Wilde One

by Jannine Gallant

  Those green eyes twinkled. “Want a job? You’d certainly brighten up my crew.”

  She made a face. “I can dogpaddle—sort of.”

  His laugh turned heads in the small café. “I do have a few minimum qualifications. Swimming is one of them.”

  “Figures. I guess I’ll have to look for alternate employment elsewhere. Where’re you working next?”

  “My crew made it clear they need a break. I’m giving them a month or two off, and then I’ll probably head for California.”

  “So, for the summer at least, we’re in the same boat. So to speak.”

  His quick grin flashed. “Good one.”

  “I do have a sense of humor. I wouldn’t have survived the last few years without one.” She pushed away her half-empty salad bowl. “If you’re finished eating, shouldn’t we get to work on the riddle? Our competition could be right behind us. Or ahead of us. Who knows.”

  “Fine. You read the damn thing, if you don’t mind. Victor’s writing gives me a headache.”

  She pulled the card out of her purse and cleared her throat. “Find the home new to the Dutch long before France sent her lady. Next to a teacup village, go round and round this bush and drink to Speed.”

  Griff pushed back his chair, scooped up the bill then dropped a tip next to his plate. “It’s official.”

  “What is?”

  “Old Victor was either a complete nut case—or a sadist. Not one word of that makes any sense.”

  Ainslee stood and followed him up to the cashier. “We may have to rethink our arrangement.”

  He handed the teen with purple streaks in her hair working the register a twenty then turned and frowned. “Why? We’ve been getting along great. At least I thought we were.”

  “We have been, but I don’t intend to haul around any dead weight.”

  Dark brows shot into his hair. “Hey!”

  “Mister, your change.”

  Grabbing the handful of bills from the girl, he hurried to open the door. “I’m not dead weight. Why would you think that?”

  “Victor was clever, but not as smart as I am. I know where we’re going next.”

  He laid a hand on her arm. Tingles quivered through her. Maybe her new partner wasn’t great at riddles, but there were plenty of things she bet he did with exceptional skill.

  “You do?”

  “Yep.” She pointed toward her SUV, looking like a second-class citizen squeezed between two luxury sedans. “Get in if you’re coming. We’re headed back to New York.”

  Chapter 3

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  Ainslee glanced toward her passenger. Dusky evening light shadowed the hard planes and angles of his face. They’d been traveling for over two hours, and she grew more thankful for his company with each passing mile. Griff’s tales of adventure at sea were the only things keeping her from dozing off.

  “Would you mind? It’s been a long day, and I already made this drive once. I can’t believe I’m going back so soon.”

  “I tell you, the old guy had an evil streak. He could have left the first clue in New York to make your life easier.”

  “Maybe one of the others is from Boston.” She took the next exit off the interstate and pulled up by the fuel pumps in front of a convenience store. “Changing places now works since I needed to stop for gas anyway.”

  “I’ll chip in. We can share costs.” He smiled. “See, I’m not completely worthless.”

  Ainslee stepped out of the SUV. When he did the same, she met his gaze over the roof. “Sorry about that comment. I was feeling a little cocky for getting Victor’s references right off the bat.”

  “As a history teacher, you have an unfair advantage. How was I supposed to know New York was originally called New Amsterdam?”

  “General knowledge, Griff. The same way you should have known the Statue of Liberty was a gift from France.” She reached for the pump handle.

  “Hey, I’ll get that. Take a walk or something. You look tense.”

  With a nod, Ainslee left him in charge of gassing up. If she appeared tense, it was probably because she’d spent the last hour wondering about the night ahead. At some point they’d have to find a place to sleep. Too bad she’d returned her apartment key. A sleeping bag and tent were stashed in the back of the car, and paying for hotel rooms wasn’t part of her game plan. But having a man along, especially this man, complicated matters.

  “Watch out, lady.”

