Page 41 of Defending You
How…embarrassing.
“I was kidding about the tandem-bike thing, but seriously, what if we found a bike shop? We could borrow a couple of mountain bikes and pedal our way out of here. If they need a credit card, I could get one of my parents to provide one. No cameras, no cards, just…us and the forest until we reach a safe place.”
He grunted. It wasn’t a terrible idea, except that, as confident as he’d sounded when he’d told her he knew where they were, finding trails suitable for biking was a whole different matter. And off trails, they wouldn’t move any faster on bikes than they were moving on foot.
“Or,” she went on, “we could find a river, build a raft like Huck Finn. Float all the way to Maine. I mean, I’m no Tom Sawyer, but I can tie a decent knot.”
He shook his head, fighting another grin. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous is my middle name.”
Rose was her middle name, and ridiculous was the fact that he remembered that. Ridiculous was the fact that he’d ever known it.
Proof of his…yeah, the word still worked.Ridiculouscrush.
“Come on, Asher, throw me a bone. I’m doing my best here.”
He glanced at her, her strawberry-blond hair catching a stray beam of sunlight, her eyes bright despite the fear she was clearly wrestling. She was trying to help, which threw him off. He wanted to stay mad, to keep her at arm’s length, but her kindness made it impossible.
They reached a shallow creek, the water gurgling over smooth stones, and he paused to check their bearings. The forest stretched on, but he could hear faint traffic in the distance—a road, maybe a mile off. They needed a ride, but stealing another car felt like tempting fate. He fished his water bottle from his bag and handed it to her.
She took a long sip, then he finished the bottle and refilled it in the stream, using his small filter, then added iodine to kill bacteria.
“Why do you have that?”
He wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing.
“You just walk around prepared to survive in the wilderness?”
He shrugged.
“Seriously”—she nodded to the filter still sticking out from the top of his pack—“how do you have those things?”
“For such a time as this?”
She cracked a smile. “Does this happen to you a lot, getting stranded in the forest with helpless damsels?”
“You’re not helpless.” He splashed his face to clear his head, then stood, water dripping from his chin. “I always travel with essentials.”
“Me, too. Lipstick and hand cream. Not”—she waved at his filtration system—“that.”
He’d been taught to be prepared when he was a Boy Scout. He’d learned how to do it—and everything to be preparedfor—as a SEAL.
“What about a library?” Her voice was thoughtful now. “They’ve got free internet. We could use a public computer, contact Forbes without a phone. He could arrange a pickup, somewhere discreet. No cards, no trace.”
Libraries were low-key and anonymous, and nobody would bat an eye at two people using a computer. He nodded slowly, letting the idea sink in. “Actually, that might work.”
She crossed her arms, smirking. “Wow. The ‘actually’ was a nice touch.”
His mouth twitched, caught off guard. “I didn’t mean… You’re not a pro.” He hadn’t meant to insult her and wasn’t sure how to dig himself out. “It’s a good idea.”
“High praise.” She laughed, the sound carrying no malice. “I’m like a stopped clock, right twice a day.”
She’d thrown out a thousand ideas. One was bound to stick.
That wasn’t fair. She was doing better than he’d ever have predicted, better than he was in the idea-generation department. And that was a problem, because every time she surprised him, every time she flashed that smile or tossed out a quip, it chipped away at the wall he’d built around her memory.
“Let’s move. Stay sharp.”
