Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

Her laughter fills the truck. It even drowns out the roar of my diesel. While I love few things more than hearing an engine roar, the sound of her laughter would be one.

My lips twist into an amused smile as I hammer the gas.

“Oh, my gosh.” She reaches up and grabs the oh shit handle. “I never should’ve agreed to this.”

“You love it, and you know it.”

She looks at me and beams. “Okay. I kind of doooo … Ah! What are you doing?”

I laugh as I pilot the truck up the hill toward Bluebird Hill.

The sun sets behind us, casting pinks and purple rays through the sky. We hit the top of the hill, and I ease up on the gas.

The vision of Dylan and Nana together comes back to me as the truck slows. To say I was blown away today by this woman sitting beside me would be an understatement.

What kind of girl spends her afternoon helping out an old lady rearrange her cabinets? Out of the kindness of her heart?

I look over my shoulder to see that woman gazing out the window.

My heart tugs in my chest.

“Oh, wow.” Dylan gasps as she takes in the view. She unbuckles her seat belt and looks over both shoulders to get a panoramic view. “This is beautiful.”

I look at her and grin. “Yes, it is.”

She smacks my knee, leaving her hand to rest on my thigh. Her fingers press against my jeans as she scoots closer to me.

Her hand is heavy on my leg. I try to ignore it so I don’t get distracted as I whip the truck around to face the valley. I park it right next to the edge and cut the engine.

Pine trees cover the hills and valleys surrounding Bluebird Hill. It’s my favorite spot in the world.

“Peck,” she says. “Wow. Just wow.”

“Right?”

“How did you even know this was here?”

“Well, there’s a sign …”

She jabs me in the side with her elbow.

I laugh. “Everyone knows about Bluebird Hill. It’s not a hill, really. Just a change in elevation. There’s a little wooded area over there,” I say, pointing to the right, “where everyone goes to park in high school.”

“Oooh,” she says.

“And back there is where everyone fights.” I gesture toward a spot behind a giant rock. “But my favorite spot, besides this one, is the one I’m going to show you next.”

“Is it better than this?”

I stick my tongue in my cheek. I can’t wait to see her face when we get back there.

“Maybe,” I say. “We’ll see what you think.”

I start the engine again and stick it in reverse. Gravel and dirt go flying as my tires dig into the ground. Dylan is all smiles.

My spirits are high. Things are just … good. Damn good. Better than I ever imagined things could be.

A part of me doesn’t want to think about it too much. Acknowledging how great things are going will undoubtedly jinx it, and I just want this to last as long as it can.

“Okay, Hawkeye,” I say. “You ready?”

“I mean, I don’t know. Am I?”

Excitement flickers in her eyes as she takes in our surroundings. I veer off onto a path that only locals would ever see. It meanders through a patch of woods, the limbs scraping the paint on my truck, before opening into a field.

A field of mud.

“Oh, shit,” Dylan says. “Can you back out of here?”

“Nope.” The last syllable pops.

“Um, then what are we going to do?” She looks around. “I mean, there are trees on three sides of us and a giant field of gunk in front of us. I don’t think you really have any other options.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course we do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Buckle up, baby. And hold on.” I grin, my heart beating hard in my chest.

She looks at me warily. “Peck …”

“Five … four …”

“But you aren’t buckled up,” she says, grasping for the seat belt.

“Because I’m an expert. Three … two …”

“Wait!” she exclaims with a nervous laugh. “Is this even legal?”

“One. No. Here we go.”

I wait until I hear the click of her seat belt before I stomp the gas. She clutches the handle above her head, her eyes as wide as saucers.

The engine roars to life as our speed increases. I move the truck a few feet to the left of center. From experience, I know that the mud pit isn’t quite as deep there, and we can rip through it a little easier.

“Peck … Ah!” She screams as we hit the mud.

Thick, brown gunk flies over the truck and coats the windows. I flip on the windshield wipers even though it won’t do any good. It’ll only smear it. Still, it’s good for the experience.

We’re midway through and blind from the mud. I keep the engine roaring as we plow through the wet muck. Dylan giggles beside me, her hand on the ceiling as she tries to keep herself pressed in the seat. I take every chance I can get to take a quick peek at her. The excitement in her eyes is worth every bit of time it’ll take tomorrow to clean this fucker.