  “Huh? Sorry.” She moved away from the glass doors leading into the store as a tattooed biker carrying a helmet and a soda nearly whacked into her in his rush to get past. Possibly coffee would keep her alert until they reached the city. Or maybe they should put in a few more miles then find someplace to stay that wouldn’t cost a fortune. She wasn’t in any frame of mind to figure out the exact location of the next clue without a solid seven or eight hours sleep first.

  She pushed open the doors then headed toward a coffee station in the back. After filling two tall cups and adding cream and sugar to one, she grabbed a few spare packets of each before paying for her purchase. Griff was putting the nozzle back in place as she walked toward the pumps.

  He stuffed a receipt in his pocket then took the cup she handed him. “Thanks.”

  “My treat.”

  Once they were both seated with the doors shut, he pulled out of the station. A minute later they were back on the interstate, sipping coffee, with the warm evening breeze blowing through the windows.

  He glanced over. “Where’re we going once we reach the city?”

  “I’m not sure.” She stared through the windshield at the oncoming traffic and frowned. “I’ll have to give the second half of the clue some more thought. Do you have any ideas?”

  “The teacup village made me think of Disneyland.”

  She nodded. “I know what you mean—those spinning cups. But that doesn’t fit with New York. It must refer to something else. I’ll sleep on it.”

  “Speaking of sleep, where do you want to stay tonight?”

  She clasped her hands together in her lap. “Nowhere expensive. I need to conserve my funds until I get situated and land a new job. I’d originally planned to camp.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He shot her a smile. “I love roughing it. I’m up for camping. It’s so warm out this evening, I’ll be fine without a bag if you have a blanket back there.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Once we know where we’re headed after New York, I can see about acquiring some basic gear.”

  A long breath slipped out. This man, who was a complete stranger, made the prospect of camping together sound so natural. Have I lost my mind, hooking up with Mr. Tall, Dark and Chatty?

  Probably.

  She gave a shrug, casting off her normally cautious nature. “Sure, why not?”

  “Any ideas where we can stop? I haven’t spent much time in Connecticut.”

  “I camped at a beautiful state park on the Housatonic River once, which isn’t too far out of our way. It’ll be full this time of year, but I remember seeing a private campground nearby. We could try that.”

  He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Just tell me where to go.”

  Maybe she was simply used to dating uptight guys focused on their careers, but Ainslee couldn’t remember ever spending time with a man as easy to get along with as Griff Wilde. She relaxed in the seat and finished her coffee, letting the stress she’d been under for what seemed like forever flow out of her. Traveling with a stranger might not be the smartest, safest move she’d ever made, but hanging out with a man as laid back as he was would surely have some beneficial side effects. Enjoying the moment seemed destined to be one of them.

  “Once we get through Hartford, stay on I-84 west.” Ainslee peered at the map. “We’ll leave the interstate in Waterbury. The road along the river is really pretty.”

  Griff rubbed his stomach. “Then maybe we should stop for food before we do. It’s pa
st dinnertime.”

  She turned and eyed him up and down. “You ate a huge burger less than four hours ago. You can’t possibly be hungry.”

  “Want to bet?” His smile flashed. “I have a fast metabolism.”

  “Lucky for you, or you’d look like a hippo.”

  He certainly wasn’t the least bit overweight. When he shifted in the seat and stretched, his T-shirt tightened across nothing but firm muscle. Ainslee swallowed.

  “You didn’t eat much in Boston, so you must be starving.”

  She drew in a breath. “Now that you mention it, I could go for a taco. Something spicy, if that’s okay with you.”

  “The spicier the better. We’ll look for a drive-through.”

  An hour later they’d finished their takeout tacos and traveled along the Housatonic River to the campground Ainslee remembered. The camp host took the twenty she handed over before sending them on their way to the last available site.

  “Lucky thirteen.” Griff pulled to a stop and set the brake.

  “Certainly lucky for us.” She climbed out of the SUV and rotated her shoulders to stretch. “I’m sick of riding in the car.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I enjoy spending time on the road. Maybe because I live half my life on the water. This is a great change of pace.”

