4. Chapter 4 The Perfect First Date #2
The sun is still high in the sky and won't start setting until after 7:30. We have nearly an hour and a half to search for rocks, longer if he's willing to hike back in the dark. Even if his beginner's rockhounding kit doesn't have a flashlight, both our phones do.
The air is dry and cool, perfect hiking weather.
Grabbing my sweater, I jump out of the SUV as soon as it's parked.
Gabriel joins me, his mouth a sharp line of disapproval. "You do not exit the SUV before Hakim gives the all-clear. Bala'al may do so as well in certain situations. You will either exit the vehicle after me, or when I open the door for you."
"I will?" I ask delicately, my temper finally starting to stir at his high-handed dictates. "Is that royal protocol, or something?"
I know it's not. Again, I can thank my mother for that knowledge.
"It is security protocol," Gabriel says repressively.
I bite back an instant retort and consider his words. Presumably the security protocols are in place for his safety. Me ignoring them could put Gabriel at risk.
"I will wait for them to give the all-clear," I say, ignoring the bit about not leaving the car until he opens my door. Yeah, no, that's not going to happen. "But what does that look like? Is it a hand signal, or something?"
"In most cases Hakim will simply say clear. If the security threat is considered moderate or above, the sign will be me opening your door and you will stay close to me so Hakim and Bala'al's attention is not divided."
He makes it sound like we're going to see enough of each other in the future that I'll need this information. I like knowing he is apparently as eager to become friends as I am. Well not as eager and I doubt his desire to befriend me is laced with a heavy dose of lust, but still.
He wants to be my friend. "How will I know what the security threat level is?"
"I will tell you." Gabriel takes a backpack from Bala'al and shrugs into it. "There is one set of tools. I thought we could share them."
"Sounds good." But I'm surprised he's the one carrying the pack until I realize that Bala'al plans to scout a few minutes ahead and Hakim follows us at enough distance to offer us a semblance of privacy.
I don't envy either man hiking in the high desert dressed in a dark suit. At least they're wearing lace up boots suitable to the terrain.
Gabriel lets me take the lead at first, following my directions without question as we leave the main trail and cut up a narrower path toward an exposed hillside I know is rich in quartz veins.
"You’ve been here often," he says.
"Yes." I jump lightly over a shallow wash. "With the club. Alone sometimes."
"You hike alone?"
"Sometimes," I say. "The rocks don’t care either way."
"And your parents?"
I snort. "I don't tell them more than I have to about my life."
"Why?"
"They can both be annoyingly interfering in their own way. The less they know, the better." For my peace of mind anyway.
"My parents too can be interfering, but it is their prerogative, is it not?"
"For a queen and king? Maybe it is. But I don't want to listen to lectures about hiking alone, or dating a man twenty years older than me."
"That was not—" His voice breaks off. "When did you date such a man?"
"I was twenty. Before getting my PATH certification, I gave riding lessons. Juan used to bring his daughter for them."
"And he stopped doing so?" Gabriel asks, when I don't continue.
"Yes." I blow out a breath of remembered grief. "She was in her teens, but was developmentally disabled and processed the world around with the outlook of a seven-year-old. She loved the horses."
"It became a burden to bring his daughter to riding lessons?" Gabriel asks, his tone harsh with judgment.
"Would it for you?" I can't help asking, though that's not what happened.
"Children in my family are taught to ride from an early age. Horses are an integral part of our lives, except for my brother who lives in the northern desert and oversees our oil concerns. He spends too much time living on his yacht to keep a stable."
"I can't imagine a life without horses."
"Just so." He nods and then frowns. "What happened with this man who was twenty years your senior? This Juan?"
He says Juan's name like it's a disparaging word.
"His daughter…" I pause and inhale deeply before saying, "She went into a diabetic coma and never came out of it. It was her first known hyperglycemic episode."
Gabriel inhales sharply. "That is tragic."
"It was. She was so young." I blink back unexpected tears. "And sweet. I really liked her."
"And you stopped seeing her father because of this?" he asks, his voice now carefully neutral.
"In a way. He couldn’t stand the reminders of her in their home. He sold up and moved to the west coast." Losing them both had hurt.
A lot.
I don't make friends easily and the ones I do, I hold onto. When I can.
