“I’m sorry I made you worry.”
“I’m sorry I made you wait.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was an accident. I knew you’d come back for me.”
“Of course. But I need you to promise to charge your phone the next time we’re here.”
“All right. I promise.” Then he shifted and held up the newspaper. “Do you have a pen? I’ve been doing this crossword puzzle in my head and it’s getting confusing.”
She laughed full out and hugged him, relishing the way he hugged her back.
“I’m not letting go of you again,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“I think I’m okay with that.” His voice was soft, and she strained to catch his words. Time to break the tension.
“My mother invited you to dinner.”
He exhaled, and she felt it throughout her entire body.
“Really? Because I would do just about anything for a home-cooked steak.”
She snickered. “I think bistec encebollado can be arranged. She might call you Rock, though.”
“For a steak, she can call me anything she wants.”
Ten
“Here we are. Central Park.”
Stone blinked in the bright sunlight as he followed Gina up the stairs that led out of the subway station. April in New York was warmer than April in Alaska by far, and it was a sunny day. Over the park, the sky stretched clear and blue over the tops of the budding trees. It was a poor substitute for Alaska, but it beat out the palm trees and smog of Los Angeles.
As they crossed the street to the park entrance, Gina took his hand and gave him a playful smile from under the bill of her Yankees hat. “I’m not going to chance losing you again.”
Stone was wearing a Mariners cap. When he’d selected it from the display in the souvenir shop, Gina had sent him a puzzled frown and asked, “You follow baseball?” Her question incited a panic in him, and he’d babbled out a reply. “Yeah, I mean, when I can. We’re off the grid, but not, like, on another planet. Sometimes we go into town. But not… not often.”
In truth, he rooted for the Mariners because he’d been born just outside Seattle, but that didn’t fit the Alaskan persona, so he wasn’t supposed to mention it. Gina was too perceptive, and he was a terrible liar. He’d have to do a better job of keeping his mouth shut.
Dirt and asphalt trails wound this way and that in the park, and holding Gina’s hand as they meandered down one of the trails was nice. Really nice. He shouldn’t be getting any closer to her, but more than anything right now, he wanted the distraction of human connection.
The path turned to orange bricks. Up ahead, an ornate stone railing looked out over a large round fountain with a majestic angel rising out of the center, its arms outstretched. A pigeon sat atop the angel’s head.
“Bethesda Fountain. My favorite spot in the whole park.” Slipping her sunglasses into her jacket pocket, Gina boosted herself up to sit on the edge of the railing.
Stone stared at the statue in the fountain. He’d seen this before. In movies, not in person. But he couldn’t ask Gina about it, because she gave him a suspicious look every time he commented on pop culture. “Nice.”
“My senior photo was taken here.”
“Oh yeah?” He couldn’t tell her where he’d gone to high school. The officialLiving Wildstory was that he and his siblings had all been homeschooled by their mother, but it wasn’t entirely true. He and Reed had gone to a regular public high school in Alaska.
Gina pointed to a spot to the right of the fountain. “That’s where I stood with my friends. Imagine five hundred teenagers packed into the space below, and the photographer standing right here.”
Stone moved in and slipped an arm around her waist. Sure, Gina had superior balance, but it was a long drop. This close, he filled his lungs with her tropical-sweet scent. When she turned back to face him, her lips parted, and her cheeks pinked.
Every so often, he caught her looking at him like this. Usually she turned away, but not this time. This time, her gaze dropped to his mouth and she licked her lips. His pulse beat heavy in his throat.
They were close, like they’d been in the train station when she’d thrown herself onto his lap. But there was no sense of danger now. Just desire.
She slipped her sunglasses back on and slid down from the rail, breaking the moment. “Let’s go down and see the terrace.” She took his hand again and led him down the steps.
