LOST WITH YOU - Lisa Ann Verge Page 0,27
the reason lit up the air between them.
She dropped her gaze as the sizzle danced across her skin. “You can’t tell me you and Garrick spent every minute together. I’m sure he stayed behind to sneak a phone call or two while you went exploring.”
“Garrick and I can tune each other out.”
Can’t you tune me out?
“I can’t leave you here.” He tossed the mallet aside and hiked his hands on his hips. “Not all alone.”
“I’m not afraid of bears.”
“It’s not bears I’m worried about.” He gestured to the mud by the canoe, pockmarked with a series of impressions. “Those are moose tracks. This is a watering hole.”
She drew up her legs, curling into herself a fraction. They’d glimpsed a bull moose yesterday by the riverbank, its enormous antlers dripping. “He’ll smell us,” she said, not afraid enough, “and avoid the camp altogether.”
“Maybe. Better if you take a hike with me. A partner always makes the road easier.”
“I’m used to traveling alone.”
She dropped her head into her hands again, her hair falling forward, though there was no reason to veil her face. She’d been blunt enough. Did they really have to talk about this anymore? She was feeling weak in more ways than one.
“This is just work, Casey.” Through the tangled strands of her hair, she saw him crouch in front of her. “I know it’s hard.”
You have no idea.
“I have something for you.”
She heard him lean over, rifle through his pack. Then came a crackling sound, like he was squishing one of the dehydrated-food packs in his hands. But the sound was sharper, more papery, and familiar in a way that made her head lift.
Floating like a dream before her eyes was a chocolate bar, peeled halfway down to reveal the creamy brown goodness.
“What…?” She breathed in the wafting scent as her mouth watered. “You’ve been hiding this?”
“Deep in the food bin. For just such a moment.”
Choking down a squeal, she seized the bar and slipped it between her teeth. The rich taste of chocolate filled her mouth. Savoring the flavor, she let it melt on her tongue as her stomach all but purred in delight.
“I promise, Casey, we’ll be done with the hike within the hour.” He brushed her hair away from her face, careful not to touch her skin. “When we return, I’ll climb into the canoe and paddle ahead a mile or so, alone, to get a look at what’s coming. Then you’ll be rid of me for a while, at least until sunset. Okay?”
She was hardly listening. All her senses focused on the explosion of flavor on her tongue. The sugar shot through her bloodstream, lifting her mood and energy. Why hadn’t she recognized her low-blood-sugar symptoms? Now it seemed so obvious. With all the paddling, she’d squeezed the last of her body’s reserves.
She peeled her chocolate-drugged eyes open to look at him. “You knew this would happen.”
“You don’t have a lot of fat reserves.” His gaze dipped below her neck, briefly. “I knew you’d hit a wall.”
She tilted what was left of the bar at him, feeling newly vulnerable. “Tell me you have more of these.”
His smile flashed. “Dozens.”
She licked her lips, catching a crumb of chocolate that had escaped her, examining the bitten bar for the best angle of attack. “You anticipated everything, didn’t you?”
His smile softened as he pushed himself up. “Not quite everything.”
***
“Hey, Meriwether Lewis,” Casey shouted from behind him, “have we found the source of the Mississippi yet?”
Dylan glanced over his shoulder to where she climbed in his wake. The chocolate bar had revived her sense of humor as well as her grit. He flashed her a grin so she wouldn’t see how relieved he was at her candy-fueled resurrection. Back at the camp, her slumped shoulders and pale face had alarmed him, for more reasons than one.
“Almost there, Sacagawea.” He gripped a sapling for balance and pulled himself around a boulder. “I see light pouring through the trees just ahead, so we’re close.”
“The troops are rallied, Captain. Forge ahead.”
He tested the damp path, digging his tread deep to give her more traction as she followed in his footsteps. He’d made allowances for her weariness during this short hike from the camp, something he hadn’t done once since the trip began. Maybe he’d pushed too hard, seduced by her drive and competency, but he’d been trying to wear himself out, not her. The fact that she’d nearly collapsed made him realize he couldn’t put off any longer the critical decision he