Chapter 4

Hot wind blew through the open faceplate of my helmet as we raced across the side of a hill. The handlebars jittered as the ATV bounced across rain-formed ruts and loose rocks. Rachael kept pace next to me. I could see the shine of excitement in her dark, exotic eyes, and her concentration as she controlled her ATV.

The sight of a slight, young girl riding a four-wheeler was quite something. It was so different. I enjoyed watching her.

Cresting the hill, we slowed and cautiously rode down the slope, entering denser firs and beautiful oaks, and finally arrived back at our picnic spot. Silence was wonderful after the loud, full-throated roar of ATVs.

Rachael dismounted and pulled her helmet off, grinning broadly. She placed the helmet on the seat and ruffled her curly black hair. It sprang out, full and thick, glossy from perspiration at her hairline.

Pulling my helmet off, I took a moment to inhale deeply. The air was clean, pure, and scented with evergreen trees - wonderful. I wondered how anyone could live in smog-polluted Los Angeles. I knew I couldn’t.

Before I had the picnic blanket spread, Rachael had removed her steel-tipped black boots and socks and was wiggling her toes.

“I love riding the ATV,” she announced. “Are there other places we can explore?”

“There are lots of places. There’s a spot high up in the mountains that has a hundred mile view southeast. When the sun dips towards the horizon, air becomes crystal clear and it’s amazing.”

“Will you show me?”

“It’s a dangerous ride. Perhaps when you’ve mastered the ATV.”

“Aw! C’mon, Gramps! Be a rebel! Live a little!” She laughed brightly. “I’ll give you a kiss if you do!”

I smiled and reminded her, “Yesterday you told me I could kiss you anytime I wanted, young lady.”

“I’ve changed my mind now I know how much you like kissing me.”

“How very female of you,” I observed.

“That’s right! It’s a girl’s prerogative to change her mind. What did you bring for lunch?”

“Sandwiches. Salami and Velveeta cheese spread.”

“Not! What did you really bring?” she asked. “Have you ever gone camping?”

“Fried bologna sandwiches with sliced potatoes,” I said, pulling out cans of ice cold beer and soda.

“Yuck! So have you ever gone camping?”

“Yes.”

“Will you take me camping?”

“I don’t know.”

Rachael grinned. “I’ll tell you what color panties I’m wearing if you say yes.”

“White cotton boy-short style with small blue and red flowers.”

Her eyes opened wide. “How did you know?”

“I saw you this morning in a camisole and panties.”

“You were spying on me!” she accused.

“No I wasn’t. You were going to the bathroom.”

“Well, you’re wrong. So, take me camping. Please?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Kay. What’s for lunch?”

“Herring and fried onion sandwiches.”

Rachael laughed. She seemed very happy.

We ate lunch - ham and Swiss on toasted crusty sliced bread with spicy arugula and aioli mayo. Rachael begged me to take her camping until I promised to consider it.

Heat finally became too much. “Let’s swim,” I suggested, draining my second beer.

“Kay!”

I anticipated a wonderful show and felt a stir of excitement.

Rachael stripped, revealing a simple yellow and blue bikini. Not what I’d hoped for. She noticed my expression.

“It was your idea, so don’t give me that frowny face. C’mon, let’s swim.”

She entered the lake as I undressed. Knee high in water, she dove in giving me a flash of a very nice looking butt.

While I wished my granddaughter had worn plain undies, I’d made a mature and modest choice by wearing swimming trunks. I’d made a mistake. Tight boxer briefs would have been less revealing.

After swimming and playfully dunking each other, an activity that gave me the opportunity to touch Rachael’s bare skin, we relaxed and ate lunch. Evaporating wetness brought with it cooling relief from the heat and, after consuming three beers, lethargy arrived. With lunch over, I stretched out on my back. Rachael did the same next to me, her hand shading her eyes as she studied the azure sky. Occasional white cotton ball clouds passed slowly.

It was relaxing. We chatted. At one point, Rachael made a comment about wishing her mother could see this place and I put my palm on her thigh, rubbing slightly.

“Maybe one day she will,” I told her.

My hand stayed on her bare thigh. It changed the course of my thoughts, bringing awareness of how slender and firm her legs were, and how silky her café au lait skin was, and how warm she was. Rachael’s legs reminded me how young she was, and that appealed to me strongly. I caressed the top of her thigh slowly until the first tingle of blood began to flow south, threatening an erection.

When I removed my hand, Rachael rolled onto her side to face me, rising onto her elbow. She moved closer, looking down at my face, and smiled softly. Her dark exotic eyes studied mine, then studied my mouth.