“Whatever it is that Luke’s got, according to the Boss. No one knows how he does what he does. It’s a little scary, to tell you the truth.” Deke glanced at his mechanical watch and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m hungry. How about you?”
“Can’t wait,” she said. “I’m starving.”
Deke contemplated the MREs stacked on the racks. “Chef’s choice tonight is chicken and noodles or tuna and noodles.”
“Are we out of the cheese tortellini?”
“No, but I’ve decided to ration it because you’ve been eating it for breakfast as well as dinner.”
“I can’t help it if I happen to like cheese tortellini.”
“You need more protein.”
“I’ll take the tuna and noodles. Don’t forget the extra veggies. MREs are not known for their fiber content.”
He selected two MRE kits and moved to the rack of canned goods. “Green beans or asparagus?”
“Asparagus. I’m tired of green beans.”
“Aren’t we all?”
He added the asparagus to his collection and joined her at the edge of the underground river.
She watched him open the pop-top can. He moved with a masculine grace and coordination that made everything he didlook easy. But under the surface things got complicated, because he never went easy on himself.
“I would like to clarify one point,” she said. “The past five years were not entirely wasted, at least not as far as I’m concerned. The ten days we spent in that little Mediterranean village were incredible. And I loved the South Pacific cruise. I’ll never forget the week in that hotel in the Alps. We hardly left the room.”
“Fair point. We’ve had some good times. But I want the regular, routine things of life. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you every morning. Eat breakfast together. I want evenings in front of the fire. I want to hear about your weird clients.”
“That sounds lovely, but we both know you need a job.”
He opened one of the boxes of MREs. “I’ll figure it out. I want a normal life.”
“Neither of us is normal,” she said. “Actually, I don’t think anyone qualifies as normal, but that’s another conversation. I repeat, now that you’re retired, you need to find something that amounts to more than a hobby. As it happens, I’ve been thinking about that. I have an idea.”
“Yeah?” He opened the heater bag and slipped the packet of tuna and noodles inside. “What’s that?”
“It has occurred to me that my consulting business could use the services of a talent who knows how to take photographs that can pick up paranormal radiation.”
“Huh.” Deke dipped his hand into the river, scooped up a palmful of water, and dumped it into the bag. “You’re talking about me going to work for you?”
“It’s just an idea.”
He smiled. “I like it.” He folded the top of the heater bag and slid the bag back into the cardboard box. “I like it a lot.”
He propped the box against a nearby chunk of stone to let the meal heat and went to work on the second MRE.
She smiled. For the first time in the five years they had known each other she could see a future with Deke Wells. Assuming they survived.
Twenty-Nine
Sophy had not expected tosleep well, but she awoke shortly before dawn, aware that she’d had a surprisingly good night’s rest. She could get accustomed to satin sheets and luxurious comforters, she thought. But she refused to make rising before dawn a habit.
Belatedly she became aware of the weight of a warm, heavy body lying next to her. Shocked, she went very still.
True, the body was on top of the quilt, not under the covers; nevertheless, Luke had no business being this close and in such an intimate position. So much for the pillow barrier. She should be outraged, and she was. Definitely outraged. She would protest the invasion of her personal space, but maybe she could pretend to ignore it for a few more minutes.
“The shower is all yours,” Luke said.
