Long Road Home

by Marie Meyer

  I’m well aware that the only words I’ve uttered since showing up at her door have been three syllables or less. Pull yourself together, Sinclair. “Um”—I blink, trying to get my brain involved in this conversation—“Uh…I thought we’d head down to the Meramec River, there are some good hiking trails there. We can scope out what caches are around, too.”

  “Caches? You said they’re hidden objects?”

  I nod and follow her to the door, catching a whiff of coconut this time. I hate that I’m going to have to hand her a can of Deep Woods Off!—it’s a crime to cover up that divine scent—but bugs will devour her like a ripe peach, smelling the way she does.

  “Yep. Millions of them, hidden all over the world. We’ll start small and see what we can find by the river.”

  We step into the hallway and Ren locks her apartment, stuffing her keys into a small backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Cool. I’ve never been treasure hunting before! We’re like pirates looking for booty!”

  A deep carnal laugh erupts from inside my body. All the booty I want is right here. My hands twitch, begging to run along the curves of her ass. Those shorts…damn. This caching expedition is going to be fucking impossible with the hard-on I’m going to have all day.

  Ren puts her hands on her waist, jutting out her curvy hip.

  Fuck me. This chick is walking, breathing sex.

  I keep my dirty thoughts locked down. “As I recall, sweetheart, you laughed at me last night. Turnabout’s fair play.” I wink.

  “So it is.” She scrutinizes, trying to figure me out. “What’s so funny?”

  A beam of sunlight shines through the high windows in the corridor and falls on her face making her espresso colored eyes sparkle. Excitement is written all over her face.

  “You can’t say ‘booty,’ wearing those shorts, and not expect my mind to…wander.”

  “Oh.” The twinkle in her eyes fades.

  Abort! Abort! Too soon, Sinclair. Fix this.

  Embarrassed, I cough out an apology, “Sorry. I—”

  The shadow dissipates and the mischievous sparkle returns to her eyes, but she’s biting her lip again. “No, it’s okay,” she says, laughing nervously, tugging the back of her shirt a little lower.

  God, I’m such a shit. I hate that my words made her feel self-conscious. Time to clear the air, change the subject. “When I was younger, my parents and I went caching all the time. You never know what you’ll find.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for then, you promised me some treasure.” She grins, reticent body language abating.

  I get to spend the entire day with this girl; a thrill singes my veins. Last night, when we danced, she didn’t shy away from me, hopefully I didn’t ruin things with my big mouth, because I’m craving her touch like a starving man craves breadcrumbs.

  I tempt fate and reach for her hand, lacing my fingers between hers.

  When she gives our entwined hands a gentle swing, I know today is going to be fan-fucking-tastic.

  * * *

  I open the door for Ren, help her down, then fold her seat forward and grab my hiking gear from the back. I’ve got a couple GPS devices, bottles of water, bug spray, power bars, first-aid kit, flashlight, batteries, multipurpose tool, and matches. I went for the smaller backpack knowing we wouldn’t be doing any major hiking today. I’ll go easy on her, I want there to be a second date.

  Before shouldering the pack, I unzip it and pull out a can of bug spray. Remembering the subtle wafts of Ren’s tropical perfume and baby powder scent back at her apartment, I toss her the can. “You’re going to need this. Being this close to the river, the area is a breeding ground for mosquitoes.”

  Ren catches the can and pops the lid off. “Thanks.” She sighs and extends her left arm, making several passes. A heavy mist coats her skin and she repeats the process over her other arm, her long, slender legs, neck, and then turns the can and showers her clothes and hair.

  I chuckle at her excessiveness. “Hopefully it’s just the bugs you’re trying to keep away.”

  A sheepish smile tugs at the corner of her bow-shaped mouth. She wrinkles her nose and my heart skips a beat. “I hate to admit this, but I’m terrified of bugs. And…” She hesitates. “I’m not really the outdoorsy type.”

  I step closer and wrap my hands around her fingers that are still clinging to the can of Off! like it’s a cross, warding away vampires. “Stay close, I’ll keep you safe,” I say, slowly lifting the can free from her grip.

