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Its tiny curved mouth is clenched over Ren’s thumb, biting the intruder with all its might.
I bend, dropping to Ren’s side. “He’s the one doing all the biting now, it seems.”
Ren’s red flaked gaze dances over mine, his mouth twitching into a smile. “Do you like it?”
I hold my palms out to him. “Yes.I haven’t happened upon a skink this large yet.”
His mouth screws, brows pulling together. “Skink? What a strange name.”
This time, my mouth is the one twitching. “Gimme.’” I gesture with my open palms.
Ren moves his hands over mine and then stops, eyes narrowing. “Will his bite hurt you?”
I try very hard not to roll my eyes. In the end, trying isn’t the same as doing. “He’s a skink. Harmless. If it hurts, I’ll give him back.”
My answer soothes Ren’s worries enough that he releases the now writhing bundle of smooth scales into my grip. The skink hisses, and as if making good on his promise, he grabs onto the fatty part of my palm with his small mouth.
It’s painful, but I shield my discomfort from Ren’s prying eyes. The bite isn’t enough to deter my curiosity.
The skink is even smoother than he looks, with rounded ridges and a fragile, squishy belly. His sharp stare is wide and wild, shocked by the predicament he’s found himself in.
Poor fellow.
I pet his head with a single stroke of my thumb before lowering him to the decaying tree, positioning him beneath the fern we found him below.
Ren quickly grabs my hand, stroking over the pink indention the skinks mouth made with his thumb. “Ouch,” he whispers, his mouth turning down. His eyes dart over my face as he lifts my palm to his lips.
My breath hitches as his soft kiss skates over the burn of the skink bite, rinsing away the soft ache and replacing it with a mound of fluttering butterflies in my stomach.
My sex flares to life, thrumming with heat and wetting as I watch him watching me.
Shit.
“Um, we were going this way,” I lift my arm, pointing behind me while still caught in his snared gaze.
His stare deepens, whispering naughty things from his mind into mine.Get ahold of yourself, Thea.
I tug my hand from his grasp and circle my fingers over his wrist before he can ensnare me again. “Come.” My voice doesn’t tremble, by inner dialog quakes.It’s all just another experience. Another emotion to feel and grow from.
I lead him away from the trail, heading toward a break in the trees. Bright light haloes behind the leaves still clinging to the branches. I’ve never been here before, but that only adds to my excitement.
Each day, something new. Every step takes me closer to understanding the true essence of life.
We exit the woods between two large trees, their trunks wider than most in the forest. My steps falter as we enter a field. I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, staring in wonder at the expansive grassland.
The clearing is more than a simple break in the trees. It’s a well-designed field, with flowing stalks of wheat blowing like waves over the hilly plot. A farmhouse sits atop the tallest hill, its distance making it appear dollhouse in size.
I can’t make out the condition of the home from here, but based on the state of the unattended and poorly maintained crops, I assume it’s abandoned.
Despite that, the sight causes my vision to blur with tears. Not because the people who once lived here are dead, but because this tiny homestead existed at all. The square-cut field and the white shutters on the faraway house are proof that peace can exist on Earth.
It can, and it will again.
Without realizing, I’ve released my hold on Ren’s wrist. His hand snakes up my spine, cupping over my shoulder as he applies gentle pressure. “Thea,” he whispers, his voice coming from just above my shoulder. “I think this discovery triumph's my silly skink find.”
The impenetrable line my mouth has formed shatters, cracking until I’m a giggling mess. “Are you saying I’m a better treasure hunter than you?”
He snorts. “If wild beasts and pretty huts count as treasure, then yes.”
