Tucker almost kissed her just to silence her.
However, that wasn’t how he’d imagined their next kiss, and he’d imagined it for weeks now. Almost daily. That didn’t include the dreams he had at night.
Now that she was single, another kiss was going to happen. A real kiss this time. Nothing friendly about it. It would happen soon, but not too soon. Tucker needed to be strategic in his planning, and sure of his actions before he took them.
He wanted to get to know Gillian better. He knew she loved her friends and family and bright nail polish and her little mop of a dog. He knew she was hurting over the breakup, and that her wedding was supposed to have been this coming Saturday. Too bad, so sad, on that one. A better man would be more sympathetic to that particular pain, but Tucker was who he was, and he was damned happy that Mr. Wedgefoot was out of the picture.
Now, Tucker wanted to learn her politics and her prejudices, her passions and her purposes. He wanted to know what her favorite foods were, and which she detested and why. He wanted to discover what sports she enjoyed, what books she read, if she binge-watched TV, and if so, which shows?
It went without saying that he wanted to know what she liked in bed.
Tucker wanted to know if Gillian could be his future, and he aimed to find out. Strategic planning and tactical execution with defined mission goals—he knew how to do this. He’d spent his career doing this.
He should have a campaign name.
His mouth twisted in a crooked grin at the thought. He liked the idea. He could go with something appropriate like Operation Smoke Show. Or Operation Glory Gams. No, hmm, maybe—
Movement on the trail in front of him caught his attention. He held up a hand, signaling for Gillian to stop. He wanted her to see this.
“What is it?” she asked.
Quietly, he said, “Shush. At your two. Sunning atop the rock. Haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”
“Oh. A horny toad!” Then she surprised him by adding, “I used to love to play with them.”
That effectively deflected his interest in the lizard, technically called a horned frog, rather than the common nickname Gillian had just used. Tucker gawked at her. “Wait a minute. You played with them? Queen of the girly girls?”
She nodded. “I did. They looked so ugly, but they didn’t bite or scratch or sting. They didn’t even stick you with their horns if you were careful. There used to be hundreds of them on vacant lots in my neighborhood.”
“Wow. This is a new side of you I haven’t seen before, and one I never guessed existed.”
“I was a tomboy in elementary school.”
“What happened?”
“Not what.” Her eyes sparkled. “Who. Travis Warren. He was the pitcher on my brother’s little league team. I fell head over heels, but he only had eyes for Gayle Simpson. She wore lipstick.”
“The hussy.”
Gillian flashed a smile he hadn’t seen of late, bright as a comet. It warmed him from within.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw a horned frog,” she said. “What has happened to them?”
“I’m not sure. I think I recall an article blaming fire ants.”
Gillian grimaced. “Fire ants are evil.”
“Won’t argue with you about that.” Tucker pulled his gaze away from her and looked to see if the lizard had scampered away. Nope. Still there. “Did you ever see one puff way up and shoot blood from his eyes? It’s a defense mechanism.”
She pursed her lips. Damn, Tucker wanted to kiss them. “I remember the puffing up. I don’t recall eye blood.” She let out a little laugh and added, “We used to name them. My favorite was Zeus. I remember I used to turn him over and rub his belly until he went to sleep.”
That’s it, Tucker thought. He had his campaign name. “Hey, Gillian?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t you think I look like a Greek god?”
She laughed out loud and scared the horny toad away. One of them, anyway.
Tucker whistled beneath his breath as he led her the rest of the way to the cave. At its entrance, anticipating her protest, he reached for his flashlight as he said, “Here we are.”
“Um … okay. Where is here?”
“Look closely. The entrance is hidden. I imagine that’s the main reason why the stuff inside has remained so well-preserved.” He switched on the light and pointed it toward the shadows. “See it now?”
“A cave. It’s a cave?”
“Yeah. You ready to do some spelunking?”
“In a cave?”
“Well, that is where one goes spelunking. Although, to be honest, I don’t know if this one actually qualifies for the activity. No tunnels to crawl through. Once you get through the entrance, it’s a pretty large cave, about the size of our classroom at the shop.”
“I told you I don’t do the outdoors. Why in the world would you think I’d want to go inside a cave?”
“Because there is treasure inside.”
She gave him a sharp look, curiosity gleaming in her big blue eyes. “What sort of treasure?”
“Something right up your alley.” He said no more after that, deciding to wait her out.
Eventually, she grumbled, “My mother started warning me about men like you when I was ten years old.”
“Men like me?” he repeated, protest in his voice. “What do you mean, men like me?”
“Men who try to lure women into places they know they shouldn’t go.”
Tucker snorted. “It’s a cave, not an opium den.”
“Well, it’s probably something’s den, and that something hasn’t invited me inside. It’s rude to be an uninvited guest.”
“The McBrides own the canyon and the cave. I’m a McBride. I’m inviting you inside.”
“You’re the landlord. What about the tenant?”
“I didn’t take you for a scaredy-cat.”
“Meow.”
He laughed. “Okay. How about I go in first and make sure we’re not currently occupied?”
“But—”
“Be bold, Gillian. Trust me. You’ll be glad you did.”
She folded her arms and tapped her foot, but her gaze had focused on the entrance to the cave. Partially obscured by a bushy sage, the mouth was two shoulders wide, arched at the top, and had straight sides. It was vaguely reminiscent of a church door. The shape had caught Tucker’s notice that first day when he’d discovered the cave. After finding what was inside, he figured he wasn’t the first person who had thought that.
Finally, Gillian exhaled a heavy breath. “Okay. I’ll do it. But you go in first and make sure there’s nothing inside that will bite, scratch, sting, or eat me.”
“It’s a deal.”
Tucker slid off his pack, ducked inside, and shined his light around. “No snakes, skunks, or bankers. It’s safe to come in, Gillian.”
“Snakes, skunks, and bankers? That’s the Department of Redundancy Department, McBride. So, will you promise this treasure is worth my being terrified?”
“You’re not terrified.” Tucker used the fire starter on his keychain to light the trio of lanterns he’d left on one of his previous visits. Together with the sunlight that beamed through the cave’s mouth, the candles provided sufficient light to illuminate the space. He was confident she wouldn’t notice the animal tracks—bobcat, he believed—in the thin layer of dirt atop the stone floor. She might see the bat guano above. He moved two of the lanterns closer to the knobby stone wall in order to better illuminate the veins of quartz that added sparkle to the walls. Then he leaned against the rock wall, his arms folded, and waited to enjoy Gillian’s reaction to the cave. “Come on in, Gillian. It’s safe. I promise. Prepare to be amazed.”