  She no longer smells of citrus, but like she bathed in DEET. She may repel every six- and eight-legged critter in a hundred-mile radius, but I’m more attracted to her than ever. Off!, bug repellant and aphrodisiac. I know it’s too soon to kiss her, but damn if I don’t want to.

  She lets out a breath. “Lucky for me.”

  “Mind if I use this?” I hold up the can between us.

  I don’t take my eyes off her, while I give my arms and legs a quick spray. “Glad you saved me some.” I wink and stuff the can back in my bag.

  “Oh, I bet you have another can in there somewhere, Boy Scout.”

  She isn’t wrong, I do have more, but I can’t help but tease her.

  “Boy Scout? Try Marine.”

  “You’re a Marine and a cop?”

  “Yes, ma’am, enlisted right out of high school. Not active duty anymore, though. Just the cop gig.”

  She looks me up and down, not hiding the fact that she’s checking me out, and I don’t mind being her eye candy.

  “Why aren’t you still with the Marines?”

  I look down and rummage through my backpack for the GPS device. I’d hoped Mom’s story would have come up later. I don’t want to mire all our positive sexual tension in depressing crap.

  I draw the GPS out of the bag and look back at Ren. “My family’s gone through some shit in the last two years. My dad passed away while I was in Afghanistan, then my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. With Dad gone, she needed me, so when my time was up, I didn’t reenlist.”

  “Cayden, I’m so sorry.” She reaches for me, touching my shoulder.

  Yeah, the last couple years have sucked; I’ve been holding the best poker hand for the worst jackpot. But, hearing my name caressed by Ren’s voice has me ready to fold, to let her be strong for me.

  Tapping the GPS against the palm of my hand, I give her a half smile. “Thanks. What’s important now is staying strong for my mom.” I power up the nav, something to do while I get my head back in the game. Can’t lose focus. Got to stay strong.

  She lowers her hand and presses her lips into a thin smile. More questions cloud her face, but thankfully she holds them in. When it comes to losing Dad, and Mom being sick, I don’t like to talk about it.

  “Ready to hit the trails?” I hold up the GPS.

  Her smile widens. “I do believe you promised me some booty.”

  I raise an eyebrow, smirking, glad she’s relaxing a bit. “And I never break a promise, sweetheart.”

  I dial up the coordinates of a nearby cache and grab her hand. “We’re going this way.”

  The trail starts off friendly, but soon I’m forced to give up her hand when the terrain gets rough. The well-worn dirt path ends in a tangle of overgrown weeds. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that this cache is safe from muggles.”

  “Muggles? Now that’s a word I know,” she says, coming to a stop at my side. “What do muggles have to do with treasure hunting?”

  Pushing the brush aside, I motion for Ren to pass through. “Well, the term is borrowed from those Harry Potter books, but in geocaching, muggles are what seasoned cachers call those who aren’t cachers.” Ren hikes through the clearing I made for her. The path is tight and when she walks past me, her shoulders brush against my chest. Shit. Even her shoulders turn me on. This girl will be the death of me.

  “Yesterday, you were a muggle. Today, you’re not.” At this, she flashes me a wide, toothy grin.

  “That
is so cool! And I thought I was doomed to live the rest of my days as a muggle.”

  Safely past the overgrown foliage, she takes my hand in hers, setting them swinging. “Maybe now, since I’m no longer a muggle, I can master the Wingardium Leviosa charm. I’ve always wanted to fly.” Looking at me, she wags her eyebrows. “Are you a Harry Potter fan? What house are you?” She stops abruptly, whirling on me. “No wait, let me guess.”

  I lean back against a tree and cross my arms, enjoying the moment, reveling in how damn cute she is, and how much she’s going to freak out when I tell her I’ve never read Harry Potter, or seen the movies. Reading just wasn’t my thing in school and back when the movies were popular, I was all about doing the exact opposite.

  “Given your professions, the whole protecting-and-serving gig, I’d say you’re a Gryffindor.” A breeze ruffles her wavy hair and she swipes at her bangs.

  I shrug and drop the backpack and GPS on the ground, smiling wryly.

