“Sparky, Kodiak, get over here and help with the tent.” He looks down at me and winks.
My heart turns itself all the way around in my chest. The damn man is going to be my downfall.
When the water begins to boil, Kodiak saunters over from where he was “helping” Jareth and Sparky and rubs my cheek.
His wet nose tickles, and I shrug a shoulder to wipe away the drool. “What? Not going to give me another mud bath?”
He licks at a dried clump of dirt still hanging on my shirt.
“It’s okay, I’m not mad anymore. Well, irritated, but not angry.” I scratch under his chin. “You going to go hunt his morning?”
His blue and brown eyes peer into mine as if able to view the depths of my soul. He sniffs my hair and then turns his nose up and yawns.
“Well, aren’t you the lazy one. Let me guess, Jareth slipped you some wet food, didn’t he?”
He looks at me again at the mention of Jareth’s name and woofs.
“Uh huh, I thought so. You know you’re going to get fat if you keep eating what he offers, and guess what? When he runs out of food, you’ll have to take your pudgy little butt out into the woods and start hunting again.”
Kodiak’s face looks unperturbed. When Jareth seats himself next to me on the log, the dog jumps and joins him.
“Traitor.”
“Nah.” Jareth’s fingers drag through the fur on his back.
“Whatever.” An inchworm dangles in a web. “Dog food before loyalty. I see how it is.”
Jareth searches my face for a moment. “Oh, come on, Red. Leave the poor guy alone. He’s earned his treats. You wouldn’t deny him tasty food, would you?”
I look at my best friend. He watches my face, panting through his grin. “Only if we came across some bacon.”
The dog casts his eyes downward and hangs his head. “Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.”
This man who sits beside me, who causes such conflict in my heart, widens his smile. “What food do you miss the most? Or anything, for that matter?”
Taking my time, I think about his question. It’s easier to list what I don’t miss, than what I do miss. I lean forward and check on the coffee.
“There’re so many things, like walking through the park and seeing children run on the playground. Or families gathering around a grill to celebrate a birthday. I miss the sound of airplanes in the air, and the noise of traffic as cars drive down a road.”
A flock of birds fly in a V pattern above, and I admire their freedom. “I miss pizza, hamburgers, chocolate cake, and ice cream. I want to read Stephen King novels, or spend all day browsing a library without a care in the world.”
My eyes close with the memories, and my fingers dunk the packet of coffee up and down in the pitcher.
“At night, I wish I could listen to music. I want to hear Coldplay, Bowie, Rammstein, Pink Floyd—hell, I’d even listen to shit-kicking music if that’s my one choice.”
The nutty, rich scent of the coffee fills the air. Kodiak lifts an ear.
“Not for you, boy.” I pour two cups, one for me and the other for Jareth.
“Thanks.” Jareth blows on the top.
I settle onto the log and wrap my hands around the chipped plastic mug, enjoying the transfer of heat to my cold fingers.
“Been looking forward to this.” He stretches his legs out and crosses them at the ankles. When he lifts the cup to his mouth, the red and black tattoo on his forearm peeks out.
Up close, more of it’s visible. A bright red starburst, the edges outlined in black, stretches up the skin. My eyes squint and I crane my neck closer.
Small silver lines shoot from the tips of the points and meet in the middle of the star. The design’s intriguing, with distinct lines and colors that make it appear three dimensional. If I reach to touch it, I’m sure the upraised bumps of those edges would rub against my fingers.
The sound of him snapping pulls me out of my examination.
“Red? You still there?” A knowing glint reflects unbridled laughter. “You know, if you want to see it that bad, you can ask. I’ll be happy to remove my shirt.”
I sip coffee to hide my embarrassment.
Sheesh, might as well undress him with my eyes, again. What am I doing? He’s the one who acts like sex on legs, yet somehow—I’m ogling him all the time.
From the corner of my eye, his gaze pierces me like a hundred miniscule needles. I can almost hear the laughter in his inky stare.
