Wilde One

by Jannine Gallant

  “Thank God!” The sleeping bag rustled as he ripped the foil packet. Moments later he was back at her side, cupping her face in his hands as he rose over her. “You’re naked.”

  “So are you.”

  “Took about one second to lose the boxers.” He dropped a kiss onto her lips and lingered. “I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. Not. One. Place.” He settled between her thighs.”

  The breath whooshed out of her. “Neither can I.”

  “You’re sure about this?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes. Uh, Griff?”

  “What?”

  “Shut up and do it.”

  On a snort of laughter, he sank into her. All the tension drained from her body. In that moment, nothing existed but the two of them.

  “Heaven.”

  She wasn’t sure if he said it. Or if she did.

  When he began to move, the tension returned, tightening unbearably. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she clung like a mollusk. Nothing but the explosion that rocked her world could have pried her away.

  With a shout, he pushed hard one final time, his whole body shaking. Drenched in sweat, they lay pressed together. Finally, her heartbeat began to slow.

  She rubbed her cheek against the hard plain of his chest and let out a sigh. “That was certainly memorable. I hope you didn’t wake the other campers with that yell.”

  His chest shook on a rumbling chuckle. “Me? What about you?”

  She pushed up to look at him in the dark. “I didn’t make any noise.”

  “Are you kidding. “You screamed when you…” His breath came out in a rush. “At least I assume it was when you—”

  “Oh, God.” Heat surged up her neck. “I did?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. “It was hot. Very hot. Tipped me right over the edge. Not that I needed much of a nudge.”

  “Shoot me now.” She flopped back down. “Or should I say again.”

  His hand sifted through her long curls. “Why?”

  “Seems easier and quicker than dying of embarrassment.”

  “No reason to be embarrassed. You made me feel like a superstar. Although there was a moment or two when I thought Rocky might bite me. Didn’t you hear him growling?”

  She shook her head then glanced over at the dog. His long nose rested on his paws, and the whites of his eyes gleamed in the dark.

  “Apparently, I was completely oblivious.”

  He tightened his arms around her. “We should probably get some sleep since we have to get up early to be at the graveyard.”

  When an insistent prod pushed against her thigh, she grinned. “You don’t feel sleepy.”

  “I’m not.” He nipped her ear then licked the outer edge.

  A shudder rippled through her. “Me, either.”

  “God, Ainslee, I can’t even begin to describe how incredible you are.”

  She looped a leg over his waist. “Don’t you mean easy?”

  He smiled against her neck. “See. Smoking hot, funny and adorable. No man could resist that combination.”

  She framed his face in her hands and nipped his bottom lip. “I don’t know about that. Plenty seem to have managed to resist in the past.”

  “Idiots. All of them were idiots.” He caressed the side of her face. “You up for round two?”

  Warmth filled her, a deep level of comfort edged with anticipation that went far beyond sex. She let out a long, slow breath. “Oh, yeah, I’m ready.”

  * * * *

  Ainslee yawned so wide her jaw cracked as she stumbled between the rows of headstones in the pre-dawn gloom. “What are we looking for?”

  Griff stopped and scratched the back of his neck. “Hell if I know. Any ideas?”

  “Since I don’t see a big red X marks the spot, I think we’d better use our powers of deduction to figure it out. The graveyard isn’t huge, but there still have to be over a hundred stones. Blind luck probably isn’t going to cut it.”

  “Do you suppose Thomas is buried here?”

  “Maybe.” She frowned. “That might be a place to start, but you’d think Parnell would have looked around his grandpa’s grave.”

  “And if he’d found the next clue, he wouldn’t be coming back. What about the rings?” Griff fished them out of his pocket. “Old Victor obviously put them in the bottles for a reason.”

  Ainslee covered another yawn then gave her head a shake. “I can’t think straight. It’s your fault my brain is mush.”

  He smiled. “Last night your brain wasn’t my top priority. Now it is. Slug down that coffee and kick it out of neutral.”