  Ren’s big, dark eyes get even bigger. “That’s it? A shrug? Am I right?” She takes three steps, inching up the small incline to where I’m standing.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it. I don’t know what a Gryffindor is, or a Wingdingum Lovesa.”

  Ren’s eyebrows dart up and her eyes pop wide. “WHAAAT!” she roars. A bird, startled by her outburst, swoops from the tree overhead and a shower of leaves rains down on us. Ren claps a hand over her mouth and giggles, stepping right in front of me. If it weren’t for the playful smirk on her face, I would have thought she was seriously angered by my admission. Fuck, I want to kiss her.

  Quieter this time, she adds, “You did not just say you don’t know what a Gryffindor is, did you? And it’s Wingardium Levi-o-sa,” she enunciates.

  I lean down, our faces just inches apart. “I hope this isn’t the deal breaker, because I really want to kiss you right now.” I pick a leaf from her hair and tap it against her nose.

  For a moment, I think she might be considering her escape options. Maybe it is beyond the realm of possibility to be attracted to someone who is not a Harry Potter fan. I can’t get a read on her. She stares, blinking a few times, and I’m distracted by the way her lashes curl, brushing along the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Every time I look at her, I find something new and fascinating, something that makes me realize she’s more special than every other girl in my past.

  It may be too soon to kiss her, I know we only met last night, but I can’t help it. I rest my palm against her cheek. She’s soft and warm and when she leans into my touch, I don’t need any more of an invitation. Inches become millimeters and then my lips are on hers.

  Our mouths find a slow, hesitant rhythm, dancing just along the surface, getting acquainted. She’s shy and tentative, guarded.

  I bring my other hand to her face, cradling her head between my palms, letting my body language speak to her…You’re safe with me. I’ll protect you. With the slightest pressure in my fingertips, I draw her closer.

  Keeping it slow, I open my mouth and trace my tongue along the seam of her lips, memorizing each curve, tasting the subtle flavor of her fruity lip balm…pressing, hoping she wants more.

  Ren sighs; melting into me, and her tongue meets mine.

  Lightning rips through my veins, white hot, and my self-control is incinerated. I slide my fingers into her hair, and sweep my tongue into her mouth. I can’t stop there. My arms are around her, engulfing her body with mine.

  Her hands go to my face, anchoring me to her. The tips of her fingers trace over the scar at my temple. The usual apprehension doesn’t come. I welcome her touch, the wildfire that’s sweeping through my body.

  In one quick motion, I spin her around and guide her backward until she thumps against the tree I was just leaning on. I plant my hands on each side of her head and press our bodies together.

  “Oh—” she murmurs, exhaling.

  Her breath becomes mine.

  I take her bottom lip between my teeth and nip before plunging my tongue deeper into her mouth, unable to fight the groan that rumbles in my chest. Kissing her destroys all my self-discipline. I can’t get enough.

  “Mmm,” she hums, pressing her hands against my chest. “Cayden…” She pushes more forcefully.

  And that’s my cue to stop.

  I drop my hands and step back. Falling into the depths of her eyes, my shoulders heave. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  She shakes her head, pulling in a lungful of air. “No, not at all.”

  Even though she’s smiling, there’s an unsure, almost skittish quality to her features. Great, Sinclair, you’re batting a thousand. Way to scare her. Again.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe out. “I got a little carried away.”

  “You’re not the only one,” she sighs, putting her hand on my arm. “Don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. I haven’t been kissed like that in a long time. It was nice.” The anxiety that clouded her face a second ago subsides, replaced by the easygoing playfulness that she’s exuded all day long.

  “Are you sure?” Worry stabs my gut. I don’t want to screw things up with her. I know it’s selfish—there are so many reasons why I shouldn’t pursue a relationship right now—but she makes me want more than just a career, more than being alone at night. I don’t know Ren yet, but the promise of getting to know her negates all my reservations.

  Ribbons of sunlight fall over her face as it filters down through the trees. It takes all my restraint not to run my fingers over her cheekbones. I’m already addicted to touching her, craving the high her contact brings. “Positive,” she reassures.

