Chapter 24
Ishould be tired. Exhausted, even.
Wes and I stayed up until ten, watching the stars put on a show in the desert sky, then putting on our own show between the sheets until after midnight. But when I wake up at six a.m., I’m practically vibrating with energy.
I bounce out of bed, donning my fedora before I even start the water for coffee.
Because today is a day for Lady Gray, a sunny, clear, gorgeous day, perfect for treasure hunting.
As soon as the coffee’s ready and the toast is browning in the toaster oven, I throw back the privacy curtain on the bed and announce in my best British accent, “Up we go, darling. Time and tide wait for no man. Or woman. Carpe diem and all that!”
Wes blinks up at me from his pillow, smiling. “Nice hat.”
Tipping the brim lower over one eye, I bat my lashes, continuing in my “Lady Gray” voice, “Thank you, darling. But compliments will get you nowhere this morning, I’m afraid. I’m after a different sort of treasure than the one between your legs.”
Wes’s snort becomes a cough and then a laugh. When he can finally draw a clear breath, he says, “Thank you? I think? I mean, at least you called it a treasure. Even if you don’t have time for it in your busy schedule at the moment.”
Clucking my tongue, I shoot him a thumbs-up. “Absolutely. A treasure indeed.”
His gaze darkens. “Nice accent. Any chance you might talk dirty to me like that later? If I’m a good boy?”
Crawling over the rumpled covers on my side of the bed, I come to hover over him on my hands and knees. “Dirty talk isn’t for good boys. Dirty talk is for boys who are deliciously naughty.”
“I think I can manage that,” he says, his fingers curling around my wrist, sending a sizzle across my skin. But sizzling will have to wait until later. We should get going before the sun gets higher and besides…delaying satisfaction can be fun.
“Oh, I bet you can. Later.” I bend, teasing the tip of my nose against his as I add, “Now, stop flirting, get up, and get dressed before I feed your toast to the ferret.”
He grunts. “I’m up, cruel temptress.” He swats at my ass, but I easily dodge his hand, laughing as I bounce off the bed. I fetch Freya’s chicken chunks and mealworms from the fridge, filling her bowl and setting it on the floor beside the door.
Wes pops into the bathroom. After a few moments, I hear the water turn on in the sink and call out in my normal voice, so he knows I mean business, “Don’t shave. We don’t have time and I like you scruffy.”
He opens the door, shaving cream already on his cheeks. “You’re bossy this morning.”
I smile. “I’m bossy every morning. You just don’t know me that well yet.”
“I know you,” he says, in a low, lovely voice that makes me feel warm all over. “Just let me wash this off, then, and I’ll be ready for breakfast.”
“Almond butter or peanut butter?” I ask.
“Surprise me,” he says, bending to splash water on his face.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, we’ve eaten, double-checked our gear bags, set up an obstacle course and toy area for Freya to keep her entertained while we’re gone, and Wes is pulling our bikes from the storage area in back.
“Do you think she’ll be cool enough inside?” I ask, fretting as I glance up at the cloudless sky. It’s beautiful, but once the sun gets a little higher, it will be baking the top of the camper for most of the day. The trees on the right side of our spot won’t provide shade until the sun starts to set.
“I have the air conditioning set to seventy-five,” he says, collecting our helmets before shutting the storage door. “If it gets any hotter than that, it’ll kick on and keep her cool.”
I lean into him, looping my arms around his neck. “So prepared. I love it.”
“I also packed extra protein bars and iodine pellets in case we need more water and can’t find a safe source out in the wild.” He draws me closer, his hands settling above the curve of my ass in a way that feels just right. “How sexy am I now?”
“Really fucking sexy,” I purr, teasing my nails up the back of his neck into his hair. “I mean, if we weren’t already outside with the camper all locked up…”
“It can be unlocked in five seconds,” he says, making me grin.
“You’re a sex fiend.”
“Only for you, Lady Gray,” he says, kissing me slow and deep, his tongue stroking against mine. His hands drag up from my hips, molding to my ribs, his thumbs brushing back and forth beneath my breasts as the kiss deepens. By the time he finally pulls back, my panties are soaked, and I’m thinking maybe a ten-minute delay wouldn’t be so awful, after all.
