Detour Ahead. Cindi Myers
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even as he continued feeling his way toward her. “We have a lot of miles to cover.”
“We needed a break.” She turned her back on him and walked even farther out on the log.
He decided he really would turn around now. What did he think he was going to do when he reached her anyway? He’d already decided giving in to the desire she stirred in him was a bad idea.
He started to pivot to face the other direction, but as he did so, he felt the log shudder, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of windmilling arms.
In an instant, he lunged forward and caught her, steadying her against him even as he fought to stay upright himself. Heart pounding, breath coming in gasps, he clung to her until they were both still. The only sounds were the rasp of his own breathing and the gurgle of the creek as it slid beneath their makeshift bridge.
She smiled up at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. “Thanks,” she said. “I guess my sense of balance isn’t much better than my sense of direction.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he asked.
She nodded. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She had movie-star eyes, dark and impossibly luminous. Looking into them, he forgot all about the miles they had to cover or the disaster they’d narrowly avoided. All his senses were focused on the feel of her in his arms. She was the stuff of bedroom fantasies and early-morning dreams.
“Are you going to stand there staring, or are you going to kiss me?”
Her voice was breathy, as beckoning as her gestures had been moments before.
His lips were on hers before she’d finished speaking. She tasted like fresh fruit and peppery watercress. She rose on tiptoe, angling her lips more fully against his, opening to him, her tongue teasing across his teeth. He slipped both hands behind her neck, his fingers sliding up into her hair as he deepened the kiss, losing himself in the sheer pleasure of the moment.
The sound of a car door slamming shattered the spell she’d cast over him. He flinched, and braced one foot behind him on the log to keep from falling. Marlee opened her eyes and blinked. Voices were approaching. “Looks like we have company,” he said.
She nodded, and slipped out of his arms, avoiding his gaze. A blush stained her cheeks the color of ripe strawberries. Still clutching her hand, he led the way off the log, but she broke away from him as soon as they were on land again, and headed for the picnic table, where she began gathering the remains of their lunch.
He stopped to collect their shoes from the bank, then followed more slowly, letting himself cool down a little. What exactly had happened back there, other than the closest thing he’d ever known to spontaneous combustion?
3
WITH SHAKING HANDS, Marlee gathered up the left-overs from their lunch and stashed them in her bag. What had she been thinking, practically jumping Craig’s bones there on that log? Sure, he was a hottie and yummy as a hot fudge sundae, but what kind of a woman throws herself at a man she’s known all of three hours? He’d think she was desperate, or cheap—or both.
She headed for the car and he came up behind her as she was arranging things in the back seat. “About what happened just now…” he began.
She whirled to face him, her face hot with embarrassment. “It didn’t mean anything,” she blurted. “I mean…it just happened. And it shouldn’t have.” She stared at the ground. This was coming out badly.
“Yeah, uh, I guess we both got a little carried away.”
She risked a glance at him and saw that he had his head down, his hands shoved in his pockets. She relaxed a little. He didn’t look like a guy who’d gotten the wrong idea. He dug a trench in the gravel with the toe of his shoe. “Look, not that it’s an excuse or anything, but it’s been a while for me and…” He shook his head. “I don’t want you to think that because I’m giving you a ride, I think you owe me anything. Because I don’t. Think that. I mean, I’m not like that.”
Something in her melted right then. It was all she could do not to throw her arms around him again. For a guy who had come on this morning like Mr. Macho, she liked this version even better. Call him Mr. Decent. How many of those did you meet anymore? “It’s okay,” she said. “I guess….” She shrugged. “I guess we could say we both did what came naturally. But that doesn’t mean it meant anything.” Except she’d been on plenty of nature walks, camping trips and day hikes before and fresh air had never affected her this way.
“Right.” He nodded and took his hands out of his pockets. Their eyes met, then they both looked away, as if afraid to focus too closely on each other just yet. “So, we both agree we’ll go on like before. As if nothing happened.”
“Right.” Should she warn him that at various times she’d also sworn off chocolate, coffee and ice cream, and hadn’t managed to stay away from any of those temptations longer than a week? But then, a week was all she needed, right?
“So, I guess we’d better hit the road if we’re going to make it to Kingsport by dark.”
He started around the car to the driver’s side, but she stopped him. “Let me drive for a while. You can take a nap.”
He shook his head. “That’s okay.”
“Oh, come on. We’ll make better time and be more alert if we take turns driving.” Besides, this was another way to keep things even between them. Not that she didn’t believe what he’d said about her not owing him any “special” favors for agreeing to give her a lift, but she didn’t want any room for doubt.
He frowned. “I thought you didn’t have a license.”
A picky detail. “Yes, but that was just bad luck. I’m not a bad driver, really.”
He shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
“Come on. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.” She spread her arms wide. “It’s a nice, straight road. What could happen?”
He stifled a yawn.
“See, you are tired!” She took a step toward him. He started to back up and bumped into the car. “I’m the only one who’s ever driven this car and I think it should stay that way.” He put his hand on the side panel, a protective gesture.
“I get it now. You’re worried I’ll hurt your precious car.”
He looked uncomfortable, but she saw she’d scored a bull’s-eye. What was it with men and their cars, anyway? “Look, if you’re tired, don’t you think the chances are greater that you’ll have an accident? Whereas I’ve already had a nap and I’m fresh and alert.” She leaned closer, almost but not quite touching him. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to your precious car.”
Confronted by her in such close quarters, he apparently decided to relent. “Okay, okay. You can drive. But only for a little while.” He held out the keys. “And no speeding. Be careful.”
She traced an X over her heart. “I promise. I’ll take it nice and easy. And you can get some rest.”
They got in the car and he pushed the seat back and reclined it slightly. She slipped on her sandals then started the engine. “See, this was a good idea,” she said.
He nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I mean, how much trouble could anybody get into way out here?”
MARLEE GRIPPED the steering wheel so tightly her fingers were practically fused to the leather. She gnawed her lower lip and tried to think calming thoughts. Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Take deep breaths. There’s no need to panic.
Except that she didn’t have a clue where she was, or even if she was headed in the right direction. She glanced over at Craig. Head back, mouth open, he snored