Page 38 of The Treasure Hunt Hookup

I barely sleep as the storm keeps howling outside the windows; I’m too amped up with adrenalin after our invisible ink discovery… and the sight of Ivy in that ridiculously fuzzy sweater set, eyes sparkling with excitement in the firelight. Never mind the skin-tight catsuit, that outfit is going to haunt my dreams, the way the loose sleeve slipped off one bare shoulder, and the soft fabric draped over her curves, soft and warm, and inviting me to just slide my hands up under it …

I wasn’t even surprised when she kicked me out. I’m coming to expect it, every time the temperature rises between us. However much the chemistry is burning up, that’s how hard she pushes me away.

Yup, fate has a devious sense of humor alright.

But I don’t mind waiting. And if it takes another hundred cold showers before Ivy realizes I’m not going to trample all over her heart like that idiot ex of hers, then I guess I’ll just get real used to the bracing icy water.

THUMP.THUMP.

I wake, groggy, to a distant thundering sound.

Is the storm still raging? But there’s daylight creeping through the drapes, and when I lift my head, the skies are clear; the sun just rising over the mountains.

What the hell?

“Hey, Reeve!” The thunder sounds again, and I realize, someone’s hammering on the door. “Wake up!” A voice yells.

Ivy’s voice.

I bolt out of bed, and over to the window. I yank it open, and lean out, wondering what’s wrong.

“Finally!” Ivy calls up from the front yard below. She’s dressed in jeans and an oversized plaid jacket, her damp hair in two braids and those sexy librarian glasses perched on her nose.

“What time is it?” I yawn, confused. I finally got to sleep around 2 a.m … after driving myself just about crazy with hot fevered fantasies of Ivy and that damn sweater set.

“6:45,” she says brightly.

I cough. “In themorning?!”

Ivy rolls her eyes. “We need to get an early start if we’re going to get to Charlotte before rush-hour.”

My brain finally wakes up.

Charlotte … the hidden address written in invisible ink …

“Does that mean we’re going after the gold?” I exclaim.

“I’mgoing to go check out theminordetail from the letter.” Ivy corrects me. “And I’m leaving in ten minutes,” she adds, turning on her heel and stalking away. “So if you want to come with, you better get a move on!”

Damn.

I dive into the shower, pile into some clothes, grab my wallet, and manage to race down the hill as Ivy’s car comes reversing out of her driveway. She wasn’t fucking around. I pile into the passenger seat just in time, panting but victorious. “Made it!”

“Give the man a gold star,” Ivy replies, deadpan, but I can see the smirk on her lips as she turns onto the highway.

I buckle up and get settled as we hit the road. The fall foliage still and hushed in the early-morning mists. “We should stop in town for coffee first,” I suggest, yawning again.

Ivy thrusts a Thermos flask at me.

“How about food?” I add hopefully. “I could murder a breakfast burrito. And what’s a road trip without some good snacks?”

Ivy sighs. “We’re going to need some ground rules,” she says, glancing over from behind the wheel. “First of all, I’m taking the lead.”

I grin. “Clearly.”

“Which means, number two, you need to be respectful of the history here. This is real life and real people we’re talking about, not some plot point in one of your movies,” she adds with a warning tone.

“Noted. Real life, not a movie. Anything else?” I ask, watching her drive the same way she does everything else: with effortless focus and careful attention to detail.

---