  With a scowl his way, she sipped from the takeout cup and forced herself to think about something other than the reason for her current lack of mental acuity. She didn’t function well with only a couple hours of sleep, and Griff had been intent on depriving her of rest at regular intervals throughout the night. “Hand me the rings.”

  He did. “Cheap trinkets. Maybe they represent the treasure. Rubies and Amber. Do you think the others got different stones? Diamonds or emeralds or pearls?”

  Her hand clenched tight, and the metal and glass dug into her palm. “That must be it! Pearl is a name. So is Ruby and Amber. If we search for a headstone belonging to Ruby—”

  “You truly are amazing!” He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her. When she winced, he loosened his grip then stroked her arm below the bandage. “Sorry. I got excited and forgot.”

  “It still aches a little.” She backed up a step when he released her. “Let’s get moving. You take that side of the cemetery, and I’ll start here. Yell if you find a Ruby or an Amber. There could be more than one buried in this place.”

  Some of the stones were so dark and moldy with age Ainslee had to squint in the dim light to read them. The process was slower than she’d expected. Apparently Griff was experiencing the same frustration. A few muttered expletives echoed through the graveyard. She continued down the row. Margaret. Henry. Tobias. Ruth. Opal. Opal?

  “Hey, I think I found one.”

  Griff ran her way, tripped then swore again. “Damn it. Maybe we should have waited until we could actually see what we’re doing. Who’d you find?”

  “Opal.”

  “Opal? That’s not…oh, I get it. She could belong to one of the others.” Hands on hips, he stared at the grave. “I don’t see a clue.”

  “The grass looks disturbed at the base of the stone. Maybe something’s buried there.”

  “Should we look?”

  Ainslee let out a sigh. “If we wanted to play dirty, we could find all the clues and take them. Doesn’t seem very noble, and Ogden number four already accused us of cheating.”

  “It’d serve him right if we did, just for suggesting we’re not playing fair. But what’s the fun in winning if we cheat? Let’s leave it alone and keep looking for ours.” He turned away. “Back to the hunt. It’s starting to get lighter, so we should be able to move faster.”

  Two rows later, she let out a whoop. “I found Amber.” Kneeling on the soft grass, she dug into the loose sod at the base of the stone. A piece of turf peeled back. Beneath it rested a small wooden box in a shallow hole. After lifting it out, she patted the grass back into place then traced the letters and numbers carved into the headstone. “Amber Benoit. She was only twelve years old when she died.”

  Griff walked up and squatted beside her. He rubbed the back of Ainslee’s neck then dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Ruby was ninety-five. I found her, too.” He held up an identical box.

  She leaned against him. “I guess we got what we came for. So, why do I feel so sad?”

  “This girl lived over a hundred years ago. Lots of kids died back then. Disease. Natural disasters. God knows what else.”

  “Now it’s drive-by shootings.” Ainslee let out a sigh. “Rest in peace, Amber.” Touching the headstone a final time, she rose to her feet. “Do
you want to open the boxes?”

  He stood then laid a hand on her shoulder and pointed. “Look who’s here? Maybe we should get out of Dodge first.”

  A shadowy figure moved through the stones near the entrance to the cemetery.

  “It’s too dark to see his face, but it must be Parnell. No one else is that tall. Well, no one but other basketball players.”

  Griff pressed a hand against the small of her back. “Let’s go.”

  As they approached the gates, Jones hurried between the headstones in their direction. “Excuse me.” He stopped a few yards short, his gaze zeroing in on Ainslee. “Didn’t I see you in Boston?”

  She glanced at Griff. When he just shrugged, she nodded and held out her hand. “I’m Ainslee Fontaine. This is Griff Wilde.”

  A huge palm enclosed hers. “Parnell Jones.” The superstar shook hands with Griff then gave them a hesitant smile. “I don’t suppose your presence here is a coincidence.”

  “Nope.” Griff grinned. “I never imagined I’d be pitted against you in a contest. Maybe it isn’t basketball, but my brothers will still be green with envy.”

  White teeth flashed. “I’m always up for a game of hoops. Maybe at our next stop, uh, in…” His voice trailed off on a hopeful note.