“Nope, off we go, intrepid explorer,” he says when I suggest it, grinning as he plucks my fedora from my head and sets the helmet down in its place.
I narrow my eyes. “You did that on purpose. To torture me a little.”
His smile widens. “But just a little. Now, for a serious question. Where to put our fedoras while we’re cycling?”
In the end, we decide on strapping our hats gently under the top flaps on our backpacks and set out from the campground just as the morning sun clears the top of the bluffs in the distance. We could have cut at least an hour off our biking if we’d driven to another nearby park before setting out, but we already had our campsite set up and agreed that leaving straight from the camper felt like more of an adventure.
By the time we’ve been cycling for nearly two hours, however, my nether regions are demanding to know what the hell I was thinking, and my trembling quadriceps aren’t too thrilled either.
“Ow,” I mutter, wincing as I swing off my bike in the shade of a small rock formation. We’re not far from our final turn, the one that will lead us the last mile up into the foothills, where Butch Cassidy’s treasure is alleged to be hidden in the sprawling cave systems beneath.
But honestly, the thought of getting back on my bike anytime soon isn’t appealing. I waddle, slightly bowlegged, back and forth in the shade, sipping from my water bottle. The movement eases the ache, but I know I’ll be right back where I started as soon as I reboard my torture device.
Wes makes a considering sound low in his throat. “Saddle sore?”
“Very,” I say, grimacing as I turn back to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize my crotch needed to be in shape to bike long distances.”
“Your crotch is in incredible shape,” he says, pushing on when I arch a wry brow. “But I know what you’re saying. This is my fault, too. I forgot how sore you can get the first time back on a bike after a long break.” He glances around. “Want to lock up here and walk the rest of the way?”
My shoulders relax a little. “You wouldn’t mind?”
He shakes his head. “Not at all.” He grins. “My crotch could use a break, too.”
I hum, playing up the worry in my voice as I say, “Oh, no. What if both our crotches are in such bad shape by the time we get back to the camper that we have to abstain from our usual festival of carnal delights?”
He laughs as he shakes his head. “Festival of carnal delights. I like that.”
“I do, too, but sometimes the mind is willing but the flesh is weak.”
He steps in, gripping my hip in that possessive way that drives me wild. “Ice packs. I put them in the freezer last night in case one of us was sore after the ride today.”
My lips hook up on one side. “Oh, yeah? So, we’re going to put ice packs on our nether regions? Sounds…unpleasant.”
“Not as unpleasant as going a night without fucking you,” he says, sending a different sort of ache tingling in to mix with the bruised feeling between my legs.
I tip my face closer to his, murmuring, “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make me want you without even trying?”
“I’m always trying,” he says, kissing me slow and sweet this time.
When he pulls back, I sigh and whisper, “Yep, that’s just what I needed. Now, I’m ready to hike.”
We find a rock thin enough to wrap our locks around its base, but tall and heavy enough that no one will be able to move it and leave our bikes behind, setting off up the trail into the mountains in the mid-morning sun. Thankfully, we reach the top of the first rise just as the heat is starting to build and step into the entrance to one of the more well-known caves to cool off in the shade as we eat our lunch.
Then, it’s just a matter of deciding where to explore first.
Reinvigorated by our meal and the excitement of being so close to our prize, I bounce on my toes. Wes spreads out the paper map we were given at the ranger’s station last night when we checked in and bought our caving permits.
He points to the largest black dot on the mountain. “We’re here, at the entrance to Smugglers Notch. If we have time later, we might want to come back to this one. There are supposed to be handrails on the path leading down to the main cavern and motion-activated lights so you can look around at the rock formations.”
“Totally,” I say, “sounds like fun. But we should probably head farther afield first. It sounds like all the caves on this side of the mountain have a good amount of foot traffic. Surely, if there were treasure to find here, someone would have found it by now.”
“True, but…” Wes points to the entrance of another fairly well-known cave about a half mile from our current location. “I was thinking about Devil’s Roost last night. I know we want to try a system that hasn’t been explored as much, but the Roost is the only cave mentioned by name by any of Butch Cassidy’s gang when they were interrogated by the police. And it opens up on the other side of the mountain, not far from the lesser-known systems.”
I nod. “So, if we don’t find anything in there, we can move on to poking around somewhere else. Sounds good.” I glance up at him, bobbing my brows. “And probably less of a chance of running into a colony of cranky bats in a place people frequent more often.”
