A little further digging in the backpack revealed a couple of mini wine cooler bottles. Wade shook his head at Grams. Maybe she had ulterior motives after all. Least she could have done was pack him a beer. “Want some fruity drink?” He lightly tossed a bottle to Trish. “It’s a twist-off.”
“Thanks.”
Wade tried to ignore Trish bundled in a blanket, but it was cute. With just her head and hands poking out of the dark blue fleece, he busied himself gathering firewood after discovering the lighter in the backpack.Grams thought of everything.
“Where are your parents?” Trish asked, her voice quieter now than it had been. She must have known it was a delicate question.
He could shut her down again, change the subject. Instead, with a deep breath, he lit the fire he’d built. “Up there.” He pointed toward the stars. “They passed away when I was really young.” Wade couldn’t bring himself to tell her the details.
“I’m so sorry, Wade. I’m sure they were wonderful people.”
“The best.” It touched him how Trish automatically assumed the best of his parents when she hadn’t even claimed any of her own. He wanted to ask more about that, but it seemed too personal a topic. With the fire roaring, Wade eased onto the much too small blanket. Shadow had laid her claim to a bottom corner, forcing him to sit even closer to Trish.
They sat in silence a while, both gazing at the stars. Galaxies floated overhead. Wade stated, “Willing to bet you don’t see stars like this in Omaha.”
“This is a great spot,” she finally said after a sip of her drink.
“We used to camp out here when I was younger. Me and my cousins.” He smiled at the memories of them pitching a tent, then leaving it empty all night to sleep out under the stars. “Little tip—that stream doesnothave the best fish . . . but we caught some anyway. Allen was the survivalist, determined we wouldn’t go begging for scraps at the house.”
“Especially not fancy-smancy s’mores, I bet.” Trish tipped the little bottle up, emptying it. He offered her the second one, and she accepted. He wouldn’t drink it anyway.
Wade nudged her. “Hey now, I tried them your way. I admitted I was wrong.”
“You ever been anywhere outside of Wyoming?” Trish asked. “College doesn’t count since that was in the same state.”
“Of course.” Wade tried to adjust himself on the blanket, but everything he tried had him leaning against Trish. After three attempts, he gave in.Itdidn’tmeananything, he reminded himself. It was all for writing inspiration and he had to make sure the predators didn’t take too much interest in her. “California one summer to visit cousins. Cancun for a wedding. Alaska with Allen on a fishing trip.”
“Wow, youdoget out!” She was definitely flirting with him now. It had to be the wine cooler, allowing her to let her guard down. “Yet, you chose to stay here?” It didn’t sound like an insult, just a casual question.
“Look around,” Wade said, trying to keep his eyes off her. The scent of her shampoo—something flowery like lilac—drifted to him on the night’s breeze. Trish shivered, and he had to fight the urge to put his arm around her. “This land is special. I could never leave it behind, not for the winning lottery ticket.”
“You’re lucky, you know that?” Trish leaned her head on his shoulder, as if it were the most casual thing in the word. Wade found he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
“Why’s that?”
“You’ve always known where your home is. You’ve always known where you belong.” She shivered again, and this time Wade couldn’t help himself. His arm eased around her back and pulled her a little closer. She snuggled in against him. Firelight reflected in those soft eyes. Her lips were close enough to kiss.
“You don’t feel like you belong in Omaha?” Could she feel the crazy thumping of his heart? Surely it was hammering against her cheek.
“I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere I lived. But being out here . . . It’s probably that it’s a romance writers’ retreat, the whole fantasy element and all that. But it feels the closest to home I’ve ever been. I can’t explain it.”
“You could see yourself living on a ranch?” He shouldn’t go there. It was better not to let such fantasies take flight. But he found himself waiting breathlessly for her answer, his eyes drawn to those soft lips. What would happen if he kissed her?
“Are you kidding? All the books I could write out here, especially by that fireplace. You’d never get me to leave!” The small wine cooler in her hand reminded him a kiss was a bad idea. She wasn’t drunk or slurring her words, but she was certainly more animated and open than she’d been with him. Surely the drink had helped her drop her guard. And she hadn’t mentioned that Hank fellow once.
He could see the allure of falling. It probably felt a little like flying. Maybe in another time, another life, he could fall for Trish Meadows. But the downfall was too great a risk. How did you continue flying if you lost the one you loved? Too many nights Grams had sobbed herself to sleep. Too many times he’d caught her in the living room gripping their last anniversary photo, tears silently sliding down her cheeks. She’d lost too much weight, unable to eat for weeks.
If Trish loved it out here so much, why would she ever choose a city? “Why Omaha?”
“Mindy.” She tipped the tiny bottle up again, and he couldn’t seem to stop staring at her lips.Did they taste like the cherry wine cooler?“She was my neighbor when I was fifteen, when I lived with a family in Nebraska. It was the first time in my life that I ever made a real friend.”
Shadow perked up at a twig snapping in the distance, but Trish didn’t seem to notice as she continued. “It was the best year, but then I moved. We vowed to meet back up at college. Be roommates and all that. I would have gone to any school to have her back in my life. She’s like a sister. The only one I’ve ever had.”
Wade’s heart ached at the sadness laced in her words. At the things she wasn’t telling him. He wanted desperately to know everything there was to know about Trish, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He couldn’t let things go there. “Did she major in business, too?”
He felt Trish shake her head against his shoulder. “She’s a computer geek to the core. For me, business felt safe. I was always good with numbers.”
“You’re good with words, too.” When she pulled back and stared at him, he swallowed. Firelight illuminated her eyes, making his stomach flutter in an odd way. “I mean, I’m guessing you are. I haven’t read any—”
