Blake moved through the forest seamlessly. He was part of it, one with it. He knew the stray roots before he came to them, and he sidestepped what looked to be poison ivy without a second look. He glided directly to the ranger’s station, not pausing once, only stopping when he came to the door.
He put me down. We both lingered there for a moment, staring at the door neither of us wanted to go through. I didn’t want this magical day to end.
“So,” I said.
“So,” Blake said, turning to me.
His eyes were on me, and they had that same intent look from before that excited me. And frightened me. I glanced away. I was a nervous schoolgirl under that intense gaze of his.
“Can you…check to see if there are any spiders by my bed?” I asked.
As soon as the request was out of my lips, I frowned, embarrassed by the ridiculousness of it. But when I chanced a glance at Blake, he was smiling.
“Sure.”
He opened the door and held it for me. When I walked through, I got a strong whiff of his pine scent. As I waited off to the side and then followed Blake when he passed, the smell made me ache with longing.
Once we reached the side I slept on, Blake carried out his inspection, lifting my sleeping bag half, shaking it, crouching down and scanning the floor and walls with his flashlight.
Finally, he gave me a reassuring smile. “Your biggest predator tonight will be a bit of dust; that’s all.”
“Great,” I said.
I paused, waiting for him to go, but he didn’t. We stared at each other awkwardly while worried questions churned through my head. Was I supposed to slip under the covers with him just standing there? Why was he still just standing there anyway, looking at me like that?
Finally, he said, “Here, you’re probably pretty tired. I’ll tuck you in.”
His voice was light, and my answer was too. “Sure. Thanks.”
I lay down on the purple carpet, curled up onto the side I always slept on, and looked up at him. He was still looking down on me, lost in his own world. Catching my eye, he picked up the sleeping bag half, swooshed it out, and laid it over me. Then, kneeling, he tucked it all around my body, by my feet, my back, my torso. The top part he tucked under my chin, where he paused.
Our eyes were locked. His face was advancing toward mine, his eyes still with that intent gaze. An inch away from my lips, he froze.
CHAPTER TEN
“Good night, Claire,” he said.
By the time my “good night, Blake” was said, he was halfway across the room, hurriedly shoving himself under his own sleeping bag half. He switched off the flashlight, and, in the dark, I stared at him. Did what I thought almost happen just happen?
Could he actually feel how I did? And, God, what were we going to do if he did?
The next morning, I woke up, rolled over, and saw an empty bed. I stared at it for a minute, imagining Blake there, rolling over, giving me a long, morning-time stare back. I rolled back over to my other side and got up. It was surprisingly easy. My legs moved with a wonderfully excited energy.
I bounded outside to find two pieces of toast on a tree stump and Blake, sitting by the fire, finishing his own toast.
“Just in time,” Blake said mid-chew.
As I reached for my pieces, I tried to casually study his face, but I found nothing—no change, no sign of what might have almost happened last night.
“It’s 7 a.m. You’re up early,” Blake said with a good-humored smile.
“Yeah,” I said, biting into the first piece. “I feel…really good actually. Can’t remember the last time I had this much energy.”
Blake grinned. “Living out here by nature and eating simpler food will do that for you.”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said.
I chewed slowly and didn’t say anything else. I didn’t want to admit that this newfound energy was also from no more Angelo, no more late nights worrying what he was doing.
“You good?” Blake asked, probably noticing the change in my face.
“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice light. “What’s the plan for today?”
Blake glanced over at the fire. “We’re on fire duty. We used almost all the timber in our first fire. I want to get a good supply going, enough for a week or so. I already caught a rabbit for dinner, so all we need is fire.”
I avoided looking in the direction Blake gestured, to the gray slump of fur that I knew was the rabbit. I knew hunting was necessary, but I still felt uncomfortable about seeing what I was going to eat like that.
Once our toast was finished, it was time for our timber hunt. Each searching session was fairly brief, only a half hour or so, during which we filled our arms to the brink with dry sticks.