Free Boyfriend for Hire: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance (Escort Files Book 1) by Nina Strych

spot they recommended. The one from the book we both liked. Really, there’s plenty of choices. We’ve completely gone off the plans we made, so we might as well just pick what we want. What do you feel like?”
    Her martini glass covered legs shifted on the couch as she brought up both feet and tucked her toes into the gap between the cushions. She sipped, then said, “You feel like walking? I think I’d like to see the trail. They say the birds and the views are amazing. Maybe that trail to the petroglyphs?”
    That did sound good to him. As per his handler’s instructions, he’d brought good shoes for it. And he’d never seen anything like those petroglyphs. There was actually a lot on this island to explore. “Do you have boots?”
    She nodded and said, “I haven’t used them in a while, but I’ve got them. My little pack too.”
    He slapped his hands against his thighs and said, “Then let’s do that. I’ll go get ready and load up on supplies. Water and such. That okay?”
    “Perfect.”
     

Twelve
    She was going to die. Amy was sure of that. Either from the heat or from the pain shooting up her legs from her feet. The trail was beautiful and the petroglyphs had been amazing, giving her the feeling that she was connecting to some past person intent on leaving their mark.
    But now she was going to die. And it might be from embarrassment.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, sinking down onto a stone by the side of the trail. She sighed, then groaned when the pressure of walking finally eased. She balanced her feet so that only her heels connected with the ground. The pain retreated, but left just enough of itself behind to make sure she knew what she would get if she tried to stand again.
    Mike rushed over and dropped his pack, kneeling in front of her. He wiped his forehead with his short sleeves and said, “Tell me what’s wrong.” He glanced over her, as if looking for her injury.
    Though it was hot and he was flushed from heat, he was otherwise entirely unaffected by the rigorous hike. It made her feel even more inadequate, but what had she been thinking in the first place? She knew better. After spending so many years indoors, her only exercise the yoga she made herself do twice a week, she was in no shape for a hike. Not her feet anyway.
    She choked back her humiliation and said, “My feet. It feels like knives when I step.”
    “Knives?” he said, glancing down at her feet and touching her ankle. “That’s not good.” He got a sort of speculative look and asked, “When’s the last time you actually wore these boots?”
    “It’s been a while,” she admitted.
    “How long a while?” he prodded, giving her a sympathetic look that made her want to cry even more.
    “A few years.”
    He sighed and leaned back, taking in the long sloping ground they would need to cross before they reached the car. He cupped her kneecap gently, which made her pain cross wires with the pleasure of his touch. She took in a long breath and leaned back on the rock, readying herself for what was no doubt going to be a long nightmare of hobbling back to the car. She wondered if taking off her shoes would make it better or worse.
    Mike gave her knee a quick squeeze and then smiled. “Good thing I’m an excellent pack horse. I’ll carry you.”
    She jerked her knee from under his hand and leaned even further back, horrified. “No, absolutely not.” She didn’t want him actually feeling the evidence of how many carb-filled breakfasts and lunches she’d had over the past years. The very idea was almost enough to give her hives.
    Plopping down on the ground at the base of her rock, he looked up at her and said, “Well, then we’ll just wait until you feel like going on. We can talk.”
    Oh god, that was even more horrifying. She would sit here and sweat while there was no one else around to provide any distraction at all. Sweat, stink, and be lame.
    None of this was good. Would being carried off the trail or hobbling