Why can’t I control myself when he’s near? I decide to distract him with a question, because I can’t take his silent, knowing mirth.
“What do you miss most, Jareth?”
His head turns to the small fire, and he bends forward to put a couple of MREs on a rock to warm.
According to the label on the food package, one can eat freeze-dried eggs and sausage years after an apocalypse. Should I be excited or terrified at what we’re about to ingest?
He returns to the log, a little closer than before. A long thigh brushes my jeans when he settles, and bare skin flashes through the frayed holes. “You know what I miss most.”
I nod. “Family.”
“Besides them, I don’t miss a lot from—before. My life was complicated. There was always some crisis needing attention, or an idiotic dispute requiring some sort of judgment.”
Sounds like he was a lawyer.
I try to picture him in a courtroom and almost burst from amusement. Just one of those heated gazes directed to the judge, and he’d be charged with contempt and thrown out on his ear, or worse, spend time in a six by six cell complete with a sink, toilet, and bed bolted to concrete.
He toys with the short scruff on his jaw and runs his fingers over his lips as if in thought.
“I guess the thing I miss—but didn’t realize it until recent events—is sharing my life with others. Being there for them, and them for me. I miss—” His voice drops an octave. “—I miss having someone need me. Someone to care about. Not a group of people or society, but that one special person who sees me as I am, not some trumped-up personification of who they think I should be.”
Long fingers pick at a piece of loose bark on the log, and he looks away, like he’s surprised or embarrassed by his words. A few seconds pass, then he tosses the piece of wood into the fire and wipes his hands on his jeans.
He turns to breakfast and focuses on the dull, yellow bags. Flipping them over, he makes sure they heat all the way through.
The forest is full of activity. About twenty feet away, the boughs of a pine tree droop with dozens of cooing doves. A slight breeze stirs the air. Damp oak leaves flutter around camp, their vibrant colors creating a landscape of bright oranges and yellows.
His words strike a chord deep within my soul. Whatever career he had in his past life must’ve been hectic and unfulfilling. The loneliness pulls at me, too. I understand the isolation, because isn’t it the whole reason I’m trying to reach my sister? To find that one person left who cares for me, and whom I love in return?
I hesitate, then brush the top of his hand with my fingers before pulling back. “You’ll find someone again, I’m sure.”
Dilated pupils bore into my soul until I take another sip of coffee with trembling hands.
“I think I already have.”
My spine straightens like a puppet, and I grab one of the packages of fake eggs and tear into it, praying he doesn’t elaborate.
Chapter Fourteen
Today’s journey is another twelve or thirteen miles closer to Sissy, and my lower limbs groan in protest. “Ugh.” I reach down and rub my calves. “My feet are killing me.”
Jareth puts a hand on my arm. “Let’s make camp. The map shows a stream or creek close by.” He takes in my mud-encrusted clothes. “In case you want to wash up.”
I pull my shirt out. Brown paw prints decorate the dingy t-shirt. “Not really but guess I don’t have a choice.”
It’s late afternoon, and bright sunlight pea
ks through fluffy clouds as they float above our heads.
Kodiak ambles to my leg and nips at my fingertips.
A quick scratch behind his ears causes a leg to thump on the ground. I can’t resist the urge to tease one more time. “If you were a devoted friend, you’d be out there hunting some clean clothes since you ruined these.”
He chuffs, then lowers his belly all the way to the ground to rest his head on his front paws.
“Damn it, I’m such a sucker.” Lowering a shoulder, I slide my backpack off and reach inside. When I find what I’m looking for, I open the package and throw a piece of jerky confiscated from the house.
Kodiak lifts his head, sniffs, then runs to lift the meat from the grass.
“Pretty boy here isn’t the only one who has treats.” Feeling adventurous, I throw a quick wink Jareth’s way.
He licks his bottom lip, and the tip of his crooked tooth scrapes across the skin. “Got any treats in that bag for me?”
“Hmm, let me see.” My hand roams inside for a few seconds. “Oh, what’s this?” In no hurry, I pull my arm out and keep my fist closed.
