Page 85 of Wildfire
Shortly after the kids are ushered to bed, Russ appears looking concerned, which immediately puts me on edge. I’m in comfortable clothes, like he told me to be when he left earlier, but having zero idea what’s going on is not my idea of fun. “We have a slight problem,” he says as he approaches me, stopping far enough away so we don’t look overfriendly.
“What is it?”
“We need to sign out at reception, and it’ll look suspicious if we’re both signed out together.”
“We’ve done it before,” I say.
“Not at night. You gotta admit that looks suspicious.”
He’s right, as much as I don’t want to admit it. I don’t even know what he has planned, but I’m nervous and excited and I don’t want him to say we can’t go. “There’s a path that starts near the back of the kitchen that leads to a dirt track a few minutes’ drive away. I could sneak out, but you have to promise to not snitch on me, because unlike you who’s breaking the rules left and right, I’m trying to repair my image.”
He rolls his eyes and his dimples appear as he fights a smile. “Is it safe?”
“Yeah, it’s an evacuation route that they put in decades ago. I’ll need a flashlight.”
He throws his truck keys at me. “I don’t want you walking in the dark. Don’t check the back or you’ll ruin the surprise.”
The excitement and nerves eat away at me as I keep a straight face signing out at the front office. When I’m safely in Russ’s truck, that’s when I give up fighting it. I keep the headlights on as I wait the five minutes it takes for him to find me, and as he jogs up to the fence line, I try not to drool when he jumps over it with ease.
Is everything he does hot, or am I just easily impressed? One of life’s great questions.
Opening the driver’s door, he slides me along the seat and positions himself in front of the wheel. “I don’t even want to know how you know that barely there path leads to here, trouble.”
“Am I trouble or am I an explorer?”
He throws an arm over the back of the seat as he looks over his shoulder to drive in reverse up the dirt track back to the road. Again, hot or easily impressed? His hand twirls the ends of my hair and the definitive answer is hot. Definitely, definitely hot.
“Trouble. One hundred percent.”
There’s no one else on the roads this late at night, but Russ concentrates as he drives, one hand resting on my thigh, tapping to the song on the radio. The next song is by an up-and-coming rock band Poppy likes, which is starting to get radio play. I bought Poppy and Emilia tickets to their LA show in a few months, but before I can tell Russ, he changes the station. “You don’t like Take Back December?”
“Not really.” He lifts his hand from my thigh to rub along his jawline. “It’s my brother’s band.”
Oh my God. “Your brother Ethan is Ethan Callaghan? How did I not notice that before? Emilia’s girlfriend loves TBD.”
“Yup.” He doesn’t sound very pleased about that fact, and after what I’ve learned about his relationship with his family, I’m not surprised.
He takes a right down an old dirt road, looking at me for a split second before putting his hand back on my thigh. “Your brother is famous, but you don’t want to go pro because you don’t want to be famous? As someone with a family always in the press, I know you sometimes have no choice.”
“You’re not the only person to point that out to me recently, funnily enough. Ethan isn’t really famous, though.” He squeezes mythigh, which I think is supposed to be a comfort, but I feel it everywhere. “Should we tell everyone we’re only children?”
“Definitely, but I’m a bit concerned it won’t matter anyway, since you appear to be taking me somewhere to murder me and bury my body in a field…” The truck throws us around a little as we drive over the uneven ground in the direction of an old, derelict building. “Where the hell are we? I am not fucking you in that haunted house if that’s your plan.”
He snorts as he puts the truck into park. “I thought you knew every inch of Honey Acres, Ms. Explorer,” he teases, taking the keys out of the ignition.
“I do. This is not Honey Acres. We are almost definitely trespassing.”
We both climb out and I walk around to his side, still totally confused about what we’re doing here. As soon as I’m close enough, he bends to kiss me, reviving the butterflies that are now a permanent addition to my body. “I thought trespassing would be exciting for you.”
“Trespassing in a hotel to make yourself a midnight snack, yes. Trespassing in a field is how you end up with a gunshot wound.”
“We’re on Orla’s land, I promise. I found this place on a run and I checked when I got back to camp. We’re not that far away, it just takes longer to get here by vehicle, since I can’t drive through fences.” He laughs and takes my hand, walking us to the back of his truck. “I just realized people don’t kiss at the start of a first date.”
“You can drive through fences… but people yell at you when you go to apologize and they make your parents pay for the damage.” His eyebrow rightfully rises. “Anyway… I haven’t been on a first date before, so I don’t know the rules. Which is probably a red flag for you, because why would I be undated at twenty unless it’s because I’m really annoying, which I am, and, well, we might get charged at by cows tonight or eaten by wolves or something, so I’drather kiss at the start than not kiss at all. I need to stop talking. I’m doing that thing that you make me do where I j—”
He stops at the back of the truck, nudging my chin up with his knuckle to close my mouth. “I know you’re the English major, but undated isn’t a word, sweetheart.”
“I feel like it is.” He ignores me and opens the tailgate, pulling off a white sheet, revealing cushions and quilts, an ice chest, and the battery-powered projector we sometimes use for outdoor movie night. “Oh my goodness.”
