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“Before we could all drive, we used to meet up here. The halfway distance is a little way back behind us.”
“That’s convenient,” she notes. The bottom portion of her dress is more permanently stuck to her other hand than ours are to each other’s as she attempts to keep it from dragging in the leaves and branches.
She’s done a decent job for the most part. The points of her heels fight for the same mercy.
“We’re getting close to our destination.”
Hailey’s neck snaps, turning back. “Almost? Finn Casper, you aren’t taking me out to these woods to trap me in some underground dungeon, are you?”
She’s joking but, in all honesty, it’s a tempting offer, then maybe she wouldn’t be able to leave without telling anyone again.
“It’s not a dungeon, but it does have a decent view. It’s what any culprit would dream for.”
Her expression turns stern. “As long as I’m guaranteed not to get mud on this dress, then you also get to stay aboveground.”
A throaty laugh bubbles up from my lungs and past my neck before I can help it. The only type of mud Williams would ever be okay with anywhere near her body is at a spa, in the form of a mask.
“I really hope we’re almost there because if not, don’t think I would hesitate to send you the receipt for my dry cleaning…”
I snort when she makes another face in distaste. This one is for her shoes. The rain hasn’t let up and even though the trees have helped mostly shield us, the ground is still wet.
I flutter my lashes. “I can carry you if it’d make things easier.” I tap my shoulder. “Toss you right over the old bionic arm here.”
“You mean the one you had surgery on after your accident?”
Her nose pinches, but I can tell it’s less out of disgust and more out of insecurity about what happened.
I let her off easy, giving her my very best megawatt, panty-dropping smile. “The very same.”
Suddenly it’s her mouth that’s rounding at the same time her feet are stopping. Holding her hand means I’m coming to a halt as well.
Her swallow turns rough. “Don’t do that to me,” she mutters softly, even though I hear the bite in there as well. Shifting, she faces me more head-on. She acts as if I should know what she’s referring to, but I don’t.
Maybe if she’d communicate with me…
“What do you mean?”
Then…then,she has the nerve to drop my hand and charge ahead like she’s the one who knows where we’re going. This option must’ve been easier than trying to explain herself.
My teeth grind.
“Do what?” I holler again at her back, extending my arms out in frustration.
She whips around with a growl. Her dress a trail of forgotten fabric swinging with the same dramatic gusto in the dirt.
“Don’t play with me, Finn. I don’t want the same smile you’ve given every other female on the face of the planet.” Her voice carries more reverberation, grit, springboarding off the trees louder than the ongoing music back up at the house.
Scrubbing, I press my fingers into my eyeballs, and yep, when they open back up, she’s on the move, having zero clue which way the gazebo is I wanted to show her. Or that it exists at all.
Do you think that stops her stubborn ass though?
I snort. Yeah, fat fucking chance.
Holding, I stall out for one more beat because I can be headstrong too.
I charge ahead of her. I put in the added effort of making sure she can hear as my shoes slosh the mud because I will not be demeaned like this. This is my show-and-tell, so she doesn’t get to tell me where to go. I’m running this rodeo.
The leaves crunch behind me and I know it’s because she’s slammed down an aggravated foot with the same amount of dramatic emphasis.
