“I know how to fold things. I was in the army.”
“And I work with trains every day. Is there anything else in the trunk? Show me while I’m folding the gown.”
“That’s pretty much it. The only other item is a man’s shaving kit.” He showed her the razor, brush, cup, and strop, then tucked them back away before helping her return the wedding gown to the trunk.
“I can’t believe you’ve just left these treasures here,” she said.
“Maybe I’ll have the trunk moved now that it’s served my purposes.”
“Purposes?”
“Lured you up to show you my proverbial etchings, didn’t I?”
Her mouth lifted in a crooked grin. “Lured? Browbeat me is more to the truth.”
Gillian was digging in her backpack when he slipped the watch chain and hair combs into his own. He didn’t do it because he was suddenly worried about Enchanted Canyon tourists stumbling across this hidden cave and stealing from the chest. He did it because he was going to hang his gold watch from this chain and mark the occasion. Then, after dinner when he took her home and kissed her good night on her front porch, he’d gift her with the combs. Not as a bribe to be invited inside. It was way too soon for that.
He hadn’t sent her flowers or bought her chocolates. The combs would be his Valentine’s Day gift to her. With any luck, they’d be the first of many Valentine’s Day gifts he would give to her.
Strategic planning. Tactical moves. Operation Horny Toad, full speed ahead.
Chapter Eleven
In the minutes following the kiss, Gillian’s four years of high school drama class paid off. Outwardly, she remained calm, cool, and collected. Inside, she was an emotional gob of goo. Tucker had kissed her again. She’d kissed him back. And enjoyed it. A lot.
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Stop. This was trouble. She wasn’t ready for this.
As they retraced their steps heading back toward Tucker’s truck, Gillian ignored all the bounties of nature that she’d noticed on the way in. This time, she didn’t hear the sound of the distant waterfall or smell the musty scent of decay as they traversed the wooded section of the trail. She barely took note of the tree roots crisscrossing their path, which required stepping over, and certainly didn’t notice the dapple of sunlight and shadow on the forest floor. She was totally lost in thought.
She’d been ready for his mild flirtations and over-the-top compliments. They’d been balm for her wounded heart, and she’d done nothing to shut them down. Were she honest with herself, she would admit she’d encouraged them. But this kiss? This kiss had been way more than mild flirtation or roadside impulse. This kiss from Tucker had blindsided her. It had been ten thousand watts of raw energy that knocked her new hiking boots off and heated her blood and recharged nerves that had been dead since the breakup. Shoot, even before the breakup.
Had Jeremy’s kiss ever jolted her this way? If so, it was too long ago to remember.
That truth unsettled her and distracted her. Inattentive to the trail, when her new boot skidded on loose gravel of a rockslide during a section that climbed along the canyon wall, her reaction was sluggish. The next few seconds passed as if in slow motion, though it happened very fast.
“Nyah!” she exclaimed when she lost her balance and knew she was going down. In her peripheral vision, she saw Tucker whip his head around in alarm.
Thud. Pain jarred her shoulder and hip as she landed on her side and rolled and slid downhill until a dusty, windswept pile of brittle leaves slowed her momentum and pillowed her crash into a boulder. “Oomph.”
“Gillian!” Tucker scrambled sure-footed down the hill.
She sat up, sneezed twice, and was attempting to stand when he reached her and steadied her with his hands around her waist. “Hold still, honey. Are you hurt? What hurts?”
“My pride.” She found her footing and balance.
“Anything else?” His gaze skimmed over her. “Ankle? Arm? Shoulder?”
She wanted to massage her butt, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. She pushed his hands away. “No, seriously. I’m fine.”
“What happened?”
She wasn’t about to explain her inattention either. With a bit of snippy in her voice, she said, “The greenhorn in me surfaced. I told you I don’t do the outdoors.”
His lips twitched. “Well, yeah, it does appear that the outdoors got the better of you.” He flicked some leaves out of her hair, then thumbed dirt off her cheek. “You’re a mess. You’ve scratched yourself.”
Then, instead of dropping his hand, he sank his fingers into her hair, cupped the back of her head, and tenderly kissed her cheek. “Better?”
Her mouth had gone as dry as the leaves at her feet. “Mmm.”
“Good,” he murmured against her face before his lips trailed butterfly kisses across her cheek to her mouth.
Trouble. I am in so much trouble.
Her knees turned to mush, and she swayed a bit and came close to losing her balance again. Tucker’s hand returned to her waist and steadied her. The one buried in her hair slid down to her shoulder. He released her lips and lifted his head. “Just so you know, anytime you need someone to kiss your boo-boos, I’m available.”
A dozen different protests twirled on her tongue, but the one most insistent made it onto her lips. “A month ago, my wedding day was two days away.”
“Scrambled your brains, did you? Did you hit your head on the boulder? Or is it my kiss that does it to you? I like that answer better.”
“You can’t be kissing me like this. It isn’t right.”
He frowned at her. “Why not? Your wedding day isn’t two days away now, is it?”
“Yes. Well, no. But yes.”
“Seriously, did you bump your head?”
“No! Well, maybe a little bit, but not enough to scramble my brains. You did that all by yourself.”
“Well, then.” Pleased, he tipped his imaginative hat. “Thank ya, ma’am.”
“Oh!” she snapped in embarrassment and frustration, then pushed past him and started back up the incline toward the trail. Once there, she began to lead the way.
A few seconds later, Tucker called, “Gillian? You’re going the wrong way. The trail to the canyon floor takes an upward jag right here for a short distance.”
She stopped and grumbled, “I knew I should have gone for a pedicure instead of a hike.”
“So, you like to have your toes played with? I’ll have to file that piece of intel away for future reference.”
A whip of wintery wind swept over the landscape as she looked at him and fisted her hands at her hips. “Would you stop harassing me, please?”
“Harassing? Whoa.” All signs of teasing disappeared as Tucker held up his hands, palms out. “Did I cross a line, Gillian? If so, I apologize. Sincerely. I guess I read your signals wrong. I thought this was a mutual flirtation that you were enjoying.”
Shame washed over her. “It is. That’s the problem.”
She kicked at a stone with the toe of her boot and attempted to explain. “Tucker, it’s too soon. My breakup was less than a month ago. For me to be this into you … what does that say about me? About my judgment? Was I wrong about what I felt for him? If not, then how can I be so fickle and enjoy you so much this soon? If I was wrong about my feelings, then how can I trust myself about anything? Especially men? I was going to marry him! The day after tomorrow!”