Page 18 of Lost With You
Casey handed her empty cup to Anne and turned toward the lake, but Anne stopped her again.
“There’s one thing you’d better know right now, Casey Michaels.” Anne’s jaw tightened. “I’m absolutely, positivelynotbuying another bridesmaid’s dress.”
“Sorry?”
“You won’t like it if I wear the one from Dylan’s first wedding. So I suggest you opt for the burgundy velvet I wore at Bill’s wedding. Are you good with that?”
What the heck was she talking about? “Anne…I’m not sure—”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Anne released her with a sharp nod. “I know my brother, Casey. I know how this is going to end.”
CHAPTER SIX
First Day Out.
Dylan curled a hand around a mallet and pounded in the last tent stake on a spit of land on the north bank of the river. He’d thought this tent would be big enough when he’d envisioned sharing it with Garrick. They’d camped often enough to know the rhythm of each other’s snoring, to shove each other if they kicked in the night. But as he imagined himself and Casey inside this nylon shelter, close and warm…he wished he’d bought a damn circus tent.
“Hey,” she said from where she tended the fire, lifting two freeze-dried packets in his direction. “Chicken teriyaki or beef stroganoff?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Pick one, MacCabe.”
“Beef.”
He hauled up to his feet, frustration fueling his hunger. While he’d been away from the camp gathering firewood, she’d changed into an oversized pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, now zipped to her throat. The air hadn’t cooled significantly yet, and the mosquitoes hadn’t quite started biting, but he knew why she was double-wrapped.
A whistling sound rose from a kettle perched on a grate above the fire. Casey leaned over with an oven mitt to slide it off the flame, her hair pulled up into a messy topknot his fingers itched to loosen.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said, pouring hot water into the bowls she’d filled with their dehydrated meals. “I feel like I should finish that sentence by calling you ‘honey.’”
“Honey,” he said, “you can call me anything you want.”
He rounded the tent and caught her dying smile. So much for cutting the tension between them. He saw, on her pale face, that she was worrying about sharing the tent. She sensed the intimacy to come. He wasn’t helping much, standing here, looming.
“I know you packed a camp stove.” She held out his bowl at the full stretch of her arm. “And yet we have a fire. I guess you’re saving fuel?”
“For when it rains, yes.”And you and I will be stuck in the tent for hours, with nothing to do but…
“Should we hang the food in the trees or something?” She dropped down near the fire, cross-legged, cradling her own bowl. “Keep it away from bears?”
“The bin you dug these out of is airtight and scent-locked.” He sat on the opposite side, putting a hot fire between them. “We’re good just keeping it buried in the stern of the canoe.”
She nodded and dipped her head to shovel the grayish dinner into her mouth. He put a spoonful in his own mouth, but tasted nothing.
“You know,” she said, leaning over her dinner, “this isn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Because you’re hungry.”
“I am.” She narrowed her eyes above the rim of the bowl. “I’m starving because somebody was determined to wear me out today.”
She’d figured that out? He thought he’d been so subtle.
“How many extra miles did you push me, Dylan?”
“A few more than we needed to do.” He squinted up at the clear sky, the stars just beginning to wink against the growing darkness. “We had good weather, a smooth lake, and a fresh start. We won’t always be so lucky.”
She tilted her head in that fetching way that made him want to kiss the bend between her neck and shoulder. “So pushing me to exhaustion was just about logging as many miles as possible?”
