Archer drove. Spence rode shotgun with Joe and Finn in the backseat. It was an hour and a half drive to Big Basin Redwoods State Park and they stopped along the way for supplies.
Beer and bait.
When they got there, Archer got out of the truck and inhaled deep. The city was gone. They were in the mountains now, surrounded by ancient three-hundred-foot trees and enough nature to quiet even the busiest of minds.
The reason he came . . .
They spent the day hiking, fishing, and making increasingly ridiculous bets, the latest being that whoever caught the least amount of fish had to take a dip in the river. It was February. The river was an ice bath.
Highly motivated to stay dry, Archer caught three fish. Spence and Joe caught two each.
Finn only managed one and grumbled the entire time he was stripping down to his birthday suit, muttering dire warnings about hypothermia.
The rest of them just grinned, toasting themselves and their brilliance while Finn climbed into and out of the water in record time.
“Maybe you should get better at fishing,” Spence said to a teeth-chattering Finn.
Finn yanked his clothes back on and flipped Spence the bird.
Archer tossed more wood on the fire and shoved Finn close to it. Watching Finn lose had been fun. So was the righteous knowledge that he was the best fisherman out of all of them. But that didn’t mean he wanted Finn to die of hypothermia.
“If you’d lost,” Finn said to Spence. “You wouldn’t have had the stones to go in.”
“Oh I’ve got the stones,” Spence said. “The stones to walk over there and discover an algae on the surface. A skin-eating algae.” He smiled. “One that makes swimming unsafe.”
Finn blinked. “Huh. I didn’t think of that.”
Spence tapped his temple with a finger. “Not just a hat rack.”
The sun went down fast up here. One minute it was daylight and in the next breath, inky black night. They got more serious about the fire, drinking the beer while Archer cooked the fish. As he was doing that, Spence went through their stuff and said “what the ever loving fuck?”
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Where’s the junk food?” he asked.
“In the gray bin,” Finn said. “I personally loaded it up with chocolate, graham crackers, and macro marshmallows because last time I got the minis you guys bitched about it for two days.”
“There’s no gray bin,” Spence said. “Where is the gray bin?”
“Shit,” Finn said. “It must not have gotten in the truck.”
“We can’t go on without the s’mores,” Joe said, looking stricken. “I’ve been looking forward to them all day.”
Archer agreed. They needed s’mores. But the nearest store was thirty minutes out and they’d all had a few beers. “Too bad Google Express doesn’t deliver to Timbuktu.”
“If I’d known Finn was going to be stupid,” Spence said, “I’d have programmed my latest drone to drop the supplies right to us.”
“It’s Finn’s fault,” Joe said. “He should have to fix it.”
“How?” Finn asked. “How in the holy hell do you expect me to fix this?”
“Call Pru,” Spence suggested.
“Call her what?”
“Call her out here to bring us s’more supplies.”
Finn let out a rough laugh. “I can’t do that.”
“But you can FaceTime her from the grocery store to make sure you’re buying her the correct brand of tampons like you did last week?” Archer asked.
“Hey,” Finn said, pointing at him. “That was supposed to be our secret.”
“Call her,” Spence said.
“She’ll laugh at me and tell me to suck it up.”
“See that’s the thing,” Joe said logically. “We’re all single. We don’t have anyone to call without looking like a complete pussy. But you, you already have Pru, so who cares if she laughs at you?”
Spence nodded at this logic. So did Archer.
“Okay, but for the record,” Finn said, launching into defense mode, “I care.”
Spence pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?” Finn asked him, sounding nervous.
“Wait for it,” Spence said, and then spoke into the phone. “Pru? Finn needs you.”
“Oh my God,” Finn protested, trying unsuccessfully to grab Spence’s phone away. “Give that to me.”
Spence covered the speaker piece on his phone and flexed his muscles as he avoided Finn’s reach. “Been working out,” he whispered proudly.
“At least tell her I didn’t break my collarbone falling out of a tree,” Finn demanded.
“One time,” Joe muttered. “I only did that one time.”
“Finn needs you to bring the makings for s’mores,” Spence said to Pru. “Big marshmallows. The biggest, Pru. Enough to feed”—he looked around at the guys, counting the four of them—“eight.”
They all nodded. Double sounded good.
The last thing Elle had planned on doing Saturday night was driving up to Big Basin in the dark with Pru and Kylie to bring Finn some mysterious item he had to have. They’d tried to get Willa to come too but she and Keane had turned off their phones.
They were smart.
And probably going at it like bunnies.
Elle didn’t blame them. In fact, she was a little envious of them.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Pru said. “I’m sure you were both busy.”
Kylie laughed. “If by busy you mean staying home and trying to beat my Lumosity score, then yes, I was very busy.”
Elle was driving Finn’s vehicle because Pru didn’t have one, and also because she couldn’t find her glasses. Elle wasn’t a camper. In fact, she’d never camped. She didn’t see the appeal of sleeping on the ground or having to use the wild frontier as a bathroom. Nope, she required electricity and a flushable toilet.
They’d left the city behind long ago and she’d never seen such darkness. She leaned closer to the windshield, squinting into the black night. The road was a bitch and she didn’t want to miss the turnoff. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. You so owe us. And what are we delivering anyway?”
“It’s complicated,” Pru said noncommittally, a very large brown bag at her feet.
“Complicated how?”
Something in Pru’s silence sent impending doom through Elle’s gut. She slid another look at Pru. “He’s camping alone, right? Because that’s what you said. Even though camping alone is stupid and selfish because of the danger, and Finn isn’t either of those things.”
“Turn right!” Kylie called from the backseat. Their resident navigator had her nose practically pressed to her cell phone screen. “In twenty-five feet.”
Elle turned right and the road went from asphalt to gravel. Bumpy, rutted gravel that took every bit of her concentration for the half mile until they came to the campgrounds.
“I think half my fillings just fell out,” Kylie said.
“Campsite twenty-four,” Pru said.
Five minutes later they rounded a tight corner and came upon the correct campsite. Elle calmly parked, turned off the engine, and stared out at the rip-roaring campfire, around which sat one, two, three . . . four men-sized shapes, one of them looking suspiciously like Archer. She felt the righteous annoyance that always hit her in his presence, for him simply being a breathing human being. “Dammit, Pru.”
“It’s not what you think,” Pru said quickly.
“No? Because what I think is that you’re a big fibber,” Elle said.
“Okay, so it’s a little what you think,” Pru said, sagging in defeat. “But mostly I didn’t want to drive up here alone. I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you that Archer was here, and I really needed to deliver the s’more supplies. They were desperate.”
Even as she said it, the guys all stood up and turned toward them with varying degrees of expressivity. Finn was out-and-out grinning, clearly excited to see Pru. Spence was looking hopeful, which made sense now that Elle knew their true mission. Spence had never met a dessert he didn’t love.