“A lizard,” Ace repeated, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “A small one. He appears to have mistaken your back for a comfortable rock.”
“Get it off me,” Willa said, suppressing the urge to start Kung Fu chopping the air as she freaked out like someone caught in a spider web. Instead, she kept her voice down with an effort that required everything she had. “Ace, I am asking you very calmly and very sincerely to get it off me right now.”
“I’m going to,” Ace promised. “Just don’t move quickly or it will run in the wrong direction, and by that I mean over your shoulder, then down the front of you.”
“Ace… for the love of…” Willa hissed through her teeth. “What is taking you so long?”
“I’m trying to urge it to turn so it runs down your back if I can’t flick it off,” Ace explained.
Willa stopped breathing entirely. She felt Ace move closer. Then his hand moved to cup her one shoulder. The contact sent something entirely separate from lizard-related panic through her nervous system that she was absolutely not going to examine right now.
“I’ve got him,” Ace said, very quietly, and she could tell he was directly behind her now. “I’m going to pull you back slightly and rotate you to the left. Ready?”
She nodded as Ace’s arm came around her from behind, his free hand moving to her other shoulder, and he drew her gently backward, then turned her in one smooth movement. She felt the absence of weight between her shoulder blades and heard the small, dry sound of something being deposited on the rock near the entrance. Ace’s arm was still around her shoulders, while Willa was standing with her back against his chest, and the lizard was gone.
“Done,” Ace said.
“That,” Willa said, with a shudder that started at the base of her spine and worked its way thoroughly upward, “was on my back.”
She pointed to the lizard. It was huge.
“It was,” Ace confirmed.
She could hear that he was trying not to laugh, which under the circumstances she found only partially forgivable.
“It was sitting on me while I was talking to my mother.” Willa shuddered again.
“It was,” Ace said with a nod. “Only I thought it best not to attempt to get it off you while you were on the phone to your mother.”
“That was wise.” Willa turned to face him.
He was close, closer than she’d registered while he was behind her, and his arm was still loosely around her shoulders because neither of them had moved it. His expression was doing the thing it did when he was genuinely amused but was making a reasonable effort not to show the full extent of it. “Don’t laugh,” Willa warned him. “You know how I feel about those unevolved snakes with the squishy wiggly bodies, swishing tails, and creepy little legs.”
“I’m not laughing,” Ace said, very seriously, in the voice of a man who was absolutely laughing internally.
“You are laughing on the inside, and I can see it,” Willa accused.
“I would never laugh at your entirely reasonable response to a small and completely harmless lizard,” Ace said innocently.
“It was on my back, Ace.” Willa pointed to her back. “Just sitting there absorbing my body warmth because it’s cold-blooded.”
“I know.” Ace nodded patiently, but his eyes still flashed with amusement. “Now that the lizard panic is over…” This time, he smiled. “We need to start getting the camp packed up as we’re being rescued soon.”
“I’m going to need therapy,” Willa stated. “And not from what happened with that…” She turned to look, and the lizard was gone. “Where did it go?”
“Probably ran out and braved the storm as you were rather mean to it,” Ace told her, his chest jiggling as the laughter came.
They moved to the front of the cave where Ace peeked outside. “It’s still quite bad out there.” He shook his head. “I hope Dean can fly in this.”
Willa stared at Ace for a moment. Her heart squeezed as she did. He truly was a remarkable man who had been there for her and the kids. Ace was actually always willing to help anyone and lend a hand. He was truly one of a kind. On impulse, Willa reached across and took his hand.
It wasn’t supposed to be a romantic gesture. She held it the way you hold someone’s hand when they have said a true thing, and you want them to know you’ve heard it.
“Thank you,” Willa said. “For being here. For the past ten years. For all of it.” His eyes met hers. “For my kids. For me.” She swallowed. “For going into the water yesterday.”
“Willa,” Ace stopped her. His hands were slightly squeezing hers.
“I mean it,” Willa persisted. “All of it. I need you to know I mean it.”
