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“It’ll pass over in a little bit. Let’s wait it out. We can eat those sandwiches.”
My stomach instantly cheered at the idea, even as a cold shiver vibrated through me. He noticed the tremor and nodded to me, his brow pinching. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.” He reached for the keys and started the ignition, turning the dial to start the heat. “This’ll help, but not if you’re sitting there in that soaked shirt.”
I was well aware of the dangers, and wasn’t ready to court disaster with a cold. I squeezed the right sleeve, testing the viability of wringing it dry, but it was a useless endeavor. I glanced at the back. “I don’t have another shirt.”
He undid the top of his coveralls, then skinned the wet cotton off, over his head. “I’d offer you this one, but it’s worse than yours.”
I weighed my options, watching as he left the top of his overalls undone, the cut of his hip visible, the edge of his black underwear showing. The cold seemed to be sinking into my bones, and I felt the annoying click of my teeth beginning to chatter. I made my decision and moved quickly, the soaked material suction-cupping itself to my skin as I peeled it off. I got the long-sleeved shirt over my head and dropped it onto the floorboard with a wet splat.
Leaving my bra on, I angled the vents toward me, almost moaning in pleasure as the warm air hit my bare skin.
“Better?” Declan’s voice was a little husky, and I glanced over to see him watching me, his own skin goosebumping along his chest muscles.
I looked away, rubbing my hands over my arms. “So much better.” I did a foot check, my toes nice and dry, thanks to my boots.
He twisted around, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the small cooler from the back. We’d stopped at a little deli in the last town before the camp, getting Pepsis and some ham and cheese hoagies. He passed me one and I unrolled it, spreading the paper across my lap and picking up the sub. A clap of lightning hit, and I jumped, the strike bright enough to light the interior of the cab.
“That felt close.” Declan peered out the front window, looking up at the sky.
I nodded and took a big bite of the sandwich, surprised by how hungry I was. Thinking back, it had been five hours since we’d eaten, and that had just been a banana and one of Ansley’s blueberry muffins, the snack passed through the window right before we’d pulled away from her house. He seemed similarly famished, and we fell into a companionable silence, save the crack of a soda and the steady cadence of rain.
I turned the heat down, my body temperature back to normal, and relaxed against the seat, slowly chewing a bite of the sandwich. They’d put pickles on it, which I normally wasn’t a fan of, but honestly—it wasn’t bad.
“So… No Nate?” I opened the sub and picked through its ingredients, pulling the remaining pickles off and depositing them on the white wrap. “What happened?”
“He didn’t exactly say.” He wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “But chances are, it’s something to do with our client.”
“A romantic something?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“So, he’s single?”
He nodded, finishing a sip of his soda before speaking. “Obsessively so.”
I took a sip of soda and watched the water streaming down the windshield. I hated to admit it, but I was almost glad they weren’t coming. While their presence would have helped my stronghold of virtue, it was nice to be alone with Declan. It had been fun to watch him shoot and hear his stories. His dad had taught him everything he knew about guns, and hunting and—after Declan’s mom died—about life. He sounded like a really great man, even if his love was hidden behind what sounded to be five layers of prickly exterior. Declan had shown me the proper safety techniques to handling a gun, though I had drawn the line at actually firing it.
It was kinda sexy, I had to admit, watching him out in the woods, his shirt sleeves pushed up, hitting each target with unwavering precision. And I’d be lying if I said my mind hadn’t been skittering all over the place with thoughts of what we were going to spend this alone time doing.
I nodded to the rain. “How long do you think this will last?”
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, tops.”
Two hours later, I rested my head in his lap and stared up at the truck’s ceiling. The rain was unrelenting, the beat of it against the roof unwavering and constant.
“And her current boyfriend, according to Nate’s sister’s snooping—which, by the way, rivals yours—is a shrink. Which”—he tilted his head to one side with a rueful grin—“Isn’t such a bad thing. Maybe he’ll understand her more than I ever did.”