  Birds twittered in a stand of trees, and moonlight illuminated a picnic table and fire ring. The soothing lap of the river against the shore came from their left. Tranquility settled over her like a calming embrace.

  Ainslee let out a deep sigh. “This was a great idea, much better than listening to traffic from some motel room near the highway. I can’t believe I lasted five years in a city where sirens and blaring horns were the norm.” She waved a hand toward the trees. “I’d rather have birds.”

  He dropped down onto the bench and leaned back against the table, arms crossed, legs stretched out in front of him. “Why’d you move to New York if you aren’t a city person?”

  She grimaced. “I was looking for something new and challenging and different. New York was all that and more. I wanted to escape from the tedium of farm life—and got it in spades. Having a kid high on meth wave a knife at you will certainly get your blood pumping.”

  “I imagine so.”

  She laughed. “Made me appreciate cows. My problem was I went to a local college. I should have ventured further afield. When I finally broke free of my roots, I did so with a vengeance.”

  “Nothing wrong with starting over. It may be a cliché to say we learn from our mistakes, but it’s also true. I’ve made my share. Life’s about living and learning.”

  “Wise words.”

  “I don’t know about that, but I always try to look ahead, not behind.” He slapped his arm. “Speaking of mistakes…it’s plenty warm, but the mosquitoes are vicious. How do you feel about sharing your tent?”

  Her stomach did a couple of flips and ended on a double twisting cartwheel. “I don’t know.”

  He straightened from his slouching position. “No problem. I can curl up on the backseat of the car.”

  “It isn’t long enough. You’d be miserable.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll share. You’ve given me no reason not to trust you.”

  His gaze was sober. “Thank you. I really do appreciate your confidence in me.” He slapped again then pushed away from the table. “Let’s set up the tent before we both get munched alive.”

  She walked around to the back of the SUV and lifted the hatch. The interior light blinked on. “I’m lucky. Mosquitoes don’t bother me. I must taste bad.”

  He stopped beside her, their shoulders brushing. One big hand touched her arm, and his eyes glowed. “Honey, I don’t believe that for a minute.”

  Before she could form a rational thought, let alone respond, he lifted the nylon sack containing the tent off the pile and turned away. Pressing a hand to her chest, she focused on breathing as he carried the tent to a flat area and unzipped the bag.

  “Oh, my.” She waited for her racing pulse to slow.

  With a single comment, not to mention the flash of heat in his eyes, he’d destroyed every bit of her peace and calm. Ainslee had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be a long night.

  * * * *

  Griff woke early after getting only a couple hours of sleep. Outside the tent, the relentless birds chirped their brains out in the trees. Between the rock hard ground he was lying on and listening to Ainslee’s soft breathing beside him, he’d been awake the majority of the night. The ground wasn’t the only thing rock hard.

  She smelled like the wild roses that grew near their Wyoming ranch. The subtle scent had teased—no tormented—his senses throughout the night. That and the curve of her breast beneath a thin T-shirt, revealed by the moonlight shining through the tent wall. The same enticing curve taunted him in the early morning light. Lying in the overwarm tent wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts and a tank top, perspiration dotted his skin. The breaking dawn also highlighted his jutting boner. Time to get the hell out of the tent before she woke up.

  What he really wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss his way down the length of her sweet-smelling neck, bury his hands in those amazing spiraling curls. Too bad he was pretty sure any move on his part would earn him a one-way ticket straight to the nearest bus station. He hadn’t failed to notice the wariness in her eyes the night before. Not that he blamed her. Any smart woman in her position would be cautious, despite the fact he’d done his best to present a nonthreatening front to put her at ease. Maybe in a few days, once they got to know each other better…

  Jerking upright, he unzipped the tent door and crawled out. After shoving his feet into an old pair of running shoes without benefit of socks, he grabbed his duffle bag out from beneath the picnic table and headed toward the bathrooms. Thank God this place had showers since he was pretty sure he didn’t smell much like a rose. Probably more like one of those cows she’d mentioned growing to appreciate.

