Page 47 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

His words were true, but the stubborn side of Ellie wanted to rebel, to simply wait by the bike until he returned.

But it was being out voted by the curious, entranced par

t of her that caught up to him at a jog. In the distance, the first hoot of an owl sung its haunting song and the canopy of trees overhead had her looking around for any other critters coming out to greet the moon.

“Are you nervous or something?” Mike asked.

“No, I just hate surprises,” Ellie said.

Mike shot her another sly grin. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to like this one.”

Still skeptical, she followed him until they came to the bank of the Snake River, and Mike pointed up into a huge bare tree on the other side of the bank.

“Watch. He always flies home just about sundown.”

Ellie knew the large nest in the tree had to belong to an eagle. It was just too big to be a hawk’s nest.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Ellie caught her breath. The bald eagle flying above their heads was glorious. His wide, black wings glided on the wind as he soared closer to his nest, and they tucked as he landed. She wished she had binoculars or something so she could get a closer look. She could tell his head was turning this way and that, as if he sensed them there.

“He’s beautiful,” she said breathlessly. “I’m surprised he stays for the trout when he could migrate.”

“There is another nest on the way to Buhl, but for the most part, they don’t hang long. There is this place in Wendell where they gather during their migration and you’ll see upwards of a hundred, several on every branch. It’s amazing. If you stop by the photography studio in town, Gregg or Ryan Phillips will show you.”

“I’ve never seen them migrate,” Ellie said.

“You’ve lived here your whole life and never seen it?”

She shook her head.

“If you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll take you,” Mike said.

Ellie shifted her gaze from the bird to the man. “When does this happen?”

“April.”

Ellie’s heart hammered at the implication. “I guess I better be on my best behavior.”

Mike didn’t say anything but his intense, dark stare was turning her insides to goo.

Mike moved slowly, and in two steps he was a hairsbreadth away from her, one of his hands cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed her bottom lip and a quiver rolled through her body, pooling between her legs. Her lips parted of their own violation and Mike’s head dipped.

Closing her eyes, she waiting for the warmth of his mouth, the press of his lips…

“I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid if I do, it will screw up something great.”

Ellie’s eyes snapped open and she stared into his eyes, their faces so close she could feel his breath against her mouth. Teasing her, tempting her.

What she wanted to do was grab the back of his head and kiss him, but he was right. As much as she wanted to kiss him, was attracted to him, he wasn’t for her. He was for the faceless good girl who wanted to bake cookies and plant roses and pop out babies right away.

Ellie hated her faceless guts.

“If you kissed me right now, I’d let you, but we both know it’s a bad idea.”

She backed away from him and her feet felt as stubborn as cement blocks. She didn’t want to put distance between them, but it was the only way she was going to keep her hands to herself.

“What we have…” She paused, trying to think of the right way to say it. “We started off hating each other, and now we’re almost fiends. We have fun and I know I can cross lines, but I think we’re better off keeping our relationship platonic.”

Mike didn’t say anything for several minutes and Ellie wanted to scream, just to break the silence.

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