Page 134 of Imogen

He chuckles. “It’s not,” he promises. “Come on, we can walk back down.”

“And ruin our relationship before we reach the top? You heard what Sabrina said. People who leave a personal item have a relationship that will last. So, I will die on this hill, Ben. I will. Us Smiths, we don’t give up. We never give up.”

“Then take a bloody break before I have to carry you back down and need to call an ambulance,” he demands softly.

“No…” I start, but then I see a bench up ahead. “Maybe just for five minutes.”

“Why are you so freaked out about the woods?” he muses, unable to keep his amusement in check.

The first half of the mountain—which we are still on—has a trail winding up into the side of the mountain and the trees still manage to grow straight, giving the effect that the ground is still flat.

“They creep me out. And hay mazes,” I reply.

“Is that why you didn’t go to the Halloween scare fest?”

I nod. “If you tell the others, I will deny it,” I warn him as I drop down in the seat.

He hands me a bottle of water and I gulp half of it down before sitting back.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

I lean into him when he puts his arm around me. “Did you mean what you said about telling Dad?”

“Yeah. I don’t want anymore secrets. I won’t be able to go back home and pretend I’m not crazy about you. I don’t trust myself not to slip up and kiss you in front of everyone. And I don’t want your dad to find out that way.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured into it,” I admit.

“I’m not. I put the pressure on myself. No one else did. But I think once he sees this is serious, he’ll be okay.”

He doesn’t sound so sure about it being okay. “Serious, huh?”

He grins and captures me around the waist to press a kiss to my neck, then jaw, before capturing my lips. His fingers brush through my hair, tilting my head back. “Does that feel serious enough?”

I tilt my head a little bit more. “You should try again,” I order, and my flesh breaks out in goose bumps when he does.

“If I didn’t know there are a few other people on the hill, I’d be inside of you right now.”

I splutter out a laugh and push him back. “No, you wouldn’t.”

His pupils dilate. “Oh, I would.”

My phone begins to ring, and my eyes widen in surprise. “Shit, I’ve got signal,” I muse.

“You won’t soon so I’d answer it,” he warns.

I pull it out of my pocket, and my lips part at the name on the screen. “It’s Castle and Games.”

“Answer it,” he orders, pushing the phone closer.

Pulling out of my shock, I swipe the screen and bring the phone up to my ear. “Hello?”

“Miss Smith, it’s Larry Carpenter at Castle and Games.”

“Hi, Mr Carpenter,” I greet.

“We would like to call you in for a meeting.”

“A meeting? If this is about the game that was stolen, I’m not allowed to discuss it with anyone due to it being an ongoing case.”

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