  Ainslee laughed. “Do we look that dumb?”

  His smile fell away. “No, I’d say you’re pretty smart. Did you find the clue?”

  Griff nodded. “You haven’t?”

  “Not yet. I know it’s here somewhere, but…”

  Ainslee stepped forward. “What kind of ring did you get?”

  The big man reached in his pocket and held out his hand. The ring on his palm held a white plastic ball. “Cheap piece of crap.”

  “Since I’m a big fan…” Griff lifted one brow. “Do you mind?”

  Ainslee grinned. “You should ask for tickets or something in exchange for information.”

  The ball player’s eyes brightened. “I’m down with that. Front row seats anytime you want next season.”

  “You’re on!” Griff slapped him a high-five. “The piece of crap is a pearl. Go find a grave for someone named Pearl and lift the sod at the base of the headstone.”

  Parnell closed his eyes. “God, I’m an idiot. Hey, thanks. He pulled out his wallet and extracted a business card. Call when you know which game you want to see. I’ll put your names on a list.”

  “Sweet. Maybe we’ll see you at the next stop.”

  Jones laughed. “Not if I beat you there.”

  The man sauntered off, and Ainslee and Griff headed toward the SUV. Rocky greeted them with a few shrill barks.

  “Did you think we left you?” She nuzzled the squirming dog then pushed him over so she could climb in. “I guess we should check out the riddle before we go anywhere. Otherwise we won’t know which way to head.”

  Griff started the engine. “Read it while we drive.” He leaned forward and peered through the windshield. “Well, look at that.”

  She flipped open the lid of her box then glanced up. “Huh?”

  “It’s getting a little crowded around here.” He pointed toward a silver sedan. “I only caught a glimpse of the driver, but he had blond hair. I’m pretty sure it was Morris.”

  “Ha. Then we’re in the lead. My guess is Marietta’s still in bed.”

  “Let’s hope.” He turned out onto the street then hit the gas. “I’ve had enough of New Orleans. Let’s get the hell out of town.”

  Chapter 9

  “Get off the couch and go West 169 miles. An hour north you may get lucky. The tower holds the answer to the mail Suzie loves.” Ainslee laid the piece of paper in her lap then unfolded the clue from his box. “Yours is the same except it says the mail Jenny loves.”

  Griff scowled at the heavy traffic leading out of New Orleans. “What couch is Victor talking about?”

  Ainslee turned and dug through the pile of miscellaneous crap that had accumulated on the backseat. Facing forward again, she opened the road atlas. “Let’s see what town is 169 miles west of here.”

  “We’re on a freeway, not a couch.”

  “Maybe he just meant to get moving.”

  Griff rolled his eyes. “Victor was obviously more than a little crazy. Who knows what the hell he intended.”

  “Lafayette is about 150 miles, I’d guess. A place called Jennings looks like the right distance.” She glanced over and frowned. “Why would he send us there?”

  “He wouldn’t. Doesn’t the next part say an hour north?”

  “If we get lucky.” She studied the map again. “I don’t even see a major road north from Jennings. Provided there are rural routes, an hour north would be somewhere near Lecompte.”

  “That can’t be right. None of his army buddies was from around there.” He smacked the steering wheel with his fist. “We should be going to either Iowa or Wyoming or maybe Victor’s hometown. What’s in the boxes besides the clue?”

  “Keys again.” She held one up, brown colored metal with a round head. “I’m almost positive this is to a post office box. And the word mail in the riddle is spelled with an il instead of an le, which would be the correct usage if he meant the man Suzie or Jenny loves.”

  “Huh? That made absolutely no sense.”

  She sighed. “Yes, it did. Anyway, I bet the keys will open post office boxes.”

  “Great, but that isn’t going to help if we don’t know what town we’re going to.”

  “You’re right.” She settled Rocky more comfortably across her lap. “Okay, let’s go at this from a different direction. Any well-known couches in Wyoming?”

  He snorted. “We’re famous for Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons and maybe rodeos and ranches, but not a freaking sofa.”

