Page 4 of Lost With You
“Let’s do this, MacCabe.” She looked up into his sun-bronzed face. “I’ll be your new partner.”
CHAPTER TWO
“What?”
Dylan hadn’t heard that right. He was sure of it. It wasn’t possible that this gorgeous brunette had just offered to save his expedition—and his sorry ass.
“You heard me.” She hung on to the strap of her laptop. “I’m offering to be your partner.”
“Just like that?”
“I’m a freelancer.” Her lips, slick with glossy lipstick, pursed in a fetching way. “My schedule is fluid. Right now, I don’t have any other assignments lined up.”
Dylan took a few steps back, his mind reeling. Had his family set him up? No, not possible. He hadn’t told his siblings about Garrick dropping out of the expedition, saving that phone call for after he’d worked off some frustration on the felled pine in the backyard. His siblings loved to spring blind dates on him—and, man, this one was a head-turner—but they weren’t such assholes to plan a prank before the big launch. He’d been busting his balls to accomplish this adventure foryears,and they knew no woman could cut through that fog.
This one could give it a go, though. Her thick mane of hair fell to her pale shoulders, and those half-lidded eyes held secrets he couldn’t quite read. Only one thing was for sure: She didn’t have a clue what she’d just offered. This excursion wouldn’t be a pleasant hike in the woods or glamping in the wild. She wasn’t a mountain woman, that much was clear. A slim gold chain glinted against her sleeveless silk shirt. Pearl stubs gleamed in the lobes of her ears. Polish painted her fingernails. And didn’t journalists spend their time behind desks writing about thingsotherpeople experienced, rather than jumping into the fray themselves? Yet here she was, offering to slip into Garrick’s place as easily as she’d slipped into his head. Like he hadn’t been fantasizing since she’d come around the corner of the cabin about a more enjoyable way to work off frustration than cutting firewood.
“No.” Dylan turned to the map, shoving the stones off the corners so it would curl closed. “Out of the question.”
“Why? I want the assignment, and you need a partner.” She spread her hands. “It’s the perfect solution.”
“You ever canoe?”
“I’ve kayaked. As for canoes, I paddled around a lake or two when I was a kid. How hard can it be?”
“Harder than you think when you’re at it all day. How about deep-woods camping? Ever done that?”
“I’ve…camped.”
“Where there are bears, coyotes, poison ivy, snakes?”
Annoyance rippled her brow.
“My point is made.” He’d had enough frustration for one day. He strode toward the front door. “I thank you for your offer, Casey, but I’ll see you out.”
She followed him. “I can learn all that, MacCabe—”
“This isn’t for greenhorns.”
“I’m not exactly a greenhorn. Joining you on the expedition means I can write about it from an insider’s angle. That’ll increase our chances of getting you on the home page.”
“It isn’t worth it.” He stepped out onto the porch, where the cicadas screamed in the trees, and turned to face her. “Not if you end up dead.”
She crossed her arms as the screen door slammed shut behind her. “Getting dramatic, are we?”
“Your editor didn’t tell you the whole story.”
He took a step back from her, away from the teasing scent that reminded him of kittens and blankets, away from the way the sunlight made her skin gleam. She’d be more of a distraction than either of his other partners, that much was sure. His first choice for a partner, Logan, an emergency room doctor who’d worked for Doctors Without Borders, was used to mosquitoes and rough living. His second choice, Garrick, spent his free time rock-climbing and BASE jumping. Both men were friends from college. They’d shared dorm rooms, tents, backpacking excursions…and lately, a solemn commitment to keep tabs on one another. He was comfortable partnering with his friends. Taking on the wilderness brought out the pith of people. It wasn’t something to do with beautiful strangers.
She said, “I know what you’re thinking.”
Like hell she did. She’d be scrambling back into that rusty tub of a vehicle if she could see the fantasy flickering in his mind.
You think,” she said, tilting her chin, “that I can’t handle the physical demands of the journey.”
He wasn’t thinking that at all. He’d gotten an eyeful of those toned arms and rounded calves. She was an athlete herself, but sure, he’d lob back the challenge. “Garrick Kane can bench-press two hundred pounds. How many pounds can you manage?”
Her non-answer was answer enough.
