“Yep.”
“You will?”
“Yes,” he said curtly, warning her with a glare not to ask follow-up questions.
“I’d like that.” Her attention traced down his cheek to his lips.
Heat dove all the way through him, as hot as a comet. “Stop checking me out, Gen.”
“Hmm?” Her hazel gaze jerked guiltily to his eyes.
“You can’t fancy me, remember?”
“No, no. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Sam’s truck was no luxury vehicle, that was for sure. It had to be at least fifteen years old. A tree-shaped air freshener that readRoyal Pinedangled from the rearview mirror and emitted a scent that might be piney but didn’t strike Genevieve as royal. He kept his truck clean, just like all his other belongings, yet the vehicle gave off the impression of utility over comfort and age over beauty.
Earlier, when they’d met to embark on their trip to Clayton, she’d suggested that she drive, since she was the one on a mission to dig up her parents’ past. Also, secretly, because she had a newer car. He’d insisted they take his truck. At which time, she’d offered to drive his truck. At which time, he’d told her she was insane if she thought he was going to let her drive his truck. They’d climbed into his Dodge, and he’d given the dashboard two fast, affectionate pats before turning the key in the ignition.
A cloudy afternoon sky watched over them as they zipped along the ribbon of highway past meadows, occasional roadside shops, and orchards. As it turned out, the passenger seat was the best seat in the house because it allowed her to study him as he drove.
His hat was gone, revealing thick, short-cut brown hair. Muscles, ligaments, and veins corded his forearms and wrists—
“I heard the other day that you’re one of the Miracle Five,” he said.
Regret burst the bubble of her musings.
She supposed she should feel grateful that it had taken him this long to learn of her status as a Miracle Fiver ... but she couldn’t quite manage gratitude. Sam hadn’t viewed her as an oddity, at least any more so than her very odd actions had demanded. Now he likely would.
He sliced a brief look at her. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I suppose because I liked being just Genevieve with you.”
“You’re still just Genevieve with me. Why didn’t you tell me that you were one of the Miracle Five?”
“When? In between my bouts of fever and vomiting?”
“Anytime would have been fine.”
“I worried I wouldn’t seem very miraculous to you while recovering from prescription drug withdrawal.”
He didn’t respond for several beats. “I was under the impression that God was the only miraculous one involved in the Miracle Five rescue,” he finally said.
She flourished a hand in his direction. “Yes! Exactly. If you start expecting me to be miraculous, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“I don’t plan to set myself up for disappointment.”
“Good!” She consulted her phone’s GPS. “Take the next exit and turn left.”
“I have questions.”
“About the directions?”
“About the Miracle Five.”
“I...” She straightened her posture. “I don’t tend to answer questions about the earthquake.”
“Why not?”
