Page 35 of Digging Up Love
“Dining room’s straight through the back door on the right.” Alisha pointed toward the house. “Can’t miss it. But you’d better take off your boots on the porch, or it’ll be hell to pay.”
Forrest brushed dust off the front of his purple tee shirt, which readScience: Like Magic, Only Real, and gave her a lopsided smile. “You mean tracking dirt through your house isn’t the appropriate thank-you for getting our hands on a once-in-a-lifetime discovery and free lunch?”
“Speaking of free ...” Bridget stepped off the ladder into the grass, but Alisha waved her off.
“No worries. My grandpa would never let you pay. Feeding people is his passion. Plus, it’s not entirely altruistic. He knows our barbecue is addictive.” Alisha grinned.
Bridget returned her smile, then turned toward the dig. “Coming, y’all?”
Quentin held up a tape measure. “I need to finish these measurements. You guys go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Suit yourself,” Dev said. “We’ll try and save you some.” He climbed up the ladder and strode off toward the house. The others followed with a wave to Alisha.
She should go. But being so near Quentin again, her heart thrummed with the same yearning that had awoken the second she’d laid eyes on him back in March. Except now all the words they’d exchanged filled the pit, muddying the waters.
Flirting in the kitchen on a rainy afternoon felt like a lifetime ago. And chatting on a screen made her bold. But real-life Dr.Harris, in his element? Way out of her league.
Get in the house, Blake. None of this is for you.But she didn’t budge. Instead, her eyes roamed over Quentin’s long frame. Frowning in concentration, he used one knee as a prop for the notebook, his other leg stretched out in the dirt, measuring tape abandoned next to his boot. He paused, raised his pencil to his mouth, and bit down gently on the eraser.
A low noise escaped Alisha’s lips, and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Quentin’s head snapped up, surprise washing over his features. “Oh, you’re still here?”
“Yeah, just, um ...” She dropped her hand and crossed her arms. Crossed her ankles, too, for good measure. “Just checking things out.”
His face broke into a wide and knowing grin.
Oh Lordy.
Yes, it was areallygood thing she hadn’t been able to see him during their chats. A flash of him hovering at the edge of the kitchen, rain drenched and adorably hesitant, sprang to mind with terrible timing. She unwound her legs like a newborn foal, rocking sideways in the process. “The dig. Checking the dig out. It looks so different already.”
His face fell ever so slightly, but he nodded and pushed himself to stand, dusting off his hands. “We’ve been busy. There’s so much here. It’s remarkable any of this was preserved.”
Alisha cleared her throat. “I can’t believe no one ever discovered any dinosaurs in Illinois until now.”
Quentin nodded, the wattage on his smile returning. “Wild, right?”
Goose bumps pricked her arms. “It really is!”
Arms crossed, he tilted his head.
“What?”
He pressed a thumb to his full lower lip, and Alisha willed herself not to melt.
“Sorry, it’s just ... I get that you’re excited because we found these fossils on your grandparents’ land. But most people aren’t so interested in dinosaurs.”
Should she do this? Too late—her mouth was already moving, coaxed into motion by Quentin’s puzzled smile.
“So, full disclosure, I may or may not have founded aJurassic Parkfan club in my basement as a kid.” Why-oh-why-oh-why had she volunteered that privileged information after keeping it under wraps for months?
In too deep, she blundered on. “I wasn’t allowed to seeJurassic Parkat the same age as most of my friends. My parents were worried I’d have nightmares. In their defense, I had a lot of nightmares, but not until later. And not because of scary movies.”
Say less, say less.
“Anyway, I’d worked the movie up to such a big deal. Forbidden fruit, so to speak. When I finally sawJurassic Parkat a sleepover, I became low-key obsessed. I made my sister secretary of the club and everything.” The fossilized skeleton in her closet, and she just word-vomited it to the hottest man she’d ever met.Why? Why? Why?
Flailing, she fought the dumpster fire with the gasoline of more words. “I always fantasized about marrying Dr.Grant someday, though Ian Malcolm was my dream guy in the looks department.”
After her final insane confession, two facts slammed into her brain with the force of dual torpedoes:
