Iris sets aside her near-finished lunch and bites into the other peach, her eyes going wide at the tart juice. She reaches into her pack again and produces two paper napkins.
I take the one she offers, grinning. “What else you got in there?”
She shrugs. “Just a few essentials. Not too much.”
“Like what?”
Iris grabs her pack and peeks inside. “Let’s see… aside from the stuff I already took out like the blanket, our lunches, Mica’s water and treats, I have a first-aid kit, bug spray, sun block, and a protein bar.” She rootles around in the pack. “Oh, and a deck of cards.”
I blink. “Why the cards?”
She grins. “It’s kind of a hiking joke between Sally and me.”
I wait. Then finally. “Are you gonna share?”
A laugh bubbles from her. “The cards are for emergencies only.”
I choke on a laugh. “What kind of emergencies would require cards?”
She wrinkles her pert little nose. “Zero days.”
Zero days? And then I remember the hiking lingo. Zero days are ones when the weather is so bad, hiking is impossible. Or when a hiker gets sick on the trail and needs to rest in a hammock or tent. For one reason or another, zero days are usually miserable.
I cock a brow at her. “And you thought you’d need those today?”
Her smile breaks loose. “That’s the thing. It’s sort of a Murphy’s Law deal. If you pack the cards, you won’t need them... Half the time,” she adds, with a little tilt of her head.
I give her a mock scowl. “You were worried I’d bore you? And we’d have to resort to a game of Go Fish?”
Her brows leap. “No, quite the opposite. You’d get tired after a few hours of my company and need to disappear in a game of solitaire.”
My laughter booms through the forest. “You’ve got to be joking.” I toss my peach pit into the woods. A lucky raccoon will clean his teeth on it later.
She’s put on a smile, but she gives a self-effacing shrug. Her peach pit sails just as far as mine. “You can’t be too careful.”
My eyes zero in on her blush. I roll onto one elbow, reach over, and nudge her pack aside. “Never.”
Her eyes narrow in confusion. “Never what?”
“I’d never need that deck of cards.”
Her eyes dance with questions. I don’t answer them. I don’t tell her that time moves too fast when I’m with her. That all of our dance lessons feel like they last fifteen minutes instead of ninety. That I’d be a better teacher if I let her dance with Ramon every time so I could stand back and observe, guiding her where needed. But I don’t let her dance with Ramon because I want her dancing with me.
I don’t tell her that I’ve caught myself thinking of idiotic reasons to call her on the days when we have no lessons. I don’t tell her that I would have done anything with her today. Taken her grocery shopping. Watched Disney on Ice. Robbed a bank.
Okay, I would have tried to talk her out of that one. But you get my point. Judging by the look on Iris’s face, however, she doesn’t. I turn my hand palm up, outstretched toward her to make it clear.
“Lie down with me.”
Her lips part on a startled breath, but she doesn’t hesitate. As soon as she slips her hand into mine, I tug her against me and close my eyes because—
Damn, that feels good.
I let my lips find her neck, and when they do, she gives the most irresistible little sigh. I kiss and taste her, working my way to her mouth. Her lips and tongue taste of peaches, burn like fever. Lying with her body pressed against me, I’m instantly hard.
Iris’s hands are in my hair, her short nails grazing my scalp. I cradle her in one arm and run my free hand behind her ear down her neck. She shivers in my embrace. I want to touch her everywhere. I want to make her shiver again.
I want to make her come.
But I don’t know what’s allowed, so I let her lead how we touch. Still, I kiss her. I kiss her the way I want to make love to her. Showing her what I want to do with my tongue. Promising with every lap and flick that I know how to take care of her. That her pleasure is my drug.
And my intention can’t be lost on her, because her breath