“Yep.”
“Okay.”
I sucked in a deep breath, stuck out the tip of my finger, and rubbed it down the lizard’s back. “Oh, that feels different than I thought. Papery but hard, if that makes sense. Do you do this?” I asked, running my hand up toward the chuckwalla’s head.
“Do what?”
“Just grab random wildlife and pet it?”
“Most wildlife wouldn’t let me catch it. But on occasion.” He watched me run my finger down the lizard’s tail. “Proud of you,” he said, making my heart flutter. “Now I’ll go set him back in the desert. Wanna meet me on the patio for dinner?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, watching him turn and head back toward my room.
“Hey, Lula.”
“Yeah?”
He half-turned back, eyes hooded.
“Bathing suit looks great.”
It was a throwaway compliment, but I felt a warm feeling move across my chest as I finally turned off the water and climbed out, saving the water for a cool bath later.
By the time I slipped on a pair of shorts and made it to the patio, Raff already had the food and drinks spread out.
I paused as a breeze passed by, the air perfumed with the intoxicating mix of cedar and sagebrush.
“They could bottle and sell that scent,” I told Raff when he looked over.
“Lizard aside, you seem to be enjoying the accommodations.”
“It’s beautiful. I’ve never stayed somewhere like this.”
“No short-term rentals?”
“They creep me out,” I admitted. “I’ve heard so many horror stories about the owners watching you on the cameras or people showing up. And I’ve only ever traveled alone. So, no thanks. I’ll take a hotel any day over that.”
“That makes sense. I usually stick to hotels and motels just for the convenience. I’m a big fan of being able to get food from my room. Or from a nearby vending machine. This is the kind of place you don’t want to be in alone. Would be too boring.”
“You don’t want to bathe naked under the stars, looking out at the desert alone?”
“That I could maybe handle. But who wants to swing alone?” he asked, gesturing with his fork.
Turning, I saw a set of wooden slat swings with the endless desert behind them.
“What are we, eight?”
“Well, now that settles it. We have to swing. Come on. There’s no getting out of this.” He grabbed my hand as he passed, tugging me toward the swings. “You gotta let that inner child out here and there,” he told me as he dropped onto his swing.
“I’d barely been a child when I was a child,” I admitted as I sat, rocking a little but not swinging.
“Why’s that?”
“My mom was… too young to be a mom. She was more like a big sister. And that meant that, well, someone had to be more of a mom.”
“So that’s what you did.”
“Yeah. I was the one who cleaned up and did laundry and got myself and my brother up for school in the morning. Made our lunches. Helped him with homework. Took on a lot of my mom’s emotional burden. She wasn’t a bad mom. Just an immature one who didn’t know what she was doing.”
