“I know.”
“So…” Shea drew the word out as she tapped on her lips with a finger. “You’re going to do the thing I’ve been saying you should do for weeks now. Would that mean that I’m right? Would you say that?”
Cherry couldn’t help but grin, even though she tried to stifle it. She could feel the corners of her mouth turning up without her permission. “Yes, that’s what it would mean.”
“I think you should say it, though. Just to be clear.”
A sigh. Still grinning, but a definite sigh. “Fine. You were right.”
“Again, please. But say it slower this time. And like you mean it.”
Cherry laughed openly now. “Fine.” She leaned close to Shea. “You. Were. Right.” Then she kissed her cheek with a loud smack.
“Music to my ears, those words. Absolute music to my ears.” As Cherry left the room, she said louder, “You should say them more often, you know.”
“Then be right more often,” Cherry called back. And she glanced at the clock and her heart rate kicked up about twenty-seven notches because it was time.It was time.
“You’re gonna be fine.” Shea was next to her again, maybe sensing her worry. Maybe seeing her hands tremoring from across the apartment. Whatever it was, Cherry was happy to have her close again. “This is the right thing to do. Just be honest with her, and everything will be okay. Yeah?”
Cherry nodded, inhaled through her nose and blew it out through her mouth, and shook her arms out like a boxer getting ready to step into the ring.
“You got this, baby.” Shea kissed her cheek. “Now go.”
Twenty minutes later, her car slid to a stop in a parking spot at Tykeman Park. The entrance to the trails lay directly in front of her bumper, a sort of doorway into the woods that she knew would open onto a lovely nature walk the farther in she went. It was the end of April, and the weather was proof of that. Sunny and bright, peeks of early spring flowers giving the landscape little pops of color. The parking lot was next to an open field, and while it was mostly a lush green on that day, Cherry knew it would burst into color in another month or so, filled with summer wildflowers to attract the butterflies and the bumblebees. She smiled at a couple who exited the woods with their yellow Lab. Two cars over, a man was folding up a complicated-looking stroller while the woman with him held a sleeping toddler. When the woman turned so her back was to Cherry, the child’s face was visible on her shoulder—blond ringlets and full lips, puckered in sleep, arm dangling loosely—and there was something about the beauty and the trust that sent a warm flush through her.
Of course, that warm flush was nothing compared to what her body did when Ellis’s car slowed to a stop next to hers. Flush was an understatement. So was warm. Because there was nothing warm about how she felt when Ellis’s sunglassed face turned and she felt the eye contact without even being able to see her eyes. It was heat. All heat. Very, very hot heat. Searing heat. Like fire. Like lava.
“Jesus,” she muttered under her breath as Ellis got out of the car, shoved her sunglasses up onto her head, and smiled at her.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey yourself.” Did her grin make her look ridiculous? Yeah, she was pretty sure it did. Oh my God, what was happening to her?
“I am so ready for this,” Ellis said, bending back down into her car and coming up with a water bottle and a lightweight nylon jacket. “I love being out in nature, but I never take the time to actually be out in nature.” She came around the back of her car, and Cherry took in her tan shorts and navy-blue long-sleeve T-shirt. Ellis shrugged into a hoodie, which was also navy blue, and it took everything in Cherry’s power not to stare at those legs. They were right there. On display. For looking at. And she felt like her brain and her eyes were literally in a battle. For a split second, her eyes won and she glanced down, then back up. Right at Ellis’s eyes, which sparkled with knowing. Their gazes held for abeat as Cherry wondered if Ellis wore shorts on purpose, knowing what Cherry had said about her legs. And then Ellis fiddled with her water bottle as she asked, “Is there a plan? A specific trail you want to take?”
Okay. Good. Facts. She could deal in facts. That would help her focus her brain on something other than the gloriously female body in front of her and how badly she wanted to undress it. “Yeah, I thought we’d stay fairly flat. I’m breaking in these shoes.”
“Those are amazing,” Ellis said, looking down at the hikers. “These are, like, ten years old.” She kicked up a foot to show Cherry her own hikers, but all Cherry saw was leg. Calf. Skin.
“Ready?” She had to move. Had to get walking or there was a very distinct possibility she’d throw Ellis up against the car and kiss her into next week. She made herself smile and hoped it wasn’t creepy. Ellis didn’t need to think she was following a potential serial killer into the woods.
“I’ve been ready for this all week,” Ellis said, catching up to her and then bumping her with a shoulder.
And just like that, it felt better. Cherry felt herself relax, her shoulders drop, her hands unclench—she hadn’t even realized she’d fisted them—and her head cleared. Just like that. And again, she wondered how Ellis did that. How did she just…settle things for Cherry? She wanted to ask, but the words stayed in her head. Probably a good thing for now.
They headed through the opening that led them into the woods. It was immediately chilly, as they’d left the sun behind for the moment, and Cherry stopped to zip up her puffy vest halfway, wishing she’d thought to bring something warmer to cover her arms.
“Cold?” Ellis stopped next to her and rubbed a hand up and down her arm. Then, as if she wanted to do so before she had a chance to think twice, she leaned forward and kissed Cherry’s lips softly. Her smile was shy, and her cheeks had turned slightly pink. “I’ve wanted to do that since I pulled in and saw you standing there. I hope that’s okay.” Her nose wrinkled adorably.
“Totally okay.”
They walked for several minutes in silence, but with occasional looks to each other. Looks that were filled with heat and possibility and promise. One thought echoed through Cherry’s head on repeat.
How am I going to survive this hike?
* * *
Was Cherry trying to kill her?