  Ainslee turned to stare at him. “Are you always this pleasant when you’re sleep deprived? If so, no more sex for you.”

  A smile curved his lips. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. Victor irritates the hell out of me, and since he’s dead, I can’t take it out on him.” He let out a long breath. “To answer your question, no famous couches or sofas or loveseats or even recliners in Wyoming.”

  “Oh. My. God! That’s it!”

  His head snapped around. “What?”

  “Davenport. A davenport is an old-fashioned word for a couch. Davenport, Iowa.”

  “You’re freaking brilliant!”

  “I try.” She flipped pages on the road atlas. “Looks like Des Moines is about 169 miles west of Davenport. An hour north of that is…drumroll.”

  He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

  She grinned. “Cloverdale, my hometown!”

  “Now that makes sense. I assume your great-grandpa Frank lived there, too.”

  “Yep. Not on our family farm. That comes from my dad’s side of the gene pool. Frank was actually a mechanic before he joined the army. His widow raised their daughter in Cloverdale, and Grandma Nell married a local boy. Then my mom married my dad and moved to the farm. No one leaves Cloverdale. Except me.”

  “You’re the odd duck in the group?”

  “I like to think of myself as a swan.”

  His grin flashed. “Back to the clue. What about the getting lucky part?”

  “A four-leaf clover is lucky. That must be Victor’s way of helping guide the non-local contestants to Cloverdale.” She frowned. “I wonder what tower he’s referring to. There aren’t any tall buildings in town.”

  “What about those silo things you see on farms?”

  “Grain elevators? We have them. That could be it. I guess we’ll figure out the tower and the names once we get there.”

  “It’s a long drive to Iowa.” He glanced over. “How far do you think?”

  “Hmm.” She directed her attention to the map. “If my math’s correct, about 1,000 miles. That’s a two-day drive. We should be able to reach Missouri by this evening if we don’t make too many stops. Basically we’re heading straight nor
th. Follow the signs for Baton Rouge and then to Little Rock.”

  “Let’s hope our competitors don’t know what a davenport is. I’d like to hold our lead.”

  “No doubt. In the meantime, we can kick back and enjoy the scenery.” She smiled. “If I can keep my eyes open. Let me know when you need a break from driving.”

  “I will.”

  Ainslee fell asleep not long afterward. Griff’s gaze returned again and again to the dark lashes fanned against pale cheeks, the short, straight nose and full lips, open slightly to accommodate steady breathing. As the miles rolled away, the night they’d spent together played over in his mind. The woman was a firecracker in bed. Not to mention funny and smart. And independent. He admired the hell out of her.

  This had turned into the perfect break between jobs. Something challenging and entertaining to occupy his time, accompanied by the perfect companion for the journey. Both he and Ainslee knew the trip would end eventually. When it did, he’d go to his next salvage job, and she’d take a teaching position somewhere less stressful than New York City. They’d part ways to move on with their real lives. He pressed a hand to his chest at the quick stab of pain. Not that he was in a hurry to go anywhere without Ainslee. Maybe they could stay in touch. See each other now and then. His gaze drifted to the rise and fall of her breasts beneath a scoop-necked top that revealed a hint of cleavage. His shorts tightened unnervingly. Maybe she’d agree to a friends-with-benefits arrangement.

  He gave a little nod. That would be best. They’d keep it casual, just as he had with every relationship since the nightmare with Johanna… His mind skittered away as sweat broke out on his forehead. As long as they were both on the same page, everything would work out just great.

  Rocky opened his eyes and gave him a long look. One side of his lip lifted in a snarl before the dog shifted positions on Ainslee’s lap and went back to sleep.

  Griff grinned. Damned little thing seemed to read his thoughts—and didn’t like them one bit. He was glad Ainslee had the mutt. Rocky wouldn’t exactly provide her with the protection of a Doberman, but he would keep her company. Griff just hoped wherever she chose to teach wouldn’t be somewhere she’d need a watchdog. The thought of her in danger from some little delinquent turned his stomach.