“But if the brochure warnings are to be believed, we’re going to run into some sooner or later.” His eyes flash. “I can’t wait.”
“Me, either,” I say, smiling. “I’m glad we’re logical people who are scared of credible threats like clowns and leprechauns instead of silly things like bats and rabies.”
He nods and winks. “Thank God. But the bats won’t bother us if we don’t bother them, and we both have headlamps. If we see anything sketchy, we can always turn around and head back the way we came.”
Sobering, I agree, “Totally, and I think we should plan on playing it safe. Yes, I have a lust for adventure, but I’m more excited about living to see another day. And to eat the yummy stir-fry I’m going to make you tonight.”
“And Freya’s depending on us to come home,” he says.
Touched by the fact that my pet is on his mind, I lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He smiles as I pull away, his voice soft, “What was that for?”
“For worrying about my little girl.”
“She’s a cutie,” he says. “And we’ve come a long way since she tried to bite my dick off.”
Laughing, I agree, “You have.”
But not nearly as far as Wes and I have come.
Just a few days ago, we were barely speaking. Now…
Now, he feels like a member of my team, a person I can trust with my life, and the only man I want making me tingle for the foreseeable future.
I lift a hand, cupping his scruffy cheek for a beat, on the verge of saying things I shouldn’t. Feeling things I shouldn’t. It’s only been a few days. It’s too soon to tell him that I’m falling in love with him. But maybe by the next time we head off on an epic adventure…
We’ve already started talking about reworking our summer plans to go hiking together. The fact that he isn’t the slightest bit apprehensive about heading out into the wilderness alone with me for two weeks speaks volumes.
So does the warmth in his gaze as he leans into my touch. “I have so much fun with you,” he says softly.
“Me, too,” I say, the back of my nose stinging a little. “With you.”
But what higher compliment is there in the world than to be told that you bring someone joy? What are we here for if not to lighten the load for each other with jokes, fun, and affection?
I lean in, kissing the tip of his nose before pulling back with a laugh. “Okay! Let’s do this. I told Freya I’d buy her a jewel-studded collar if we find treasure.”
He chuckles. “She’d look swanky in a jewel-studded collar. But I’d prefer you in one. And nothing else.”
Cocking my head as I pull on my pack, I murmur, “If that’s what you want to spend your treasure money on, I wouldn’t complain.”
Laughing and teasing, we step into the sun, the strongest I’ve felt on my skin since last summer, making me grateful we’re headed back into the shade soon. There’s only so much sunscreen can do when you’re bone white from being indoors all winter.
We reach Devil’s Roost in about twenty minutes and pause for a beat in its ominous shadow.
“Well, I guess we know why it’s called Devil’s Roost,” I say, scanning the large, horn-like formations framing the entrance.
“Scared?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, but there’s a vibe here, right? Do you feel it? Something a little…off? Kind of like the forest last night?”
He pauses, lifting his nose as if scenting the air. “It definitely feels wilder out here. Like no humans have been this way in a while.”
I shiver as a cold breeze brushes across my skin and frown. Where is a breeze like that coming from on an eighty-five-degree day? When I realize it’s wafting from inside the cave, I shiver again. “I think we should put on another layer.”
Wes nods. “Our waterproof jackets, I think. It could be damp in there, too. And we can always stop and add a sweatshirt underneath later if it gets colder as we descend.”
“Descend?” I squeak, wondering if maybe I’m a little afraid of tightly enclosed spaces, after all.
“The cave drops about two hundred feet before leveling out as you start toward the other side of the mountain.” Wes pulls his zip-up jacket from his pack and slips it over his head, tugging it down around his hips. “The forum I was reading last night after you went to sleep said the ground is pretty uneven, so it’s good we wore hiking boots.”
I frown as I slip on my own jacket. “You did more research last night? You should have woken me up. I would have helped.”
He smiles as he pulls out our headlamps, stored in the front pocket of his larger pack. “You were already snoring. I didn’t want to interrupt your rest.”
I prop my hands on my hips with a huff. “I don’t snore.”
“Except when you do,” he says, his grin widening.
I huff again. “No, I don’t! If I did, someone would have told me by now. I have slept with other men, you know. All night long, sometimes for years and years at a time.”
