He didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes heated her blood, and goosebumps spread across her skin. The air was thick and muggy, yet she shivered and sank back into the seat. Faith undid the knot on top of her head and shook out her hair, then rotated her neck to ease the tension that simmered beneath her skin. Her muscles were tight. She was on edge, and yet . . .
Her blood thrummed with anticipation.
“Long day?” Gus turned onto a road that was barely visible from the main one. It was nothing more than a dirt path that wove itself between a stand of pine and fir. The sun had begun its descent, and bright orange and red light glowed above the treetops.
She nodded. “Yes, but I’m off until Sunday. Where are we?”
He glanced her way, but she kept her eyes trained ahead. “Someplace special. Trust me.”
Gus drove for a few more minutes, and eventually, the trees began to thin. Faith leaned forward and spied water shimmering through their shadows. He pulled up into a clearing and cut the engine. She spied a small baby-blue cottage that was missing windows and a porch, as well as a dock that jutted out onto the water. Beyond that, the entire lake glistened beneath the waning light, the surface smooth like glass.
“Come on,” Gus said.
She slid from the truck and waited for him to retrieve a basket from the back and then followed him out to the dock.
“You must be hungry,” Gus said.
For you.
She cleared her throat and nodded, feeling a pang ofsomethingin her stomach. She was pretty sure it had nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with her nerves. They were stretched thin, like a rubber band about to snap.
Faith took off her sneakers and grabbed a blanket from Gus. She spread it out and got comfortable while Gus unpacked the basket. He offered Faith a cold beer, and she leaned back while he got busy with the food. Chicken wings. Fries. Deep fried mushrooms, and, she smiled, wonton nachos.
“I love these,” she murmured, reaching for a plate and loading it up with the nachos.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I’ve seen you order them at The Dock.”
A slow, lazy smile played across his face as he filled up his plate and settled back. “So,” she said, turning her head to the side. “Where are we exactly? I know this is Fire Lake, but I’ve never been down this far.”
He pointed to the left at a structure on top of the treeline. It was hard to make out in the gathering dusk, but it looked to be at least fifty feet in the air. “That’s an old fire tower at the edgeof the Boone estate. They don’t use them anymore since it’s a lot easier to look for fire from the air.”
“Do they have a lot of forest fires around here?”
“When the conditions are right. Drought. Wind. That sort of thing.”
“Human negligence?”
“That too.”
“Are we trespassing?” She sat a little straighter and glanced around. They were secluded, and though she spied lights twinkling around the lake, she couldn’t see anything else.
“The Boone house is down that way around the bend so you can’t see it from here.” He took a pull from his beer. “We’re good. I don’t think the old man will mind anyway.”
“Is this one of the cottages you’re working on?”
He nodded.
“What’s he like?”
Gus turned to her, and damned if her stomach didn’t turn over.
“Porter?” He shrugged. “Not what I expected.”
“I’ve heard he’s sick.”
