Deep Wood - Margot Scott Page 0,1

I reach for my travel mug, figuring I only need one or two glugs of stale coffee to get me through the last leg of the trip. I come up empty.

“Shit...” I toss the mug into the passenger’s side footwell and rub my eyes. If I don’t get more caffeine in me soon, I’m gonna crash—big time.

I pull into the general store’s parking lot, grateful to discover they’ve also installed a gas pump. I choose the pay-inside option, figuring I have to go in for an energy shot anyway. A day-old sandwich might not be a bad idea either. For all I know, Jack hasn’t been back to the cabin since the last time we were there, eighteen years ago. Hell, the roof might’ve even caved in.

A payphone stands like a relic outside the entrance, a reminder that things move slower out here than they do everywhere else. Bells jingle as I step inside the store.

The cashier, a stout woman with red hair, shoots me a frustrated glance before returning her attention to the teenager in a gray hoodie and cutoff shorts standing at the counter. “Honey, if you don’t have the cash, I’m gonna have to ask you to put these things back.”

“No,” says the softest voice I’ve ever heard. “I have it. I’m just...not sure where I put it.”

I grab a passable-looking Italian sub from the cooler and another pack of five-hour energy shots—plus a bottle of Jack Daniels, because why the hell not? —then get in line behind the girl at the register. Over her shoulder, I can see she’s loaded up the counter with a small mountain of food and camping essentials: matches, batteries, live bait, a loaf of bread, jars of peanut butter and strawberry jam, plus fixings for s’mores.

S’mores had been Jack’s favorite summer dessert.

“I swear I have the money somewhere.” Her hood is up, so I can’t see her face, but she sounds tired. If I had more fucks to give, I might be moved to commiserate. As it stands, my top priority is getting back on the road.

The cashier sighs. “Sweetie, either pay for your things or please step aside so I can help the next customer.”

“Look, I found some.” She lays a wrinkled bill on the counter. The cashier takes the bill and smooths it out.

“This doesn’t even cover half of what you’ve got here.”

“There’s more in my wallet. I just have to find it.” She sets her backpack on the floor. I squint against the fluorescent lights, growing less easygoing by the second.

Dark-brown hair slips out from the girl’s hood as she kneels to search her bag. I catch myself swaying as my energy levels plummet, and my patience spreads itself dangerously thin. If the only thing standing between me and a bed is one absentminded teenager with a sweet tooth, I’m willing to throw some money at the problem to get it out of my way.

“I don’t have time for this.” I pull out my wallet, side-stepping the girl, and smack two twenties onto the counter. “Ring her up.”

“I said I have it.” The girl looks up at me with wide, impossibly green eyes, ringed with too much eyeliner. I stagger back a half-step and then catch myself. She’s gorgeous, but it’s more than that. There’s something familiar about her, though I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. Her tongue slips out to wet her bottom lip, a flash of pink on pink. Instantly, my whole body comes alive, as much as it can, given my exhaustion.

Even my goddamn cock wakes up.

“Sir,” says the clerk, splintering my attention, “you’re offering to pay for all of this?”

“This, too.” I set my own stuff on the counter.

The girl rises, her mouth bent into a frown, but she doesn’t argue as the clerk rings me up and bags her stuff. I force myself to stop staring at her lips. Somewhere inside me, I feel an instant connection to this girl. But there’s no way in hell we’ve met before. I’d never forget a face like hers.

My temple throbs as the muscles in my legs start to twitch. It’s got to be the twelve hours of driving, or the four hours of sleep. But part of me wonders if it has something to do with this teenager. I’ve never wanted to get both closer and further away from someone so badly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.

“I know.” I pocket my change, and it takes everything I have to