His eyes narrowing and his smile falling away, he nods. “I know. And I’m jealous of every single one.”
My lips twitch, my irritation at being falsely accused of a crime fading. “You are?”
“Very, very jealous,” he says, bending to kiss me before whispering against my lips, “And it was a cute snore. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
I glare up at him, fighting a smile. “I’m not embarrassed. Because I don’t snore, a fact I will prove by recording myself sleeping every night for a week once I get home. And when I prove to you that I am snore-free, I’m going to expect an apology.”
His lips curve. “And when you realize I’m right, I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so.’ At least not more than once or twice.”
I wrinkle my nose, cursing beneath my breath. “I snore? I really do?”
“Come on, woman. We find enough treasure and we can afford to buy you and Freya both jeweled collars and a CPAP machine for your cute little snoring habit.”
Groaning and laughing, I follow him up to the cave entrance. “Ugh, no. I don’t want a CPAP machine. I dated a guy who had one of those when I was younger. It’s like sleeping next to Darth Vader.”
“I think they’re quieter now. Technology advances pretty quickly with things like that. Speaking of technology…” Wes passes my headlamp over and slips his on. “Looks like the path dips down and things get dark right away. We’re going to want these.”
“Right.” I ease the lamp on, tightening the strap until it feels snug but not too snug. Then I pull in a deeper breath and ask, “Ready?”
“Ready.” Wes flicks his lamp on.
I do the same and start across the rocky terrain behind him, doing my best to ignore the anxiety prickling at the back of my neck. It’s just human instinct to feel anxious in tight, dark places. This is my ancient lizard brain trying to keep me safe from saber-toothed cats and dire wolves, nothing to logically be afraid of.
“Did you know that dire wolves were real?” I ask as we start down a steeper section of the path, bracing ourselves on the cool, but thankfully dry cave wall.
“Like from Game of Thrones?” Wes asks.
“Yeah. They were real. Lived in prehistoric times. In caves. They had a bite force like…thirty times more intense than a modern wolf’s. They could snap horses in half with one bite.”
Wes grunts. “Be careful. That flat rock there is loose.”
“Got it.”
“Well, that’s terrifying, but weren’t horses smaller in prehistoric times?”
I frown, racking my memory. “I’m not sure. Maybe?”
“I think they were. Horses were tiny, but sloths were enormous. As big as an elephant with long claws and the kind of teeth that make scientists think they could have been carnivores. Or at least omnivores open to eating a tasty human if they came across one taking a nap in the forest.”
“Aw, no, I hate that,” I say, my grip tightening on a sturdy rock sticking out of the wall as I follow Wes down a nearly three-foot drop. “Sloths are so cute. I don’t want to think of them murdering my ancestors.”
“It wouldn’t have been murder, just survival. The circle of life.”
“Speaking of the circle of life, Chase just realized where pork chops come from,” I say. “He was devastated. He loves his cousin Theo’s pig, Pippa Jane, so much, Mel’s afraid he’s going to make their entire family swear off meat of all kinds.”
Wes makes a sympathetic sound. “Poor kid. I remember figuring that out when I was little. I didn’t connect the dots until I was a lot older than four, though.”
“He’s a genius,” I say, smiling. “And the sweetest little man. I’ve never met a kid that young with so much empathy. He can’t stand to see anything hurting, whether it’s human, animal, or that poor Monstera plant I keep nearly killing in the front of the shop. I just love that kid.”
“Me, too,” Wes says. “I’m a lucky uncle. My niece and nephew are amazing little people. It gives me hope that humanity is getting better. Kinder.”
“Me, too,” I say, wishing again that I could be part of raising the next generation of kinder humans. But I guess…I am. I may not be raising Chase or Sara Beth or any of the McGuire littles, but I’m a part of their lives. I’m a grown-up they can trust to love and look out for them and that’s special.
I’m about to mention that to Wes—how it’s nice to have trusted adults in your life who aren’t your parents—when he grinds to a sudden halt. The path is narrow here, with the cave walls so close that, if I held out my arms, I could touch both sides.
It’s so tight, I can’t see what’s made him stop.
Before I can ask, Wes slips on something underfoot, sending several large rocks rolling into the darkness ahead.
A beat later, the air explodes in a flurry of dark leathery wings.