“No need. I mentioned it to Simon, and he took care of the situation and apologized to me on behalf of the company. He’s been really great about everything.”
“Oh?” Once again, mychalant-ness left a lot to be desired. “Has…Simon… been up here much?”
“A couple times. He’s been monitoring the surveying and touring around with some Evola bigwigs, and he’s stopped by to chat. I assumed he was a tool of the enemy at first, but… he’s fun to talk to and informed on the issues I care about. Wish he was a little more forthcoming with some of the reports he promised me on the environmental impact studies Evola is doing, but…” He shrugged. “He asked me to have dinner with him sometime, and I agreed.”
“Oh? Have dinner so you can… talk more about the development?” I kept my gaze on the sandwiches like they might contain the secrets of the universe. “Good. Glad Simon’s being helpful in a… professional capacity.”
Hawk snorted like he knew exactly what jealous thoughts were running through my head, and Hawk being Hawk, he probably did.
I passed him a sandwich. “Eat,” I said, rolling my eyes at myself.
Hawk didn’t say anything else about Simon. As we ate, he turned the conversation to Instagram and Austen and hiking with the Scouts, I found myself forgetting about my irrational jealousy and worries for his safety and drawing a deep breath for the first time in days.
This, right here, was what I’d been craving. Seeing Hawk smile. Hearing him download all the thoughts in his brain. Knowing that he and I were so close, nothing—and no one—could ever come between us.
It was perfect.
Or at least it was until I fucked it all up again.
When I finished eating, I looked around to take stock of our supplies. My gaze landed on the stack of things he’d brought to the cave before my arrival, which were laid out on a tarp on one side of the cave. There was a large backpack mostly filled with snacks and a few dehydrated meals, a bunch of protest signs, a small cooler bag, and…
“Hawk,” I said, interrupting his recitation.
“Uh…” He blinked. “Yes?”
Chill out, Jack.
Do not make this A Thing.
Do not start flinging around wild accusations.
“Why thehelldo you have a second sleeping bag in here?”
CHAPTER TEN
HAWK
“A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
~ Fitzwilliam Darcy
Jack’s voiceechoed off the walls, so loud I jumped and nearly bobbled my mug of cocoa. “What?”
“Two sleeping bags, Hawk. One.” He pointed a finger at the bag I was sitting on. “Andtwo.” He pointed at Crys’s sleeping bag, which I’d left with my other spare supplies.
“I… I…What?” I asked again. His words still weren’t making sense.
“Is it…? Are you expecting Si—someonetonight?” Jack demanded, pushing to his feet. “Crys said… But I didn’t think… Do you want me to leave?”
I gaped at him. We’d been getting along so well. He’d made me cocoa with so many marshmallows I was pretty sure my nose was sticky. He’d packedbooksin his backpack alongside his emergency flashlight and first aid kit because he knew that, to me, they were just as essential. He’d brought me my very favorite sandwiches—which were absolutelynotleftovers fromlunch, thank you very much, since these weren’t on the summer menu, but I’d been too besotted by his thoughtfulness to call him out on his lie.
And now… this.
I crossed my arms. “My plans are none of your concern.”
Jack stalked closer. His eyes narrowed with an intensity I rarely saw but which always managed to mangle my insides and weaken my knees. “Whose. Sleeping bag. Is. It?”
My heart galloped wildly. “Worried that I’ve organized tent orgies on Fogg Peak?” I goaded. “Wondering if I arranged some kind of thunderstorm sex fest here in Kirkcaster Cave? So what if I did? None. Of. Your. Business.” Two could play at the stilted-speaking thing.
