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“I have rehearsal with the band at eight,” I say, letting my damp fingertips trail up and down the hollow of his spine, amazed that the ache is still getting worse. Or better. More intense for sure. “They practice at the oil change place downtown after hours, so I’ll be close to your shop. I could come by after I’m done, and we could grab a margarita at Pancho’s or something. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy.”
“Sounds good. Just let me make sure John can close tomorrow. I don’t think he has plans, so he shouldn’t mind, but Wednesday is technically my night, and we’re trying to stay open until midnight.”
“Well, I could always just come over and hang out if he has plans,” I say. “Alphabetize your tattoo books or something.”
His lips quirk. “You don’t have to do that. You could just keep me company. You give good company.”
“Thanks, you do, too,” I say, sensing that I need to move away from him before I start humping his leg or something else obscenely embarrassing. “Come on, let’s get wet. I can’t stand doing anything halfway.”
“Me either,” Nick says. Seconds later, he dives toward the center of the lake. I follow him with a smile, shivering with delight as the cool water closes over my head, helping reduce my boiling hormones to a respectable simmer.
We spend the rest of the afternoon swimming and taking breaks to eat the fruit and cheese Nick brought. By the time eight o’clock rolls around, I’m pleasantly exhausted and full—two of my favorite sensations. The only thing that could have made the afternoon better was more time. And more touching Nick.
I swear, I can’t seem to get enough of him.
We hike back up the trail in silence, but this time, it’s a melancholy silence. It’s obvious neither of us is ready for the day to end.
I’m about to ask Nick if he wants to come over to my place before he has to leave for work when he drops the empty basket and runs the last few steps into the clearing by the road. “The car? Shit. What happened to my car?”
I hurry after him, looking in both directions, hoping we’ve wandered off the trail in a different spot and the car will be waiting up the hill. But there’s no sign of it.
The long gravel road is empty.
Nick’s car is gone.
Chapter 15
Nick
By the time we reach the main road outside the park, I can tell Melody’s feet are hurting—flip-flops aren’t ideal for a hike—but she doesn’t complain.
She’s positively upbeat, in fact, and keeps assuring me that we’ll find my car soon, that a ranger must have had it towed or something, and that once we get close enough to town for cell service, we’ll call and straighten it all out.
I think it’s more likely that the Midget was stolen—I’ve been coming to that spot for years and never seen a ranger, but I have seen other people, some of them decidedly on the sketchy side—but I don’t share that with her. I don’t want her to feel anxious walking down the deserted road in the near darkness, wondering if there are car jackers on the loose.
“I have bars!” she shouts, waving her cell triumphantly as we crest a hill on the two-lane country road not far from a sign announcing it’s still twenty-five miles to Bliss River. “I’m going to try Aria first.”
“Wait.” I catch her wrist gently. “Then Nash will know we’re out together.”
She bites her bottom lip, that lovely bottom lip I need to keep kissing without interference from my overbearing big brother. “Okay, but if I call my mom, he’ll probably find out that way, too. When it comes to family gossip, Sue is incapable of keeping her mouth shut, and she’s over at their house all the time to watch Felicity.”
I sigh. “Well, all my family is obviously out. None of them are going to keep a secret from Nash, so…”
“Let’s see, Kitty is in Atlanta being forced to visit her mom and evil half-sisters,” she says, ticking off options on her fingers. “Beatrice and Jennifer have tiny babies, and Genevieve is already back at grad school. Nana is probably awake because she never sleeps anymore. But if we ask Nana to drive at night, we’ll be putting the entire town’s life in jeopardy, and she doesn’t approve of me going out with boys unchaperoned. Unless they’re boys from church, who she very wrongly thinks are too sweet to cop a feel without permission.”
“Wow. Unchaperoned?” I echo with a wince. “Is she aware it hasn’t been the nineteenth century for like…a while?”
“I know, she’s ridiculous, but it’s the way she was raised, and good luck convincing her it isn’t the right way,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Nana thinks unmarried girls should have a friend or relative with them on all dates unless the date is with a boy from church and in a public place—preferably one where her church cronies hang out so she has built-in spies. Like The Great Wall buffet during senior special hour or the Elks lodge on bingo night. I have played so much bingo. Seriously, a ridiculous amount.”
