Ransom (The Unchained Omegaverse #1) - Callie Rhodes Page 0,58

supplies in the cargo hold of the jeep.

Gretchen thought it might have been the best meal of life. She giggled, remembering a bridal shower she'd recently attended where the tea sandwiches that had looked so perfect stacked on a tiered silver platter ended up tasting like sawdust.

"What's so funny?"

Ransom was relaxing across the fire from her with his back against one of two logs he'd dragged over to serve as seating. He'd declared it safe to let the fire continue to burn after dark because the smoke dissipated by the time it drifted above the valley.

Besides, Ransom had no trouble sensing that there was no one around for miles. Well, besides the animals that called this countryside home.

It was funny how quickly her opinion of the wilderness had changed. Somewhere along the way, the message had cemented in her brain—stay close to Ransom, and nothing bad will happen.

"Nothing," she said. "Just wondering what my friends would think if they could see me now."

"You don't think they'd be impressed?"

Gretchen bit back a laugh. Her clothes were filthy. There was a tear in her blouse, and the hem of her skirt had fallen, exposing the raveling lining. Even Goodwill wouldn't accept these clothes. "Not even close."

At least her trusty shoes were holding up well. And the scratches and bruises from her various tumbles had healed. Not only that, her skin was starting to take on some color. Surprising, given that her pale skin usually burned after any time spent in the sun. She stretched out her hand and admired the lovely shade of golden brown in the flickering firelight.

"Well, then screw 'em," Ransom said. "Here, have the last bite."

Gretchen slid across the log to accept the perfectly cooked morsel, then closed her eyes to enjoy it.

There was another thing her friends would never understand—her newfound sensuality. Before she'd met Ransom, Gretchen prided herself on her practical disposition. She'd focused on the big picture, not dwelling on the details. But over the last few days, she found her savoring the little things—the flavor of freshly caught fish, the beauty of a waterfall, the heady feeling of Ransom's caress.

All the fear she'd felt that first night was gone. More surprisingly, so were her worries about Fulmer. Out here by Ransom's side, her anxiety had vanished like dandelion silk on a breeze.

Not forever—Gretchen was certain of that—but for now, in this magical velvety night in the wilderness she'd never known could be so magnificent. Far away from beta society with is rules and expectations and discrimination, from rising gas prices and rude store clerks and the men's-only clubs popping up all over downtown.

In the absence of distress, she could feel herself becoming more aware of all of the vibrant life around her. Had it always been like this, and she'd just never noticed?

Were there always so many insects buzzing in the grass? Had the wind always riffled the leaves to its own secret tune?

Gretchen tilted her head back to gaze up at the sky. A hundred million twinkling stars studded the heavens, and she couldn't get enough of the sight.

It was amazing how different the night sky looked from even a relatively modest-sized city like Omaha. It didn't take many streetlights and high rises to obscure the wonder of the sky.

But out here, they were free to shine. For the first time, Gretchen could see how the Milky Way had gotten its name—a trail of pinprick lights so dense it looked like it might have been painted by God's own glittering paintbrush.

Gretchen blushed at the notion. She wasn't ordinarily given to such poetic thoughts; years of expository writing had cured her of it. She wasn't one of those journalists with a half-written novel in the drawer—all she wanted to write was the truth.

"Still hungry?" Ransom asked. "Because I can catch a few more fish."

"No, I'm fine."

It wasn't exactly the truth.

Sure, there was nothing tangible Gretchen needed, like more food or water. She even had the opportunity to sleep with a roof over her head tonight—granted, one made of some sort of high-tech fabric—and an inflatable pad Ransom had scoffed at but blown up for her nevertheless.

But she still needed something.

Without even thinking about it, Gretchen scooted to the end of her log, where she was closer to Ransom.

"The smoke will get in your eyes over here," he observed, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But suit yourself."

Gretchen blushed again. She'd been doing that a lot tonight. She couldn't seem to help it.

She felt