Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)
Page 102
Both of them knew he didn’t need coffee to keep him awake.
He already spent
most nights wide-awake.
Except for last night. Last night, he’d slept.
Not wanting to analyze the reason for that, he removed the screws from the old lock. “Who takes care of this place when you’re away?”
“When I don’t have a friend in crisis living here, Ryan watches out for it and Susan Miller tends the garden to stop it from getting out of control. Zach, you don’t have to—” She winced as the lock fell into his hand. “All right, you’ve proved your point. I need a new lock. But if you replace it with a shiny, secure version how are you going to get in next time you hear me scream?”
“I’ll push twice as hard as I did last time.” He ran his finger over the wood of the frame, trying not to think about how he’d felt when he’d heard her scream. “This whole damn door needs replacing.”
“Then I’ll arrange it. I don’t expect you to do it.” There was a pause as she added cream and sugar to his coffee. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. You didn’t have to do this.”
Yes, he did. And that was the scariest thing of all. For the first time in his life he had no idea how to stay away.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“It was early. And I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about waking up and finding me there. I know we talked about some stuff you haven’t told anyone before. I just want to assure you that I’d never share it. Not with anyone.”
He ignored that. “You should have woken me. I would have driven you home.”
“It was good to see you sleeping.” She sat down at the kitchen table in a graceful movement. “And it’s a pretty day. Perfect for a walk. I met Alec on the cliff path.”
That bothered him more than it should have. He knew from listening to Ryan’s teasing that Alec had a large female fan base. “You two have plenty in common.”
“We share some interests, that’s true.” She sipped her coffee. “He’s a good friend. Nothing more.”
“It’s none of my business.”
“No, but I thought I’d clarify before you break that new bolt you’re putting in.”
“Like I said, your love life is none of my business.” He lifted his eyes from the lock and met her steady gaze.
“After last night I would have thought it was fair to say that you at least have a stake in it. I’m not going to push you, Zach. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but if you ever feel like hooking up again, let me know.”
“Hooking up?” He tightened the screws, checked the bolt and decided it should be enough to deter a casual housebreaker as long as they didn’t know what they were doing. “Is that what we did?”
“I don’t know what we did, Flynn. Do we have to put a name to it? Generally I’m not big on labeling things unless I’ve pulled them out of the ground.” Looking tired, she pushed the mug towards him. “You should drink this before it gets cold.”
As it dawned on him that she didn’t intend to subject him to an interrogation, he slowly relaxed. Putting down his tools, he sat down opposite her. “Tell me the most exciting thing you’ve ever found.”
“On a dig?” She propped her feet on one of the empty chairs. “It’s nothing like the movies. Discovering King Tut’s tomb is the exception rather than the rule, but you don’t need to uncover a room of sparkly objects to get excited. Standing on a patch of ground, knowing that you’re literally going to uncover the past—well, that sets my pulse racing. You find something, maybe just a fragment of pottery, and straightaway you’re thinking about the people who used it and how they lived.”
He watched the light dance across her eyes. Even sitting still she exuded energy and vitality, as if she believed everything and anything were possible if approached with enough enthusiasm and determination.
“So you’re a detective.”
“In a way, yes. And I love it. Archaeology is a perfect combination of history, science and mystery. How about you? What do you love about flying?”
“There’s not much about flying I don’t love.”
But that wasn’t enough for her, of course. “Is it the technical challenge of understanding the aircraft? The buzz you get from knowing you can fly?”
“Mostly it’s the freedom.” Zach picked up the mug and drank. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Smooth, strong, and with none of the bitter aftertaste that so often marred the flavor of coffee. “When you’re in the air there are no walls or doors, just open space.” And his need for that open space, for the freedom, was something that came from deep inside him.
“Would you take me up sometime?” She spoke softly. “Not because you’re taking me to an appointment, but so that I can sit with you in the cockpit and see what you see?”