in the valley in July. Yes, it’s hot.” As soon as we’d left the coast behind, temperatures and humidity had started to climb, and I’d been grateful for the cool, clear water while fishing.
“Maybe it will cool off more once the sun finally sets, and then we can use the fire pit.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got the perfect way to cool off before then. Finish your dinner first though.” I pointed at his plate. He thought he was so clever, sitting farther away from me and moving vegetables around his plate.
“Do I get dessert if I finish the fish?” he asked, playing up his reticence.