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“He’s gonna notify the state troopers. They’ll have to start a search as soon as the weather cooperates. Nothing else I can do right now.”
“Alright. So, now what?” I shiver against the damp cold. I still haven’t warmed up from this morning’s berry picking.
“Now . . . you and I are stuck here until we can fly out.”
Something about the way he says “you and I” draws another shiver from me, this one not from the cold. “For how long?”
His chest lifts with a deep inhale. “Could be for the night.”
“The night?” My eyes rove the cold, musty little cabin, stalling on the wooden base of the bunk beds. There’s no mattress, no blankets, no pillows—not that I’d use anything left here.
No electricity, no plumbing.
“You think you can handle that, Barbie?” I turn back to find Jonah’s piercing gaze settled on me.
Something tells me he’s talking about more than just the rugged conditions.
My stomach does a flip. “Don’t call me that.”
“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges, taking a step forward, well into my personal space. I stand my ground, my heart beginning to race. Thoughts of missing hikers and bears and outhouses and bad ideas vanish, replaced by a simple one—that I desperately want him to kiss me again.
I tip my head back and gaze into intense blue eyes.
“You’re Wren’s daughter.”
I frown. “Yeah . . .” What’s he getting at?
“About what you said in the plane. I know where you were going with that.” His brow furrows lightly. “You’re Wren’s daughter. I wouldn’t use you like that.”
“I’m not following.” But my stomach is tightening with anxiety, that the next thing out of his mouth will be something along the lines of “You’re right, it was a mistake and we should cool it.”
Because, despite already seeing the end of the ride ahead, I’m ready to jump in the car and experience the thrill.
“I’m saying that I might take risks, but they’re always worth it. Got it?”
“I think so?” Not really.
My gaze drifts to his mouth. Ask me if I want you to kiss me again. Please.
Abruptly, he pulls back. “We’ve got to set up camp. I’ll start a fire when I get back.”
“Back from where?”
“The plane. We need my gear!” he hollers into the wild.
I watch his retreating back, his shoulders hunched against the pelting rain as he marches down the path toward the plane.
Leaving me out here in the woods, all alone.
“Wait!” I run to catch up to him.
“You should have stayed put,” Jonah mutters, crouching in front of the woodstove, shoving thin strips of wood into its mouth, the floor around him wet from the rain that drips off his body.
I probably should have, I admit, wringing water from my hair as I lean against the open door, taking in the tall weeds and wildflower blooms that bend under the rain’s pummel. Jonah had just dragged out a nylon bag from the undercarriage when the skies seemed to open up with a deluge. We jogged all the way back, but it didn’t matter. My rain boots, the slicker, none of it offered enough protection.
“Do you always fly with this stuff?” I eye the gear Jonah dumped on the floor, trying to ignore the beige case that holds a gun.
“Have to. A lot of it’s law. Besides, you get stranded out here once and you learn to be more prepared next time around. We’re lucky, though. We could be stuck in a cold plane for the night. Instead, we’ve got this cozy little paradise.”
