Page 51 of Stolen Goods
“Hi,” she said, gaining the ranger’s attention. Her voice didn’t waver even as the heat in her chest spiked, and she stared directly in his eyes—doing the one thing Thad told her not to, but in this moment, it felt right. Felt expected, like doing anything else would be odd. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?”
“Sure, miss,” he said, nodding. Then his eyes narrowed. He studied her face, brows pushing together, head tilting slightly to the side. “You look like—”
“Zooey Deschanel?” Addy interrupted, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I get that a lot. But like, a smaller, slightly rounder version.”
“What can I help you with?” He shifted his weight and leaned a little closer, still uncertain. “Are you okay?”
The concern in his tone was obvious. Addy ignored it, bringing a wide smile to her lips. “Of course. My husband and I, ugh, we’re such idiots. We forgot to get a camping spot, and I saw that they were all full, so we’re not sure where to sleep. I was wondering if you had any ideas? We have a tent and all the right gear, just nowhere to go.”
“Oh.” He blinked, and immediately the suspicion vanished from his face. This was a problem he’d heard a million times before. An easy fix. A solution he could roll off the tongue with hardly a thought. “Well, yeah, the campsites fill up quick. A lot of people don’t realize how far in advance you have to reserve them, and how fast the first-come, first-served spots fill up. What I usually recommend, if you have the proper gear, is to go outside the national park. A lot of people don’t realize that camping at Kaibab, the national forest you drove through to get to the park, is free. You don’t need a permit the way you do here. You can set up camp pretty much anywhere.” He paused to look at her sundress, clearly not ideal hiking attire. “Though, for those with limited experience, we recommend sticking close to the trails and designated areas. For safety, of course.”
“Of course,” Addy agreed, nodding along enthusiastically. “And would any of those areas have a view? I just…” She paused to gaze longingly at the canyons, letting a little bit of truth come out. Didn’t the best lies always have a little bit of realness to them? “I’ve been waiting my whole life to come to the Grand Canyon, and the idea of sleeping with a view…” She sighed, shaking her head, then turned back to the ranger. “Well, that’s the dream, isn’t it?”
- 19 -
Thad
“Where are we going?” Thad drawled.
He hated surprises. Loathed them. In his line of work, surprises were bad—to be avoided at all costs. The name of the game was to plan for every alternative, to envision every possibility, to never be taken off guard. Yet, when Addison had walked back to the car with a shit-eating grin across her lips, telling Thad she had one, he stupidly agreed to go along with it. She’d seemed so proud, and so peppy, he didn’t want to burst her bubble. Now, they were deep in the woods, driving a road to God only knew where, as the sun made a rapid descent toward the ground.
“We’re almost there. It should be right around the— Oh! There it is!” She pointed enthusiastically out the windshield, but all he saw was an old metal tower that looked about one windstorm away from toppling over.
“There what is?” He pulled over by the side of the dirt road, in what appeared to be a makeshift parking lot, though there wasn’t another car or soul around.
“The surprise!” Her joy was infectious, like glitter spilled across a wood floor, sinking through every crack and making the dark shadows shine. “A place where we can enjoy the view, together, without worrying about the crowds. The ranger said it’s much sturdier than it looks.”
“You sure about that?” He arched a brow.
Addison looked up at the metal structure and swallowed. “Of course.”
Thad stared at her.
She stared right back.
“Oh, come on.” Addison finally broke. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid. It’s only about an hour until sunset—if we want to go, we have to go now.”
“Fine, fine,” Thad said.
Addison vaulted from the car and took off across the grass, leaving Thad little choice but to follow. They passed a guardhouse that appeared to be empty, walked under an old trail marker, and started to climb. And climb. And climb. The metal steps were steep, almost like ladders, with grates that gave glimpses of the ground far, far below. The tower lacked walls, so the wind whipped against their skin, cool yet welcome. Addison used one hand to clutch at her skirt and the other to hold on for dear life.
“I’m not looking, I promise,” Thad teased, though he had inadvertently gotten a glimpse of pink lace panties the last time he’d glanced up. The sight almost sent him reeling over the edge as it burned into his mind. He’d kept his gaze down after that, studying his feet and the steps, meaning he had no idea how far they’d climbed or how far left they had to go. Not until he heard Addison groan.
“Oh no!”
“What?” Thad asked, keeping his eyes on the ground a hundred feet below, pausing halfway up the current stretch of steps.
“The little cabin up top is closed. There’s no way in.”
He shrugged. “That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she complained, using a tone he wasn’t used to, something dejected and dismayed, as though a hundred little dreams were hanging on this moment, and now they were all crashing down to the tree line below.
“Addison,” Thad said, cautiously lifting his gaze. He froze when it landed on the horizon. “Addison, look.”
“What?” she muttered.
Thad quickly climbed to the platform where she stood. They didn’t need to break into the cabin at the top of the watchtower. Where they were—it was enough. It was more than enough. Thad gently placed his palms on her shoulders and spun her around, smiling at her sharp intake of breath. They were in their own world, floating above the trees, with miles and miles of forest splayed out before them, stretching as far as the eyes could see. The canyon glistened in the distance like a river of molten amber. The rays of the setting sun turned the rock to flame, igniting the horizon, so dazzling and brilliant against the darkening blue it was impossible to look away.
