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“If you’re the weirdo lightning guy, then I’m the weirdo storm-chaser guy. Everyone I know thinks I’ve got some roos loose in the top paddock, if you know what I mean.”
He smiled then. “Thanks.”
“I mean, we have to be a little bit unhinged to do what we do,” I relented. “But, on the bright side, the fact we know this is just a little insane proves we’re not actually crazy, right?”
“Right.”
“I mean, you don’t want to actually wrap yourself in tin foil and go stand out in a lightning storm, so I think we’re well ahead of the insanity crowd.”
He chuckled and sighed. “If I ever get the urge, I’ll let you know.”
“Solid plan.” I gave his shoulder a little shake. “Okay, so now we’ve got all that out of the way, tell me what you write in your little secret notebook. Let’s look at your data.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
JEREMIAH
Tully didn’t ridicule me.In fact, he was interested in my findings and wanted further analysis. He made me help him cook dinner, and he asked all kinds of questions.
He knew about my mother and didn’t ask me insensitive questions. In fact, he asked me no questions at all on that whole subject, and I was glad. He said he’d seen the footage—almost everyone on the planet had—and maybe that was all he needed to know.
It made me like him even more.
Not to mention that I’d openly discussed being caught having ‘private interactions’ with a male colleague, and he didn’t even bat an eyelid. In fact, he’d found it hilarious. We’d skirted around the ‘sleeping with a man in your bed before’ conversation, which he’d freely admitted he had.
But I’d known Tully Larson for all of three days, and he knew my deepest, darkest secrets. No one in my real life knew these things about me after three days, some never at all. But it was so easy to talk to him.
Maybe because this was only temporary.
Maybe because when this was over and I went back to Melbourne, I’d never see him again.
Divulging secrets to strangers was so much easier.
I felt freer than I had in a long time. I was my true and honest self with him, and that told me more about my relationship with Tully than any analysis could.
I trusted him.
And I trusted very few people.
Even getting into bed with him was different this night. There was no awkwardness, no shyness. There was still shirtlessness, on his behalf, and I was still not opposed.
He was incredibly sexy.
And he was incredibly inquisitive. He hadn’t stopped asking questions yet.
The lights were out, the netting on the bed was down, and I’d just laid down with the sheet up to my waist.
He was sat on the bed, legs half crossed, his knee almost touching me. He wore nothing but loose-fitting sleep shorts that revealed a little too much and nowhere near enough. “So, if we got one of those ECG reader things that the athletes wear around their chests,” he said, “we can get better readings. Is there some kind of brain reader thing that’s portable? I’ll be the guinea pig if you want. Stick those circle pad things to my noggin and see what happens.”
“You do remember that we’re currently in the middle of nowhere, yes? Where do you propose we get such instruments?”
He made a face. “Well, I’m just thinkin’ out loud. If you really wanted to, we could pack up and drive back to Darwin. It’d only take us a day or two and we could come back.”
I smiled at his enthusiasm. “I think the heart rate data from my watch will suffice for now, but thanks.”
“Well, next time you come out, we’ll have the proper gear, and we can do it then.”
“Next time?” As much as I liked the sound of that, it wasn’t likely. “I highly doubt my department will approve another grant for me to come up here.”
