“Good,” I reply roughly as heated silence stretches between us.
“Sutton…” she murmurs, her gaze dropping to my mouth just as mine locks on hers.
Leaning in, I brush my lips to hers as I run my hands up her back and wrap her tight against me. I tilt my head to deepen the kiss but before I can do that, a ruckus erupts outside the bunker.
“Come back here you stupid donkey. You’re not supposed toeatit!” Wyatt yells before there’s a crash.
The groan of creaky hinges that follows has my heart sinking. The resounding bang of the bunker door as it crashes closed makes me groan–and not in a good way–against Blair’s mouth.
We pull apart and stare at each other. “Was that what I think it was?” she asks.
I nod with a resigned sigh. “Unfortunately so. I think it’s karma–Grumps style,” I mutter to myself, knowing that somehow–someway–thishasto be the mountain’s doing.
“We can still get out of here though, right?” I don’t miss that little bit of panic lacing her voice now.
Rubbing her back, I step back and reach for her hand. “I sure hope so,” I grimace.
“And if not?”
I look around the bunker. “If not, I’ll get as close as I can to the door and hopefully call Wy back to let us out. Worst case, I’ll give you a tour of the bunker menu in case of an emergency.”
“Well, since we’re not in any rush,” she says coyly. “How ‘bout we enjoy the bunker cuisine anyway. I’m sure you’ve got some good stories about when you all were here as kids. I’d love to hear them.”
I stare at her in wonder. “You want tostay?
She shrugs. “Why not? We’re here and we’re notgoinganywhere.”
“You’re not at all what I expected.”
“Neither are you,” she says, plucking at my shirt. “For one, you’re not wearing plaid.”
My brow jumps up. “Does that ruin the mountain man fantasy?”
“Not at all.”
“Good,” I say, puffing out my chest and earning a giggle. It’s that sound that quells any fear that being locked in here might bring.
Then again, just being with Blair does that anyway. Evenifwe’re temporarily trapped underground by a jackass of a donkey.
Chapter 13
Blair
Monday comes by far too soon after a nice weekend at the ranch which included a meeting to go over the last-minute wedding details and what needs to be done and when.
For that, I was all in. I want to give back to the family for being so welcoming since I’ve arrived, not just because I’m now dating Sutton.
After lunch, I leave the hospital and set off for the other side of the mountain where the secluded Wilson Ranch is located.
After Uncle George’s call last week, I sought out Sully Wilson’s file and made sure I was familiar with it before calling the man himself and experiencing his surly, gruff, andtotallypleasant personality first-hand. He was polite though, I’ll give him that, but I could tell by the sound of his labored breathing that he wasn’t doing well. It’s why I insisted on visiting him today, before emailing his daughter and updating her.
Ten minutes’ drive past the town limits, I follow my GPS instructions to turn right to go up the slope. Halfway up, I see the sign Marion Wilson told me to look out for.
‘No Trespassing and No Coopers.’
“I see what Uncle George meant now,” I mutter to myself as I pull up to an out-of-place modern intercom box stuck to adecrepit wooden post that looks like it’s been here as long as the mountain has.
“Hello?” I say loudly, pressing the call button.
