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With a relieved sigh—though he wasn’t sure why he was feeling relieved exactly—Theo climbed up behind the wheel.
seven
They drovealong the narrow dirt trail that was basically his private driveway. It was more or less just a path that he’d driven over enough times that it now looked like a very narrow, rough road. The windows were down, the truck’s headlights illuminated the tall grass on either side of them, close enough to brush the truck, and the flittering insects and moths.
“I had no idea you could even get a truck down here,” she said after a few minutes of silence.
“It’s not a great idea if you don’t know the area. It’s pretty marshy in spots. It’s not like this is an actual road on any map,” he said, looking over at her. “I prefer my boat and use it most of the time. But sometimes a truck makes sense.”
“Do other people drive down here?” she asked.
“Not really. If people come this deep down the bayou, it’s on boats.”
She just nodded. After a long pause she said, “But someonecoulddrive down here. Or out of here.”
He realized she needed reassurance. He nodded. “Yes. If they knew where they were going and had something with four-wheel drive, they definitely could. Hell, someone couldwalkif they had good boots or shoes and knew which direction to go. It gets less marshy the further you go that direction,” he said, pointing out her window. The bayou was to their left.
“Good to know,” she murmured, her eyes on the path in front of them that was mostly hidden by grass and weeds if you didn’t know where to look.
Finally, Theo asked, “So where does this claustrophobia come from? Did you have a bad experience as a kid?”
God, it tied him up in knots to think that Savannah might have had some kind of traumatic experience that had made her fear abandonment or being left behind.
She looked over at him quickly, and he sensed her surprise.
It took her a moment to answer, and for a second, he was sure she was going to tell him to just fuck off. But she took a breath and said, “Um, no…trauma. I never got locked in anywhere or left anywhere. Nothing like that.”
He looked over at her. Her long hair was being twisted by the wind, and the moonlight shone on her face. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Not at all like the polished City Girl he was used to seeing—and thinking was breathtakingly beautiful. Clearly, Savannah did it for him in all settings and situations.
She went on before he could reach over and wrap her hair around his hand, holding it back from her face.
“My parents just never went anywhere.” She sighed. “That sounds really stupid out loud. Who develops nervousness because of that?”
Fuck it. He reached out and took her hand. “You did. There’s nothing stupid about it. It’s real for you, and that makes it legitimate.”
He could feel her staring at him, and he looked over. Their eyes met.
Then he had to turn his attention back to the road. But she didn’t pull her hand away.
And she kept talking. “I read a lot growing up. Tons and tons of books. Always fiction. Lots of urban fantasy, where the places look and seem like our real world, but there’s magic and paranormal or supernatural characters and forces.”
He nodded, following that, but saying nothing.
“I used to beg them to go on trips,” she continued. “I wanted to see the mountains, and the desert, and the Pacific Ocean. I wanted to see ranches, and beach cottages, and big old mansions in the south. The Golden Gate Bridge, Mount Rushmore, the Vegas strip. All of the iconic places across the country that my books talked about. Hell, that tv shows and movies talked about.”
She paused and took a deep breath. Their fingers were interlaced, and he felt her fingers curl against his.
“But they never wanted to,” she said. “They didn’t understand why we would ever need to leave New York. Our own city had everything every other place had and had it bigger and better.” She shrugged. “So I never got to travel. And when I got older and understood just how elitist and strange that was, I started to get frustrated. I asked ifIcould go. Go on trips with friends. Spend spring break somewhere else. Or go to camp. Or get a job or an internship for the summer somewhere else. But I always got the same answer. Why would I ever want or need to leave New York City?”
That did sound strange to him, but Theo just stroked his thumb over the back of her knuckles, hoping she’d go on. He loved having a little insight into this woman. He completely understood how that situation alone would make her want to travel extensively. He just didn’t get how it fed into her anxiety.
Savannah was staring straight ahead. But she did continue. “Finally, one night after a particularly loud and long argument when I was about sixteen, my mother finally confessed that she had a horrible fear of flying. She had been on a flight as a kid that had crash landed. No one died, but, of course, she’d been traumatized and hadn’t been able to fly since.And my mother’s anxiety aboutherflying extended to my sister and me flying. She just couldn’t handle the idea. It was the entire reason we lived in New York City. So that she and my dad and me and my sister could have anything and everything we could ever want and need without having to ever fly anywhere else.” She sighed. “They were also upset because I was being ungrateful for that, thinking there were all these other, better places.”
“But you weren’t saying that you thought other places werebetter. They’re just different. You just wanted a whole, varied experience.”
She looked over at him quickly. He glanced at her again.
“Yes. Exactly,” she said.
