Page 38 of Off the Grid
“Dump ’em.”
He shrugged. “They’re probably—”
“Leo, I’m dirty. I’m tired. I could use an IV drip of coffee, and I’m starting to get hangry. If I could, I would grab that bag out of your hands, stuff every one of those almonds in my mouth, and eat them in front of you. I wouldn’t even share. But that thing could’ve had rabies. It could be diseased. We don’t know. Without a hospital nearby, we can’t risk it.”
Damn, she does hate squirrels.“Okay.”
He turned the bag over and a handful of almonds dropped out.Whelp, there goes our food.He stuffed the empty plastic into his backpack and grabbed the Gatorade. There were maybe one or two sips left. He downed half and handed it to McKenzie, who finished the rest. Then he picked his stuff up off the ground—one broken phone, one wallet, one set of noise-canceling headphones, his last two magazines of ammunition. McKenzie helped, handing him the paperback that had fallen out—a Tom Clancy novel—and his gum—cinnamon, because he didn’t mind a little heat. He stuffed the charging cord for his broken phone back in, then froze when he heard McKenzie snicker.
“What?” He didn’t bother to look up.
“Nothing, it’s just a, well, an interesting juxtaposition.”
Leo turned. McKenzie wore a shit-eating grin and held her hands out. A condom rested on one palm and a set of rosary beads on the other.
“I didn’t know that was in there.”
“Which one?” Amusement was thick as honey in her tone, sickly sweet.
“The condom.” He glowered as she grinned, and snatched it from her palm. “The rosary I take everywhere.”
“Really?” Surprise colored her voice. “I didn’t peg you as religious.”
“I’m not.” He shrugged and took the rosary from her palm, a little more gently this time. He tucked the string of beads into a zippered pocket and carefully sealed it tight. “But my mom is. This was hers. It was a confirmation gift from her mother. My grandpa carved the crucifix from a tree in their backyard. She gave it to me before I left for the Middle East on my first tour. For good luck, she said. I’ve carried it with me everywhere I go ever since.”
He kept his gaze on the ground, feeling the weight of McKenzie’s stare. There was no reason to tell her, no reason she had to know. He wasn’t really sure why the explanation popped out. The more time he spent around her, the more natural it felt to open up, as though maybe deep down he’d yearned for companionship, even as he’d pushed people away. But there was no pushing her away—they were stuck with each other, whether they wanted to be or not.
“I didn’t mean to make fun,” she murmured, voice soft, vulnerable. He glanced over, eyes drawn to the spot where her lower lip was pulled nervously between her teeth. A sudden urge to kiss it loose punched through him, striking like a blow and knocking the air from his lungs. He tore his eyes away. “That’s really beautiful. And hey, maybe it’s working. I mean, divine intervention is as good a reason as any for how the hell we ended up here.”
As soon as she finished speaking, thunder crackled, booming and breaking and tearing like something trying to rip through the heavens. They both snapped their heads up, noticing for the first time the thick clouds blanketing the sky.
“Divine intervention, huh?” he teased.
McKenzie found his gaze. Her bright eyes sparkled. “It’s just a working theory.”
He shook his head and threw his bag over his shoulders. “Come on. We want to be somewhere safe by the time the storm hits.”
McKenzie held his gaze and pushed her brows together. “How far do you think we are from civilization?”
Leo had no idea.
A few miles, maybe—if they walked in a straight line. In the woods, it was hard to tell. They could’ve been moving in circles all day yesterday without realizing. The landscape blended together. Without a compass or a trail at their disposal, east became west, north became south. He’d tried to follow the arc of the sun the day before, but now with the cloud coverage, it’d be more difficult. Of course, he didn’t tell McKenzie any of that. The look in her eyes whispered faith—she believed he’d get them out of this mess. He didn’t want to give her reason to doubt him.
“Tell me about this Beau character,” he said as he turned and took a confident step forward. Leo had no idea where they were going, but he’d get there with conviction. The trick to good bullshit was dressing it up with bravado.
“Oh, Beau.” McKenzie sighed. The soles of her shoes scuffed on dirt as she hastily followed behind. The sound was music to his ears because it meant she trusted him. “He’s the only man who’s ever had my heart.”
Leo snorted.
“Don’t tell me you’re a cat person,” she retorted. “I bet you are, aren’t you?”
He was a marine. It was almost sacrilegious to not love dogs—he’d seen canine units in action firsthand. He had friends who owed their lives to dogs. But he wouldn’t knock cats either. To each his own, though he’d never tell McKenzie that. It was too much fun to ruffle her feathers. “Who doesn’t love a good pus—”
A fist whammed into his biceps, shutting him up. The edge of his lip quirked as he rubbed the spot. The woman packed a mean right hook.
“Ow.”
“I won’t have you defiling the memory of my beloved dog.” She scowled at him, which, of course, made his smile widen.
