Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,46

Until you moved on, she couldn’t move on, but moving on with you still didn’t feel right.”

“Maybe.” He waves to a patrol car that passes. “I guess we keep playing this out and see where it goes.”

He means with regards to Cass, but as soon as he says it, I want to nod emphatically and say yes, let’s keep dating and see where it goes. I can’t mix fake dating with sleeping together into a relationship that isn’t there.

But after the weekend we spent together, I’m tempted to tell him I want to see where we can go.

“I still owe you a geocache date,” he says suddenly.

I’m hung up on the word date and the thrill racing down my spine. God, are those butterflies in my belly? I press a hand to my stomach. I haven’t been excited to go out with someone for so long. Probably because I haven’t gone out with anyone for so long. Samuel and I were at that comfortable stage in our relationship. Besides living together, our dates were career-focused—his career. “I have a hike planned for tomorrow.”

“I’m free tomorrow.”

So much for keeping my head around Ford. I jump at the chance. “We can go right away in the morning. Want to sleep over?”

“Lia, you’re going to make me drive this rig right into traffic. If they have to call 911 and I get the rookie that still turns green at the sight of blood, I’ll never forgive you.”

My laugh is cut off by the radio’s squelch. “Adult female in respiratory distress at…”

I’m grateful for the interruption, only because the rest of the shift will go by quickly. Then I get to have a sleepover.

Ford

“Is this all we’re bringing?” I heft the backpack. Only the water bottles make it heavy. Other than that, there are some granola bars, a flashlight, a first aid kit, bug spray, and sunscreen. I’m also carrying the rain gear. Lia’s pack has all the same along with a small trowel, what looks like the little mirror my dentist shoves in my mouth, a small magnet, and a pocket knife.

She tosses a logbook and pen into her red backpack. “That’s all we should need. I don’t think this one will be hard to find.”

“Why the bandages?”

“I leave those behind for swag.”

“Swag in a geocache?” I’m so out of my element here. I had the idea that we were hiking, but she’s not wearing performance gear and hiking boots. She’s got on nothing more than athletic shoes, khaki pants she’s rolled to her shins, and a pale blue T-shirt, as if geocaching is nothing more than a walk on a paved path.

I could’ve asked what I’d need, but I was so damn intent on getting between her thighs that I raced home after work, packed a bag, and popped up on her doorstep. She greeted me with grilled burgers and a couple of beers.

Then we compromised on a movie that was neither a blockbuster nor an indie flick before I finally got to taste her again.

When she came on my tongue the first time, I didn’t care about what had happened last weekend, not anymore. The doubts that had stayed with me, not just about Cass, but about what Lia had said about my dad, had robbed me of enough sleep. I got better shut-eye last night than I did all week.

“Ready?” she asks.

“Lead the way.”

She drives, taking us farther out of town than I expected. We pass Wings Out, a company that does skydiving, and after a few more miles, she turns off the main road and pulls to the side. We’re surrounded by grape vines and a few clusters of California pepper trees crowded in the corners of the fields.

“Hold on, I gotta check the coordinates.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about, so I wait, content to watch the little furrow between her brows as she inspects the map on her phone. Every so often she glances out the window and then back at her screen.

She sets the phone on the console. “Okay, I think we’re almost to the trailhead.” We pull away from the trees and back into the sun.

The trailhead in question is nothing more than a dusty approach beside a narrow, little-used hiking trail with no shade that follows along a fence line bordering a meadow. The summer sun has since dried out the grass to a sandy yellow.

“It’s hidden near one of the posts, isn’t it?”

She grins, her eyes dancing. She really likes the hunt.