His body towers over me while he peers inside the backpack, face taut with attention.
I almost feel bad—almost.
Teasing with exaggerated slowness, I twist my wrist, so the covered palm faces the sky.
He puckers his lips and a line forms between those striking black brows.
“For you.” I hold my arm out and, with excruciating slowness, extend my middle finger.
A breath blows from his mouth, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “I accept.” He prowls toward me, steps confident and menacing.
“W-what?” I back away, wary and regretting my spontaneous joke.
“Isn’t that the sign when someone wants to have sex?”
Realizing I’m still extending the finger, I shove my hand in a pocket. The sharp bark of a tree pokes my back. “No, it’s an insult.” A couple of inches separate our bodies, and my chest rises and falls while I try to gulp air.
Damn, I should’ve thought this through a little better.
He exudes male power, and the waves wash over and leave me weak. The aromas of soap and evergreens swirl around my face and hair.
Sunlight bathes his body in yellow light, and a moth flaps its wings while it flies past his hair.
His finger reaches out and tugs one of my long locks. He twirls it around his finger, then lifts it to his nose. “You’re like a puzzle. I never know what you’re going to say or do, and it’s incredibly refreshing—and tempting.”
Words stick in my throat. I want to tell him I feel the same way, but then my sister’s face swims in my mind. Survive and find Sissy, that’s the goal, not fall in love and fail.
A yellowish-green grasshopper jumps on my shoulder, and I swipe it away.
The moment passes, and Jareth releases my hair. Those kissable lips turn downward, and he sighs. When he walks away, he takes the warmth of the sun with him.
I let my head lean against the tree trunk, even though the bark tries to tear into my spine. Was that disappointment on his face? Pressure forms in my chest at the unspoken words still sitting in my mouth. I want to tell him I love being with him, I love teasing him, and I love his gentle touch. But I can’t. I haven’t come this far to jeopardize my chances of finding Sissy.
He’s studying the map when I work up enough courage to return to camp. “Hey, Red.” The paper flaps in the breeze, then he folds and stuffs it into his rucksack. “I’m going to do a quick check of the area, but there’s something I want to show you when I get back.”
“Oh, I get to stay at camp and play Jane again while you’re out there beating your chest, Tarzan?”
His face scrunches. “Huh?”
“Have you never watched Tarzan?”
He scratches an eyebrow. “Guess not.”
I shake my head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Go do man stuff while I tend to the house.”
Sparky and Kodiak scout the edge of the trees for fallen branches and twigs. The robot’s getting the hang of firewood collection and making himself useful.
While Jareth does a perimeter sweep, I drag his pack across the ground, spilling the tent supplies onto the grass.
Kodiak runs in my direction and barks.
“Wanna help?”
That hairy tail of his wags with excitement. Grabbing the extendable rods with his teeth, he pulls them out, one by one. Holding the metal in his mouth, he carries and drops each pole at my feet.
The little copse that makes tonight’s camp has more Cypress trees than before—Louisiana’s close. Dark green Spanish moss hangs from a few branches, whispering and undulating in the gentle wind.
Kodiak and I finish the tent and stand back to admire the challenging work.
Limbs crack and snap near my side.
Reaching for my pistol, I see Jareth appearing through a gap in the trees. He motions me over with a quick twist of his wrist. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
I eye him, but don’t make a move. “Eh, I don’t know. Can’t you show me right now?” He props a shoulder against a trunk and twirls a small twig between his fingers. “No, because I can’t pick it up.”
My curiosity gets the best of me, and I get moving.
Sparky and Kodiak follow, but Jareth holds out a hand. “Not you, Sparky.”
The robot holds his hands on his hips, and the gesture reminds me of someone with a pissed off attitude. “I wish to accompany Tilly and see what this—surprise—is.”
Jareth takes Sparky by the arm and pulls him away from the group. He talks in a low voice, using hand gestures to explain something. After a couple of minutes, the robot travels in the opposite direction.
