Rolling her eyes, she headed toward the door. But suddenly, the man lounging so lazily on the bed beat her to it, and put a hand on the handle. Before she could say a word, he’d opened it for her, not attempting to hold her in.
She looked up into his eyes.
He flashed a smile that didn’t quite make it to his usual full potential. “I take it we’re done here tonight.”
“Yeah, I have to—”
He put a finger over her lips. “Don’t make up an excuse to run away. I don’t need a pretty lie.”
Fair enough. “I just have to go.”
“Did I scare you?”
Yes. He scared her by showing her the very depths of his soul, and reflecting hers right back at her. He scared her by making her feel. Her initial reaction was to offer a denial but he’d just asked for no pretty lies, so she just looked up at him.
He pretty much gave her the opposite reaction she expected. Standing there, naked, he chuckled. “Tough question, huh?”
“Yes.” There. The truth. “Care to try an easier one?”
“All right.” He stroked a strand of hair from her face. “You going to steal another of my shirts?”
“It appears so.”
“Go out with me, Emma.”
Tempted beyond belief, she looked at his mouth, wishing it was back on hers. “You should know. I’m unusually slow to get on board when it comes to these things.”
“What just happened between us didn’t feel slow. It felt like a freight train slamming into my heart.”
Hers skipped a beat at that. “You should also know that men don’t tend to hold on to me for long. I only tell you this to save you some time and effort. Give you a short cut to the exit.”
A slight smile tipped his mouth upward at her somber tone. “I don’t tend to take short cuts. I also tend to jump right in.”
“Well we both did that today.”
“Yeah, but I meant more, too.”
There was that more thing again. “I definitely don’t do more.”
“Has that ever worked out for you, the not doing more thing?” he asked.
“No.”
He just smiled, both sweet and challenging at the same time.
And sexy.
So damn sexy.
“I get that you’re a thinker,” he said gently. “You need to think, process. Analyze.”
“I do.”
“Premeditated thinking doesn’t work for me.”
“Because you jump right in.”
“That’s right. So I’m already on the page. The us page.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s okay. You go home and think. Process and analyze. Whatever you have to do.”
Whatever she had to do? Hell, she had to run far and fast. Only she couldn’t, she was stuck here in Wishful.
Yeah. She was in big trouble.
Emma dreamt about Stone, about his couch, his floor…his bed. About what he wanted from her. And she woke up hot and bothered.
Cost of processing and analyzing: two hours of sleep.
Cost of thinking: two more hours of sleep.
Cost of giving the elusive more to the insanely sexy Stone Wilder: priceless.
And something she couldn’t face, not and function properly. Already exhausted before she even began her day, she heated up one of the casseroles labeled breakfast for her and Spencer, who was embarking on a long day hike.
By himself.
“Don’t worry,” he told her, scooping more cholesterol into his bowl. “TJ mapped out the trek for me. They said I couldn’t get lost if I stayed on the trail. I’m looking forward to being by myself.”
They hadn’t talked about the fact that she’d chosen Stone over him. Nor that she’d taken two hours to come back the night before. “You won’t be by yourself,” she said. “There’ll be spiders and bears and coyotes, oh my.”
Spencer grinned. “Then come with me. Protect me.”
“Ha. Maybe if it was spa day.” She was still pining for Starbucks and Thai take-out, still missing the crowded, noisy, bustling streets, where the scents came from sidewalk vendors and exhaust, where wide open spaces were to be mistrusted.
Missing all of it.
Wasn’t she?
She wasn’t sure. The truth was, the air here was amazing, clean and fresh, and she’d saved a fortune by not buying from a menu every time she ate. Plus, she’d gotten damn good at making her own coffee.
Interesting.
She drove Spencer up to Wilder Adventures, the starting point for his trek, holding her breath on the narrow road between town and the lodge. “Damn roads out here are barbaric.”
“It’s the rains,” he said. “You’re doing much better these days.”
Better was relative, but they made it without incident. It’d rained heavily all night long, but though it’d momentarily tapered off to a light drizzle, the skies were still dark and threatening. “Are you sure about this?”
Not appearing at all bothered by the prospect that he’d likely be wet all day long, he nodded, “It’s going to be good.”
At Wilder Lodge, he got out of the truck and went to the back for his gear. Emma got out, too, looked up at the dark sky again, and shook her head. “Not too late to change your mind.”
“Not too late to come.”
“Like I said, let me know when it’s spa day, with good food service and no bears.” She pulled him in for a hug, closing her eyes when he tightened his grip. “Spence—” She didn’t want to lose him. “About you and me. I—”