  Nodding, I take her hand and she gives them an easy swing.

  “Okay.” Lifting my belongings off the ground, I make a point to save this location as a waypoint in my GPS. My dad was a hopeless romantic when it came to my mom, and I learned from the best. I save the coordinates of our first kiss, triangulated to this very point on earth, forever, because I don’t ever want to forget.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ren

  I grip the sides of the GPS and spin around. The arrow on the screen follows suit. “I don’t know which way to go. It says this way.” I point to a path overrun by a sticker bush with adamantium thorns that could easily be confused with Wolverine’s claws. I look like the resident bad-boy of the X-men ravished me.

  “I led us that way and there’s nothing there.” Frustration bleeds into my voice. I hope he doesn’t think I’m not having fun, because I am; this is the best first date I have ever been on, Cayden hit the ball out of the park with this idea. And whoa, that kiss…that was Noah and Allie–level hot. I hadn’t intended to slam on the brakes when things were getting good, but my self- protective mode kicked in, as it always does.

  “Here, let me see.” He holds out his hand for the device and I plop it down with a huff. Cayden turns slowly, letting the arrow get back on course. He points. “That way.”

  “We just came from that direction,” I sigh. “I suck at this.”

  “Nah, you’re doing great for your first time. Not all caches are hidden in such difficult terrain.”

  In three wide steps, Cayden leaps over the adamantium thornbush and scales the incline on the other side. Show off. Unlike me, he’s in top physical condition (a condition I wouldn’t mind having the pleasure of exploring someday). The thirty minutes I put in on my treadmill every now and then have not equipped me for leaping large bushes in a single bound.

  “Ren, get a running start, jump over the bush, and reach for my hand. I’ll pull you up,” Cayden shouts from the top of the hill on the other side of the path.

  He doesn’t know it yet, but I give the best side-eye in the state, just ask my little brother. Every time Griffin asks to borrow my car, I get a little closer to side-eye perfection. “Yeah, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You can do it,” Cayden cheers. He’s enjoying every minute of this.

  I take five giant steps backward. One of two things is going to happen: I c
lear the bush and make it up the steep hill unscathed, or I end up with thorns up my ass and Cayden has to pluck them out. I can see the headlines now: Nurse Attempts Death-Defying Leap Over Rare Adamantium Bush. Nurse’s Ass Impaled by Wolverine Claw–Like Thorns. Would-be Boyfriend Forced to Perform Radical Thornectomy—There Won’t Be a Second Date.

  With a deep breath, I take off down my crude runway, closing in on the bush. One. Two. Three. I clench my eyes shut, hold my breath, and jump.

  Before my feet even hit the ground, a strong hand latches on to my left forearm and hauls me up in one swift motion. I exhale and feel muscled arms around my waist, gently lowering me to the ground. When I open my eyes, Cayden’s beaming face is all I see.

  “You made it.” His voice rumbles low, and I feel the vibrations against my chest.

  I’m glad he’s holding me, because the bones in my legs just disintegrated. “Nice catch,” I gasp, still out of breath from jumping that damn bush.

  “I’ll catch you any day.” He winks, holding me tighter against his body.

  Okay, bones in legs, gone. Lady parts, melted. Cayden Sinclair’s superpower is reducing me to a quivering mass of goo. “Where do we go from here?” I ask, trying to compose myself.

  “Oh, I’ve got some ideas.” One of his eyebrows darts up.

  I start to feel my legs again. Slapping his arm I pull back, but don’t break out of his hold (I’m not that stupid). “I’m beginning to think the whole ‘men think about sex every seven seconds’ myth has some truth behind it,” I tease, feeling more comfortable with him.

  “Only if they’re with the right woman. Then it’s probably every five.”

  “Oh my God!” I take a step backward and laugh.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. Now that I’ve kissed you, my mind is thoroughly in the gutter.”

  My breath hitches and my heart skips a beat. I really like him and he’s so friggin’ sexy, he’s got me thinking about sex every five seconds. But, how far will he be willing to take our relationship when he finds out that I’m all he’ll ever have—no kids, no family, just me.