"You sound like you miss him." Gabriel's tone isn't neutral now. It's stern.
And it sends a shiver right through my ladybits.
"He was a good friend."
"You said you dated him."
"No, I said my parents would have criticized me for dating him, because they would have assumed our friendship was something more."
"It was not?" Gabriel asks.
"No. I liked him. A lot. But I reminded him of his daughter. He used to say that all the time. He loved her, a lot, so I always took it as a compliment." And he'd been right.
Me and his daughter were both really shy and we both loved books and horses.
"You liked this man. Perhaps you wanted to date him."
"Maybe. It never happened though. He got married again after he moved. He's got a two-year-old and his wife is pregnant again."
"You stay in touch with this Juan?" Gabriel demands.
"I told you. We're friends."
"You said you were friends, not that you are."
"Same thing."
"No, it is not. You will not have male friends you find attractive and wish you had dated."
I stop walking and stare up at Gabriel. "Not sure where you think you get the right to tell me who I can be friends with, but Juan is my friend. So is his wife and that's not going to change."
"I am the only male friend you need."
"That is ridiculous."
"It is not."
"You don't even live in New Mexico."
"Neither does he."
Where in the world is this conversation going? "Look." I point to an area where there's been a recent rockfall.
It glitters faintly where the sun hits.
I feel it, the thrill of discovery.
"Let's start there," I say, a little breathlessly.
Gabriel immediately starts walking in the direction I'm pointing.
"Do not think this conversation is forgotten," he says forbiddingly when I catch up to him.
Right. Like it matters that much to him who my friends are. He'll have forgotten Juan by the time we find our first crystal.
Which happens pretty quickly. Not surprising when the glitter of quartz caught my attention in the first place.
"You have good instincts," he says approvingly when the quartz within the rock is revealed.
"It’s not instincts," I say. "It’s pattern recognition. Quartz likes company. Once you know what the right kind of host rock looks like…"
"You know where to dig," he finishes.
I tuck the crystal specimen we found away in a bag and put it into the backpack. "Exactly. Ready to find more?"
Gabriel stands and offers his hand to me. "Yes."
I lay my hand in his, even though I don't actually need any help getting up. I've been doing this a long time and if I couldn't get up and down off the ground on my own power, I'd be in trouble.
Nevertheless, I let him pull me to my feet, reveling in the feel of his hand against mine and disproportionately disappointed when he lets go.
Focusing on the patterns in the ground around us, I start hunting again and time disappears.
There’s the feel of stone under my hands, the tiny thrills when a familiar texture or sparkle catches my eye, the small grunts of effort as we pry loose a piece, the soft clink as I drop a promising chunk into my bag.
At some point we settle into a rhythm: I scan, he leverages, we evaluate. He’s strong without showing off about it, muscles shifting under his shirt as he works the hammer with controlled force.
Sweat beads at the back of my neck. Dust coats my hands, my knees, probably my face. My braid has started to come apart, strands sticking to my skin.
I should feel self-conscious.
I don’t.
Not until I look up and catch him watching me instead of the rock.
He’s close.
Too close.
We’re both crouched, knees almost touching, his forearm resting casually on his thigh, our faces only a foot apart. Dark eyes, shadowed by his lashes focus with unblinking intensity on me, like he’s cataloguing every detail.
I become aware of a cacophony of physical reactions at once: the rapid hammer of my heart, my fast breathing, the heat low in my belly, the way my fingers tingle to touch smooth flesh instead of rock.
"Find something?" I ask, my voice a little too bright.
"Yes," he says.
I drop my gaze reflexively, searching for what he's found.
There, half-buried in the matrix, is a clear point of quartz, maybe two inches long, clouded in the center, the tip chipped but still catching the light.
"Oh," I breathe.
But then the quartz is forgotten when Gabriel tips my chin up and his mouth hovers just above mine. My lips part in anticipation, my nipples harden so quickly, they ache, my body buzzes with sexual electricity.
Is he going to kiss me?
"I have found a new friend," he says with satisfaction and releases my chin.
My bubble of anticipation pops and I fall back to reality with a crash. He found a new friend. Not a woman he wants to kiss. A friend. Like Juan.
Gabriel sees me as a friend.
I wonder if I remind him of any of his family members?