Page 31 of Lost With You
Easy.
“There’s our warning.” He slapped his hands on his knees and straightened from his crouch. “We’d best get back to camp.”
Gathering his pack, he shoved the map and binoculars in and headed down the hill, listening to the scrape of her hiking boots as she followed. The currents between them were growing strong, and he wasn’t sure he could attribute them just to physical attraction anymore. Casey was smart, funny, strong, brave. Foolish thoughts swirled in his head about how things could be different this time.
They reached the campsite as the thunder rolled closer. He’d already set up the tent, so he kicked off his hiking boots and headed barefoot to the canoe, splashing into the shallow edge of the river to retrieve food and supplies out of the belly of the vessel. Casey took the gear he tossed to her and carried everything into the tent, casting glances at the sky. Once done, he waded deeper to pull a tarp stowed in the stern of the canoe over the remaining gear. On impulse, he glanced over his shoulder toward the outcropping they’d just climbed.
He shouted, “Casey,” as his lungs seized.
She paused at the bank, alarmed. “What is it?”
He beckoned. She wrestled off her boots and waded into the water. Taking her arm, he drew her to his side, nodding upriver toward the outcropping they’d just climbed.
Air hissed through her teeth. She could see it, too, the two depressions in the granite outcropping that looked like eyes. The pointed rocks set above that looked like ears. The stone owl stared in their direction, the granite face stark against a backdrop of pines.
She gasped. “We were right on top of it.”
He nodded, speech failing him though there was a lot he wanted to say. Pops would be thrilled when they returned with the news. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his siblings’ faces when he collected the bets they’d made that he’d never find any landmarks. He couldn’t wait to celebrate the discovery with his colleagues. With Garrick. With Logan. But no family or colleagues or friends were here right now. He was alone with Casey, sharing the triumph that lit her face, heart-stoppingly, mud-streaked, golden-tanned.
“Congratulations,” she whispered, “Professor MacCabe.”
He slid his arm around her, intending just a friendly side-hug. She turned into him, pressing chest to chest. Her head slid under his jaw like it was made to fit there. Her body notched effortlessly into the hollow of his. He curled his arm around her back and drew her close. Her hair smelled of woodsmoke and rain. The skin of her cheek against his throat was soft. Her legs slid against his underwater. With his other hand, he cradled the back of her head.
Rain fell around them, shooting surface ripples in merging circles. Her heart pounded, knocking against his. He flexed his fingers in her damp hair and opened his hand just where her waist sweetly curved. Moments passed, marked only by another, louder burst of thunder.
She didn’t move. “We should get out of the water.”
He didn’t want to let her go. The instinct was primitive, as primeval as the old forest they found themselves in, so far from the world. What an idiot he’d been to think he could fight this. He wanted more than just her body. He wanted to burrow into her.
A flash of lightning lit the campsite. Casey peeled a fraction away.
“To the tent,” he said, nudging her in that direction.
She looked as dazed as he felt. He followed her to the tent, sweeping up their muddy boots on the way. Once inside, he dried himself off, watching her pull out her ponytail and cover her head with a towel. She dried her hair with more vigor than necessary. When she finished, all that long, dark hair flew loose over her shoulders. She wiped her legs clean of river water with more care than necessary.
He turned on the battery-operated lantern and caught sight of the deck of cards on the tent floor. Picking them up, he started shuffling. They had a week and a half ahead of them. He couldn’t wait for the kiss he knew would happen.
“Where did we leave off?” He shifted the cards from one hand to the other. “Two-to-one in gin rummy last I remember—my advantage. Feel like making it three out of five?”
She dropped the towel into her lap. Her throat flexed as she swallowed, her eyes like pools of melting chocolate.
“We could start over with another game,” he said, as he offered the deck of cards. “Lady’s choice.”
“Okay.” She looked like a woman just roused from a long sleep. “How about strip poker?”
CHAPTER TEN
The words had barely left Casey’s lips when the cards sprayed out of Dylan’s hands and fell in a blizzard around them.
Casey stilled, shocked by her own impulse. Her thighs trembled, her heart pattered in an uneven rhythm. It felt like a year rather than ten days since she’d been fantasizing about sleeping with this guy. After their interlude in the river, having pressed her aching body against the solid wall of Dylan MacCabe, she couldn’t wait a minute longer to rub her naked skin against his.
He growled, “Say it again, Casey.”
“Strip poker,” she blurted, feeling naked already. “I’m game if you’re willing to play along—”
“You know I’m willing.”
His rough voice made her toes curl.
