Uninvited
Page 39
Page 39
Author: Sophie Jordan
Sabine munches on dry cereal. “Hey,” she greets after swallowing her mouthful. She looks different since leaving Mount Haven. With the lines of her face less strained, she’s pretty in a way I had never noticed before.
Gil offers me a distracted wave as he studies his cards intently.
“Hi. ” I take an apple off the counter.
I nod to the trailer door. “Sean outside?”
Gil flicks his gaze away for a split second. “Yeah. The usual spot. ”
I take a noisy bite from the apple and slip on my shoes sitting beside the door.
Stepping outside, I blink against the glare, holding a hand over my eyes. It’s not too hot yet, at least in the mornings, but the promise is there, in the day to come, in the weeks ahead. I move over the broken ground, skirting patches of mesquite scrub and small cacti. I pick my way to where Sean sits, his back to me.
He’s parked on an outcropping of rock, looking down with binoculars at the valley below. Sunlight shines off his hair, gilding the long strands a brilliant shade of dark gold.
He lowers the binoculars as I take a seat beside him. “Morning, sleepyhead. ”
I shrug. “What can I say? It feels good to sleep in. ”
Smiling, he leans across the space between us and kisses me. Slow and lingering. It’s like this now. Kisses. Touches. All freely given and taken. In just three days, being with him has become as necessary as breathing. It’s like being here, time suspends. We forget Mount Haven and everything that happened there. The outside world is forgotten.
I nod to the valley below. “How’s it going?”
He follows my gaze. “I think I have their patterns figured out. ”
I take the binoculars from him and study the river, a thick serpent amid the sloping mountains, the water more brown than blue. “It looks quiet. ”
“A patrol just went by. Like every day at this time. ”
“What about the construction crews?” My gaze narrows on the orange flags and stakes, indicating where the wall will go to divide Mexico from Texas.
“No sight of them in two days. I think we have some time while they’re surveying and setting the rest of the pins along the border north of here. ”
I nod and lower the binoculars. “So when do we cross?”
“Well, according to Gil’s guy, they pick up on Mondays on the other side, but I think it’s safer to leave Sunday around four a. m. Our chances should be good then. We’ll just have to lay low and camp out one night. ” He touches my cheek, his fingers a whisper-soft brush on my skin.
A night with him under the stars? I could handle that. I lean into his caress, looking from him to the river below and the wild stretch of land beyond. Where we’re headed. Where our future awaits.
“I’m ready. ”