Page 40 of Kind of a Bad Idea

I arch a teasing brow, loving that I don’t have to fight the urge to flirt with him anymore. “Oh yeah? How are you going to do that? Especially if you’re working on staining cabinets all day?”

He hums low in his throat. “Maybe I could be convinced to leave the cabinets for another day and take you on an adventure instead.”

I sit up straighter, every cell in my body perking up. “Now, you’re talking. What kind of adventure?” I wrinkle my nose as I add, “As long as it doesn’t involve too much walking. My wowies are much better, but a long walk probably isn’t a great idea.”

He smiles, a fond grin that makes me want to crawl across the table and into his arms. “Wowies… You’ve been spending too much time with Sprout.”

“I like that she calls them wowies. Much more badass than owie. Makes a wound sound like a badge of honor.”

“It does,” he agrees. “I was thinking we could take the four-wheeler out to a place I know. I checked this morning and our kidnappers forgot to empty the gas tank. We still have enough left to get us halfway to Bad Dog if we wanted.”

I bite my lip. “But you don’t want…do you? I know I don’t.”

He shakes his head as he reaches across the table, looping his fingers around my wrist. “No, I don’t. I want to soak up every second I have left with you.”

The reminder that we have an expiration date brings us both down for a second, but then Seven adds, “And I want to fuck you in one of my favorite places in the world,” and my blood starts buzzing again.

I lean in, asking, “In the outdoors? Isn’t that kind of scandalous?”

“The bathtub is outdoors.”

“Well, yes, but it’s on a porch, close to a house. That’s almost indoors. And it was dark out. Getting busy in the middle of the day in the woods is another thing entirely. There could be game cameras anywhere. You never know.”

He winks. “Who said it was in the woods?”

I arch a brow. “Um, look around. There’s nothing but woods around here. It has to be in the woods.”

“Does it?” He turns my hand over, tracing a line up my wrist to my forearm with his finger that makes me burn. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see. You’ll want to pack a sweatshirt. I know it’s weirdly warm today, but it might not be where we’re going.”

I tap my foot beneath the table, my thoughts racing. “Might not be where we’re going… Is it a cave? It’s a cave, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not telling.”

“It has to be a cave. That’s the only logical explanation for why it would be colder and not in the forest. But it has to be a cave without bats, okay? Tessa and Wesley had to get rabies shots after they went crawling around in a cave with bats. It sounded horrific. It was like…half a dozen shots spread out over a month or something.”

His smile widens. “Head back and grab your sweatshirt and the water bottles. I’ll check on the four-wheeler and meet you in the shed.”

I scrunch my face into an expression of exaggerated irritation. “No bats. I’m serious. I can’t deal with bats. Rabies is serious business, and they’re way too rodent adjacent. They’re basically rats with wings, and I’ve already been attacked by a groundhog.”

“Attacked might be a strong word,” he says, releasing my hand and rising from his side of the table. “Tater Tot was just trying to be friendly.” He leans in, lowering his voice as he begins to stack our plates. “Don’t look now, but I think he’s still a fan of yours. He’s been hiding out in the leaves over there eyeing your tasty backside for a while now.”

I flinch and spin to look behind me, making Seven laugh.

Once I’m sure the leaves are groundhog-free, I spin back to him, smacking his arm as I stand. “What a jerk you are. Making fun of my rodent phobia isn’t funny.”

“Kind of funny,” he says. “I’ve never seen you afraid of anything before. It’s a novel experience.”

“I’m afraid of lots of things,” I say, stacking our coffee mugs on top of the plates. “I’m just good at hiding it most of the time.”

He sobers, his brow furrowing. “Like what? And why do you hide it?”

I shrug, but hold his gaze as I ask, “I don’t know, why do any of us hide our weak spots? The world isn’t really a safe place for weakness. I mean, you hide your weak spots, too.”

“What weak spots?” he quips with that easy grin I’m coming to love.

He should grin like that more often, but only for me.

When I shoot him a narrow look, he tips his head in acknowledgement of the fact that he might have a weak spot or two. “Yeah, I do. But it’s not socially acceptable for men to be weak. Not in the circles I run in anyway.”

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