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She grinned and unzipped the tent, then grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him inside. “That’s enough stalling, Ryan. It’s time to do something life-affirming, hopeful, and—”
“And beautiful,” he growled against her mouth, as he reached back to close the tent flap. “So very beautiful.”
16
Ryan woke first.Before Leilah, before first light. He propped himself up on one elbow in the cold, dark tent and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He traced a lazy finger across Leilah’s cheek. She made a soft sigh sound in her sleep, and he smiled at the kitten-like noise. She shifted, then settled against him, the curve of her hip bumping into his waist as she nestled closer.
His smile faded as he thought of the day ahead. As spectacular as the night had been—and it had been phenomenal—they had real problems and real work to do in the cold light of day. He huffed out a breath that he could see. In theverycold light of day.
He needed to find out what was worth killing for in the Cortez case files but he also needed Leilah to know that last night mattered. She mattered. It was a delicate balance, a needle he wanted to thread perfectly because he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her or disappointing her. Leilah Miriam Khan deserved the best he had to offer. And his abiding fear was that right now, under these circumstances, his best was nowhere near good enough.
Having killed his own early-morning buzz, Ryan wriggled out of the tight sleeping roll and tiptoed out of the tent into the frosty air. He rifled through the bags in the hopes that Chelsea had tossed some instant coffee in with the protein bars and jerky strips. His optimism was rewarded when he unearthed a small box of single-serving tubes of freeze-dried organic roast.
He started the fire to boil water, pulled on his shoes, and took a brisk walk along the dunes trail while the water heated. He headed to the point in time to see the pale pink and purple sunrise over the distant lighthouse. The sun itself was a smear of color in a slate gray sky reflecting off the glass water with a warm glow.
He walked back to the campsite slowly, listening to the eerie call of the loons and the soft cheep of the piper plovers running along the sandy shore. He fixed himself a mug of surprisingly drinkable coffee and sipped it slowly, savoring the contrast between the hot liquid and the cold air. Much like the contrast between the fiery race car driver and his own cool calmness.
Get a grip, dude.He definitely wasn’t going to resolve any of the pressing problems facing him if he spent his morning mooning around like a lovesick Nicholas Sparks character.
He made a second cup of coffee, guzzled it, and then found the keys to the Subaru. He unlocked the hatch manually so the soft beep of the key fob wouldn’t wake Leilah. Then he carried the filing cabinet to the picnic table and fished the key out of his shirt pocket.
The night before, with the police bearing down on Grover’s place, he hadn’t taken the time to confirm that the key fit in the lock. But he figured if it didn’t, he could smash the thing open with a flat rock. He didn’t have to, though. The key slipped into the keyhole on the bottom drawer with ease and turned. He pulled the drawer open and pawed through the folders until he found an overstuffed redweld neatly labeled‘United States v. Cortez.’He tore open a protein bar to chew on as he leafed through the files: police reports; witness statements; interviews; private investigator reports; forensics reports; research memos; and court filings. The Cortez case had generated more activity than he’d remembered.
He was paging through the evidence list when the tent’s zipper unzipped and Leilah stepped out of the tent. She stood, blinking in the light and shivering in the cold. And somehow, she looked fresh and refreshed. She looked like she’d spent the night sleeping on one-thousand thread count sheets in a luxurious king bed and not squished into a polyester shell sleeping bag on the rocky ground.
“Morning, Sparky.”
“Morning,” she said in a husky, sleepy voice. She eyed his coffee with longing. “Is there more of that?”
He stood and filled the pot with bottled water. “Coming right up.”
She smiled. “I’ll go brush my teeth while the water gets hot.”
She ducked back into the tent and reemerged with her tote bag tucked under her arm. He watched her jog down the trail to the bathhouse.
When she returned, he handed her a stainless steel mug filled with steaming coffee.
“Thanks.” She smiled brightly.
His heart squeezed in his chest. Instinctively, without conscious thought, he leaned toward her and lowered his head to kiss her.
Her hand went up, firm against his chest. “Hang on.”
He pulled back. She sipped her coffee and studied him.
Then she exhaled heavily. “We need to talk about last night.”
Oof.Her words hit him like a gut punch.
Pull it together, man.
“Okay. Let’s talk.” He gestured for her to sit.
She perched on one of the picnic benches and he claimed the other. She reached across the table and took his hand. The gesture felt like a condolence.
“Last night was amazing,” she began. The color rose in her cheeks and she lowered her gaze to the table for a moment before lifting her head and looking at him with a clear, direct gaze. “Amazing,” she repeated. “You are amazing.”
“I hear a but coming.”
