a warm flutter, thinking about all their many kisses. It was probably good that Jelly had burst into the garage, searching for her roller skates, otherwise they might never have come up for air.
Now, inside her car, she waited, but he didn’t try to kiss her.
“I made you a map,” she said.
“A map? You made me a map?”
“It’s simple. Not like yours. But yeah.” She grabbed it from the backseat and handed it to him.
She loved the careful way he unrolled it, bit by bit, inch by inch. He spread it across his lap, gently curling the ends back so the paper would stay open. His finger traced the lines and shapes and colors she’d made for him.
“We’ve been so many places together.”
She nodded, even though he had his eyes on the map, not her. She watched his face, serious and thoughtful, shift and react.
“What’s this?” He pointed to a swirl she’d marked beyond the dry gym, outside of town, past the industrial area, but not so far as the Travis Center.
That was her biggest surprise. If she was right.
“I think that’s the cave that might connect with ours.”
When he turned to her, his gaze felt like he was peeking into her mind. And liked what he saw.
“Let’s go find it.” He buckled his seat belt.
She drove, with Cotton giving directions, using a combination of her map and his GPS to guide her to the spot she’d marked on the map.
When they got there, it looked like someone’s yard, surrounding a small white house, with rose bushes growing by the door. Nice. Ordinary. Except for the barbed-wire fence surrounding it. Metal signs had been nailed into the large wooden posts between the lengths of wire: KEEP OUT. NO TRESPASSING.
“Too bad. It’s on private property.”
“Let’s get out and look around.” She buzzed with the maybe of a new cave.
“We are not allowed here. There is barbed wire.”
“We’ll park in that parking lot we passed,” she said, turning the car around. “We can go for a walk—outside the barbed wire—and see what we see. They’ll never know we’re here.”
Even though he looked reluctant, she pulled into an empty parking lot. She drove behind a large cement building and parked. He had his head down, and his fingers fidgeted with the seam of his jeans.
“We can simply go for a walk.”
“We can simply go for a walk,” he echoed her words.
Ria tried to read his quiet as he walked beside her along the road. She wasn’t sure if it was worry or concentration as he scanned both sides of the road. Maybe he was working out the map of it in his head. She imagined his brain taking in each rise and fall of the ground, absorbing the spot where the trees faded into shrubs. At least his shoulders were back now, his head up, eyes wide and bright. It was good to be moving.
When the fence drifted away from the asphalt, he followed her through the thick and overgrown grass. It felt isolated. It was hard to remember—or even believe—that the road was a short fifteen-minute walk away.
The barbed-wire fence jutted up against a wall built of stones and mortar. She ran her hands along the rough of it. It was old and crumbling, but she loved the way it felt somewhere between natural and made.
She turned to ask Cotton about it and found him staring at her. Damn. He hadn’t even touched her, but still her body quivered and tingled. She felt melted and buzzed and tired and wired, all at the same time. Logic not required. She licked her lips with anticipation, waiting for his kiss.
He looked away. Walked along the line of the wall.
Ria swallowed. Forced her inner core to return to normal temperature. Misread. She looked up, eyeing the rocks.
She scrambled up with the rocks and mortar serving as a precarious ladder. At the top, she sat on the damp mossy ledge with her legs dangling.
“Come down. It’s still their fence. Even if it’s not barbed wire.”
“Why would they mind us being here? What are they hiding?” She kicked her feet against the rocks.
“Fences are for protection. They want to keep their family safe.”
“We won’t hurt anything. Besides, once we’re in the cave, that’s a new place. That’s not what they own.”
“They would disagree. If a cave entrance is on your property, then it’s yours.”
“But how far in? At some point it’s not their land anymore.” She wasn’t sure why she was arguing the point. It’s not like