When Jareth returns, his dimple jumps.
I point toward the area Sparky heads. “What was that about?”
He slides an arm around my shoulders and leads me ahead. “Don’t you worry about it.” His mouth presses to my ear. “It’s a secret.”
The weight across my neck is comforting, but it’s a struggle to think with him in my space.
That distinct Jareth smell and blazing heat radiates across my skin. “Secrets suck ass. Nothing good ever comes from hiding something.”
Kodiak bounds ahead, sniffing with interest and marking several trees along the way. A small, brown squirrel runs across the leaf-strewn forest floor, and the chase is on.
Several more feet inside the trees, a gurgling noise rises above the normal chatter of squirrels, insects, and birds. A stream, five foot or so across, cuts through the forest. The liquid is so clear I can see smooth, brown stones and gray pebbles on the bottom, coated with mossy algae. The water’s not deep, but the thought of being able to wash away the muck on my clothes and body is too tempting.
When I bend toward the water, one of Kodiak’s prey runs across my foot and I shoot up again. Losing my foothold, I stumble and fall backward.
Kodiak rushes behind the critter, legs pumping like they’re on fire, and uses me as a springboard.
“Goddamn it to hell, dog. You’re going to be the death of me. Son of a bitch.”
Jareth extends a hand and helps me to my feet.
I brush twigs, leaves, and more mud away.
“Such a dirty mouth, Red. I can’t decide if I want to throw you down and kiss it clean or goad you further and see if you have a limit.” The set of his strong, straight shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, make him wicked, daring, and sinful.
Oh, dear God. My insides squirm and clench. Images of his heavy, solid body on top of my own, mouth pressed to my lips, cause the breath to strangle in my throat.
I take a half step behind me, but stop, unsure what my course of action should be, or what I want. Plus, the stream is a few paces away, blocking retreat. The saliva in my mouth dries when I picture those tapered fingers tracing over my hips, pelvis grinding with my own.
Hello brain? Snap out of it.
My voice is low and
even. “You wouldn’t dare.”
An evil grin curves one side of his mouth, and there’s mischief sparkling in his eyes. Before I can push past, he has one arm behind my shoulders and the other under my knees, lifting me into the air like I weigh nothing more than a feather.
“Put me down right now, jackass.” I beat my fists on his chest.
His arms tighten, and his voice is gruff. “Just so you know, I never pass up a dare.”
My hands might as well be pummeling rock. That crooked tooth teases me, and I swallow. Heat floods my cheeks and neck. His breath washes over my hair, kisses my skin, and flows into my lungs. He’s around me, on me, and in me—intoxicating and overwhelming. My doom.
I sit in his arms and stare like a country bumpkin, as if I’ve never encountered such a masculine specimen of the opposite sex.
Well, compared to him, you haven’t.
Before I can speak, he goes to his knees and dumps me amid leaves and dirt.
“What the—?” My arms reach backward and thump on the soft ground, breaking the short fall.
Brows furrowing, I sit. “What in the hell are you—”
My voice dies when he stretches an arm toward me and slides it behind my neck. The touch skates over my sensitized skin, causing little tingles where our flesh meets. With slight pressure, his hand guides me closer to his body.
Our faces are only an inch apart, and this close, in broad daylight, his gaping shirt shows edges of more tattoos on his chest. My tongue traces my lips at the glimpse of muscle and skin.
That soothing voice drags my eyes back to his. “You’re making me reckless, Red. One look at your face and I lose myself.”
His compliment makes my already burning cheeks combust into mini detonations. I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt pretty, but right here, covered in mud and God knows what else, his sincere words go straight to my heart.
The autumn spice of dead, crushed leaves floats on the air.
“Flattery doesn’t get you out of this, asshole.” The usual sting to my words is not there, and I think he knows it.
Clucking his tongue, he smirks. “There it is, that dirty mouth. What am I going to do with you?” His gaze is physical as it trails down my neck. He pushes fingers through my hair and cradles the back of my head.
The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1) Page 24