  Twenty minutes later, showered, shaved and dressed in shorts and a blue T-shirt, he returned to the campsite. Ainslee sat at the picnic table, still dressed in the shirt she’d slept in, hair hanging in a mass of tangles down her back. The newest clue lay in front of her, and she typed rapidly on her cell.

  “Texting someone? Dare I hope it’s a breakfast order?”

  She glanced up and smiled. “Good morning. We should have thought ahead last night and picked up some donuts. And coffee. Especially coffee.”

  He sat across from her and pointed at the clue. “You figure it out yet?”

  “I think I have another piece.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “The go round and round this bush part.”

  “What bush?” he scowled at the scrawled writing. “Why didn’t the old bastard just spit it out?”

  “You really aren’t a fan of Victor’s.”

  “I’d bet my salvage boat he was involved in something illegal when he acquired this treasure, whatever the hell it is. I can’t imagine any other reason he sat on it for so long.”

  Her smile faded. “So even if we find the prize first, we might have to give it back?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Depends on what it is. There could be a statute of limitations if the treasure was stolen. Or maybe I’m wrong about that, and Victor was just an obsessive hoarder.” He planted his elbows on the table and grinned. “Anyway, I’m having fun hunting for it. Aren’t you?”

  The disappointment in her eyes cleared. “I like a challenge. Yes, I’m having fun. If I wind up with a fortune, I’ll look at any bump in my bank account as a bonus.”

  “That’s the spirit. Now about that bush…”

  “Say it in a sing-song voice.” She started humming.

  Griff picked up the tune. “Go round and round the—mulberry bush!” He slapped his hands down on the table. “My God, you’re a genius.”

  “I haven’t actually been tested, but it’s a
distinct possibility.” She threw him a teasing smile. “I searched for any mulberries in New York.”

  “And?”

  “There’s a Mulberry Street in Little Italy. Little Italy is right next to—”

  “Chinatown!”

  One of her brows shot up. “You’re familiar with New York?”

  “I spent a little time there after a salvage mission near Long Island. Am I right about Little Italy?”

  “You’re right. I’d have to say the teacup village refers to Chinatown, so we’re supposed to find Mulberry Street and drink to Speed.”

  He hopped to his feet. “Maybe it’s the name of a bar. Old Victor left us those bottle labels for a reason.”

  “That’s what I thought, but I’ve been searching online and can’t find a bar in the area with Speed in the name.”

  “Still, I think we’re on the right track, not like my Liberty Bell fiasco. I say we go to Mulberry Street and figure out the rest when we get there.”

  “I agree.” She rose to her feet. “First I need to grab a shower.”

  “I’ll take down the tent and pack the car while you do it.”

  Her smile sent a quiver through him. Damn, the woman is pretty.

  “Thanks.”

  “You bet. Then we go eat breakfast. I can’t hunt for a bar on an empty stomach.”

  “Of course you can’t.” She scooped up the bag she’d left beside the tent and strolled away, hips swaying.

  His gaze followed their gentle motion, and he swallowed. Drawing in a long breath, he turned his back. Time to get his mind out of the gutter—and take down the tent. Once that chore was finished, he ambled along the path to the river then sat on the bank, tossing sticks into the current.

  He didn’t think his attraction to Ainslee was all one-sided. Every now and then he caught her looking his way with a flicker of heat in her eyes that gave him hope. Twenty-four hours ago, he hadn’t known this woman existed, but he liked her. A lot. Would he love to turn their budding friendship into a physical relationship—hell, yes. But he could be patient. If he’d learned nothing else on endless dives searching for wrecks lost for centuries, it was to take his time. Occasionally a tiny shift in the currents made all the difference. He hoped before too long Ainslee’s trust in him would build and turn into interest. In fact, he was counting on it.