I glance up, pressing my lips together. I need to finish my morning routine and go for a run, but I could put that off this one time. Changing my routine throws me off some, but I can do this. Where? I sign. This would be our second date. Another adventure with him. Each one is something new and exciting.
He raises his eyebrows and fingerspells, Denali? He’s asking me. He’s grasping American Sign Language more and more every time he communicates with me.
That’s a 3-hour drive, I type.
He hands the phone back. Or a 45-minute flight.
I contemplate and know I’m not ready. My hand is shaking when Jamison takes the phone back and starts typing again.
Or we can take a hike here. My property stretches for acres. Mom bought most of the land for miles behind this cabin. She told me there were hidden treasures out there, even gave me maps and trail markers. Never actually found anything, but she kept me entertained with it as a kid.
He takes the anxiety away with his words again. Sharing his secrets, talking about his mom. Regardless, if I was trying to work up the courage to fly, I want this more. Him sharing a part of his mother with me means so much.
Maybe it’s still out there? I haven't been treasure hunting since I lost Maddie.
I work to find my boots and gather my parents’ old treasure-hunting stuff. I grab the hand tools, a shovel, and a metal detector. I hold it up for Jamison to inspect, my brows raised. He agrees it could be helpful, so I pass it over and continue collecting things. My parents never parted with these things, even after we lost Maddie. None of us have been out in years, but Jamison has lit a passion in me for this adventure since he’s shared his mom with us.
We head to Jamison’s house next so he can pack us a bag.
I start to wonder if this was all a sly ploy by his mom or if a passionate hunter wanted to give her son an adventure. I’m praying for the latter, because there’s a spark of fun springing up in both of us. After yesterday, we need it.
I catch Jamison’s attention when he zips the bag closed. The bag contains food and water, a compass, and personal locator beacons. He said it was the SAR in him.
Do you still have the map? Any clues?
Jamison contemplates, laughs, and raises a finger, so I give him a moment. When he returns, he points at me, then signs, No laughing.
He passes over a worn notebook. The book is full of scribbled notes and a map. I can’t keep it contained. I laugh, then cover my mouth. It’s seriously the best thing. We are going to find this treasure because he definitely spent some time planning this out as a kid.
He comes in close and takes my face in his hands, his eyes crinkled in the corners. He’s laughing, his shoulders jerking with the movement. Jamison steals my lips, and another piece of my anxiety about us falls away.
When he breaks away, he signs, I love the sound of that.
We spend the rest of the morning searching and actually find a few of the hidden caches she hid.
Chapter Twelve
Jamison
It’s been two weeks and five long-ass days since I kissed Claire and had her in my arms. I need to hold her again. I need to hear the little gasps she gives when I steal her lips. I have to see her, be in her presence.
The texts and letters aren’t enough anymore. I need my fix. I’m not going to make it another two weeks until she drives up to see her parents.
That’s how I’ve found myself taking the highway south this Friday night. I texted her hours ago. She said she had plans to lounge out on her couch and watch movies while snuggled up with a blanket. I told her I wanted the same. She said too bad I wasn’t close enough; I could just come over.
Well, I took that as an open invitation. I packed an overnight bag and started driving. Sure, it’s presumptuous. But I live life that way. I always do what I want, when I want. So with a twangy country song playing and the evening air hitting me, I drive toward what I want.
I make the drive with a smile on my face and comfort in my heart. It’s an adventure being with Claire. I never know what to expect, and I thrive on that. Ever since she’s stepped into my world, I want things I’ve never wanted before.
It takes me no time at all before I’m pulling into her driveway. I haven’t even planned a date for us, but that’s okay. She doesn’t like extravagant displays of affection. The last time we had a date planned, she freaked out. She prefers when it’s something simple and just us. And for tonight, I’ll be happy to just sit next to her and pick up whatever her plans are for the night.
After the two-hour drive, the sun hangs low in the sky, casting a pink hue across the evening. I press Claire’s doorbell and wait. She opens the door in an old pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, and her blonde hair is a tangled mess atop her head. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth drops open.
She slams the door shut. I can’t help but burst out in laughter. I press the doorbell again. It’s a long pause before she slightly opens the door. I wait for the rest, but she doesn’t open it further, so I do it myself. I step inside, and she’s nowhere to be seen.
I shake my head and set my gym bag down on the floor. Again presumptuous, but I’m hoping to be staying all weekend. I’m not so much of a gentleman that I got a hotel before coming over. I’ll get one if she doesn’t want me here, but I’m pretty damn confident I’ll be sleeping with her in my arms again.
After slipping my shoes off, I go searching for her. Her bedroom door is ajar, so I stick my hand in enough to find her light switch. I flick the light a couple times. I’ve seen her dad do it before, and it’s like knocking on her door.