“We could always stay here,” Dan said. “I don’t see any mice.”
Her face dropped, and he burst out laughing.
“That isn’t funny,” she admonished. “Especially when I’ve been promised a shower and food.”
She could see from his grin that he didn’t agree, but hewisely chose not to argue with her. “Help me bring in the boat, and I’ll see about both.”
After pulling in the inflatable and securing a new knot on the door with one of the pieces of cut rope, Dan located the walking path that he said should take them into the main village of Scarinish.
The island wasn’t that big—probably three miles wide by twelve miles long—but she hoped the village wasn’t too far away. She was getting hungrier by the minute, but the last thing she was going to do was complain.
Annie felt that same ridiculous need to prove herself that she’d always felt with her father. With her father, she suspected it was because she somehow didn’t want to make him regret not having a boy. But with Dan, it was something else. Maybe she suspected he appreciated toughness?
Why she wanted to impress him, she didn’t know. But she would faint from hunger before complaining.
They’d probably walked about two miles before he said, “Almost there.” He paused long enough for her to be relieved. “Just another five miles to go.”
Five miles? Oh God. She didn’t say it, but her expression must have given her misery away.
He burst out laughing again. “Just kidding. It’s right over there.”
She didn’t look where he was pointing but turned on him with a scowl. She had never socked someone in the stomach in her life, but she was dearly tempted. “Boy, you are a barrel of laughs today.”
He was still grinning, and if she wasn’t struck by how good-looking he was when he smiled, she would have been furious.
“I’m sorry, but if you could have seen your face you would understand.” He started walking again, and she fell in beside him. “It’s okay to admit you’re exhausted.”
“I’m not—” She started to deny it, and then muttered, “Why bother?” under her breath. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a cruel streak?”
“All the time.” He sounded proud of it. “It’s how you separate the men from the boys.” He gave her a smirk. “Or girls.”
“What? Let someone think they are close to an oasis, and then tell them it’s only a mirage?”
“Pretty much.”
“Fun games you guys like to play.”
“Maybe so, but you can take it.”
Why that made her so ridiculously proud she didn’t want to know.
As the small village came into view, he told her his plan. They’d find a store, pick up a few things, and then use the public toilet—just about every village or town of this size had one—to clean up a little before finding a hotel.
It wasn’t until he told her what else he wanted her to do that she nearly forgot her intention not to complain. “You want me to cut my hair?”
He gave her one of those clueless guy looks—the kind they get when they’ve said something that got a reaction but they aren’t sure why.
He nodded. “The shorter, the better.” His brows drew together as he studied her. “Have you ever thought about coloring it? Maybe lightening it a little?”
Slow down, Paul Mitchell. He didn’t exactly strike her as the hairstylist type. “You want to give me highlights?”
He frowned. “What are those?”
She shook her head. “Forget it. No, I’ve never thought of coloring it. It’s too dark—it would look silly. Unless you want me to go red?”
She’d been joking, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Na, that would stick out too much. Oh well, we’ll just have to work with the haircut. Maybe you could try curlers.”
