Page 51 of Pretend and Propose

I bite back a chuckle. “How exactly were you planning to get there?”

She lifts her chin. “I was going to drive until I ran out of road and start hiking.”

I allow myself one second to think about Daisy, lost and alone in the woods. Another second to be grateful I caught her on her way out, then I pull myself together. “We should figure out on a map where the coordinates put us and work back from there. It’s best to follow maintained park trails as far as possible, so we don’t have to bushwhack our way in.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

She seems unsure and nervous. I don’t want to pick a fight, but… “Are you sure you want to do this? You shouldn’t have to compromise your morals for this job. If Fernwood doesn’t appreciate you, maybe Tenth Avenue Books isn’t the right place for you.”

She sighs. “I’m not like you, Noah. I can’t just work anywhere in the world. New York City is the place to be for publishing and Tenth Avenue Books is the best. If getting there means doing something I’m less than proud of, that’s what I’m going to do. It’s not like I’m murdering someone.”

Maybe not, but this isn’t Daisy. I also know, from the set of her jaw, there’s no point in arguing. “I’ll get changed and we’ll map those coordinates.”

Chapter Fifteen

Daisy

The sky darkens as we hike into the woods and there’s a scent of rain on the wind. I’m more grateful than ever that Noah insisted on coming with me. I’d be lost and freaking out without him. Or, at the very least, stuck off-trail in brush too thick to get through, since the sharpest thing I brought with me is my editing pencil.

“I don’t have a phone signal out here.” Noah glances back over his shoulder as he hikes ahead of me on the narrow trail. “But the last weather report I saw said it’s not supposed to rain until after the sun goes down.”

In the distance, the sound of rolling thunder contradicts his words. We’ve been out here for an hour and we’re still on National Park trails, going deeper and deeper into the forest. I’m tired and itchy just at the sight and sound of all the bugs.

“Maybe the rain will keep the ticks away at least.”

Noah chuckles. “I’ll do a thorough tick check on you as soon as we’re out of the woods.”

For the five millionth time since we stepped foot into the woods, I smooth my hand over my head, feeling for telltale lumps, then run my fingers through my ponytail. No ticks there.

“They don’t just jump off trees onto your head,” Noah says. “That’s a myth. You’d have to be in tall grass or brush for them to climb you.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

Ticks were a part of life when I was a kid, and we typically just flicked them off or used tweezers to pull them gently free if they’d already dug in. It was no big deal. Gross, but not the end of the world.

As an adult, I’ve seen and heard way too many stories of people who got really sick from tick-borne disease and I have no interest in becoming a statistic.

“Help!” someone screams, the sound high pitched and frantic.

Noah and I freeze on the trail, silent as we listen. Noah’s in full emergency situation mode, preternaturally calm and still. I’ve only seen him like this once before, when we came across a woman who’d just been mugged on one of his visits to the city.

“Help! Please! Is anyone out there?”

Noah turns and steps off the trail, heading toward the shouts.

I grab his arm. “What if Bigfoot or a bear have him cornered? We need a plan.”

Noah looks back, barely focusing on me as his brain runs through the calculations. “You stay here. I’ll check it out.”

I grip his shoulders to get his attention. “We’re going together. Let’s just go slow until we know what we’re walking into.”

“No. You stay here until we know it’s safe.”

Ugh, this man. “If you want me to stay here, you’re going to have to tie me to a tree.”

His glare is impressive, but I don’t back down. “Fine, but stay behind me.”

“Isn’t it better if we spread out?”

---