A small puff of air escapes his nose like he’s putting every ounce of energy into not laughing. “You had that one ready to go, didn’t you?”
“Locked and loaded.” I tap my head with a smug smile.
“Pie.”
“You really need to move away from the food theme.” I stand, withholding a giggle.
“I think I’m hungry. Are you satisfied with my non-psychopath status?” He slides his palm over mine, pulling me gently behind him.
“I’m starting to doubt your aversion to touch.”
“I’m testing a theory,” is all he says, not looking back.
“And what theory is that?”
“I’ll let you know once I have the answer.”
I don’t fight the smile that lifts my cheeks, feeling quite content despite the winds that blow ominously through the crevices surrounding us and all the things that want to keep me from getting to the other side.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jack holds onto my hand all the way to the canteen, his palm gently pressed to mine, and he only lets go once we step inside to order warm bowls of stew. I was shocked to find out there’s a canteen in the canyon serving hot meals, like a regular restaurant. Since there isn’t another restaurant or store at the next campground, I’m savoring this peace offering, even though it feels a little like I’m being weaned off any form of luxury before the harsh reality of the second leg.
We sit shoulder-to-shoulder on a picnic table near the canteen, cradling our bowls while the sky boasts its talents above. The Milky Way woos us overhead while dinner fills our bellies, and I can’t figure out whether the canyon is comforting us or this giant hole we’ve been traipsing through like ants is just lulling us into a contented stupor so its creatures can devour us in our sleep.
A comfortable silence settles while we eat, but it takes me a few minutes to relax. The tension seeps from my neck when I recognize the absence of the constant need to be on guard and pretend to be someone I’m not. How can knowing someone for two days bring such a sense of peace?
“It’s incredible how much you can see without the city lights. I’m used to going on walks with Giorgio in the evenings, but we never get a view likethis.”
Jack coughs, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Is he a housemate, or friend, or something?”
“He spends most nights in my bed, so I’d say he’s more than a roommate,” I tease, rolling my lips. Jack shifts, straightening his back with a throat clearing. It’s just too easy to have fun with this man.
“Giorgio’s got the most adorable hair. But man, his morning breath is something else,” I continue, watching him carefully.
There’s a subtle nod of his head while he stares up at the sky.
“It’s why I don’t let him lick my face, even though he loves to wake me up like that. It’s just gross.”
He finally turns his head, aiming narrowed eyes.
“Giorgio is my dog,” I say, failing to hide the grin on my face. All Jack does is purse those lips with a hum that I feel in my toes.
“You have younger siblings?” I ask, and he turns his head, meeting my smirk.
“A younger sister.” He nods.
I knew it. Jack gives off major first-child vibes.
I’ve devoured my dinner, but I’m still drooling as soon as I smell what’s left of Jack’s food. His eyes track my gaze to his bowl before lifting back to my face.
“Still hungry?” His lips relax into a grin, and I can’t look away. He’s removed his hat, and his dark hair catches hints of blue from the moon. That same feeling I had while staring at the canyon for the first time hits me somewhere between my chest and my throat. It’s that same urgency, like if I stare at him too long, he’ll vanish. Every time he gives me more of his smile, another thread appears, looping around us.
But am I the only one who feels it?
Jack is unaware of the trance he’s put me in, scooping a tender piece of meat and holding it out for me. There’s not one scenario in the world in which I would refuse, so I do what every red-blooded woman would and lean forward, accepting the spoonful.
Our eyes remain locked as he pulls the spoon out of my mouth and puts it directly back into his, savoring the remnant of sauce.
