A flicker of nerves crosses her face, but she nods. “I do.”
Her trust feels enormous and I wonder again what has happened to me. A few months ago all I wanted was for a woman to give me her phone number. Now I want her trust, her smile… her heart.
“Will you wear this?” I hold a blindfold out to her. “Only until we get there.”
She studies it, breath steadying. I keep my voice calm. “I’d never put you in situations that are unsafe or uncomfortable. Ever.”
Another nod. “Alright.”
I slip it over her eyes and guide her round the corner to the pickup.
“This doesn’t feel like your Range Rover,” she laughs nervously, hand gripping mine firmly.
“It isn’t,” I say as I help her settle. “Don’t worry, I haven’t taken up kidnapping.”
“You’d make a terrible kidnapper,” she says, trying for dry wit and nearly managing it. “You keep holding my hand.”
“Occupational hazard.”
She huffs a tiny laugh.
Once the engine starts, she stiffens. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze, and gradually she relaxes, though occasionally she takes a deeper breath.
A few minutes into the drive, she says, “Can I ask a question?”
“You can ask anything.”
She pauses. “Are we… leaving the county?”
“No.”
“Are we crossing any major roads?”
“Define major.”
She turns her head sharply toward the sound of my voice. “Alex.”
I smile. “Fine. No A-roads. No motorways. No detours to Yorkshire.”
She hesitates. “Are there animals where we’re going?”
“Yes.”
She tenses. “What kind of animals?”
“Friendly ones.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is. Just not a helpful one.”
She lets out a frustrated sound that is so endearing I nearly pull the truck over just to kiss her for it.
After a moment, she tries again. “Are we going somewhere… outdoorsy?”
I glance at the sky ahead and smile. “Extremely.”
Her free hand curls into her lap. “And will I be expected to interact with nature?”
