Should've Said No (17 page)

“That’s a sweet story,” he said.

Lindsey smiled, thankful for her parents and all they had done for her. “It definitely has a happily ever after.”

He pulled her to him and kissed her softly, giving her other ideas of happily ever after. “Thank you for a delicious picnic. It was perfect—as long as talking about the Karlssons doesn’t give me heartburn.” He pinched the bill of her cap between his fingers and pulled it down over her eyes.

She flipped it back up, grinning despite what he’d said. She had to play along—
or admit the truth
. But she needed more information before she could do that…if she ever could. “We still have dessert,” she said.

“Let’s save it for the next stop.”

“Where’s the next stop?” she asked, excited he’d planned even more for their date.

“Right there.” He pointed to the peak on the right side of the panorama, not too far from them.

“What’s over there?”

He took the last swallow of his wine. “A surprise.”

“Hmm…Do I get a hint?”

He leaned in close and whispered, “Royal blue.” His warm breath against her ear sent tingles swirling through her.

She tipped her head to the side as he kissed his way down her neck, stopping at the collar of her fleece pullover. “That’s it?”

Carden pulled back, eyebrows raised. He swept his fingers beneath her chin and turned her face to him, his lips just inches from hers. “You want more?”

Lindsey met his gaze. “Yes,” she said in a breathy voice. “Royal blue is just not enough.” She cupped his scruffy face in her hands and kissed him softly, yielding to his velvety tongue, sweet with the taste of wine. Twining his fingers through her ponytail, he cradled the back of her head, seducing her nearly senseless with a single kiss—on a mountainside covered in wildflowers, under the summer sun and an endless sky.

This was paradise.

He pulled back, yet stayed dangerously close. “That’s all I can give you right now.” He grinned mischievously.

“Guess I’ll have to be patient.” She combed her fingers through his hair, swept them behind his ear, and tugged on his earlobe.

“I guarantee it’ll be worth it.”

Lindsey had no doubt about that.

“But I have to warn you,” he said, his eyes glinting. “The ride’s going to get really bumpy.”

Chapter 17

Carden pushed the Jeep to its limits, exhilarated by the challenging terrain, and eager to impress Lindsey. He loved how she pinched her eyes closed before the blind curves. How she yelped with delight when they splashed through running streams, and how she reached over to squeeze his thigh at the top of steep inclines. She just fit with him—up here four-wheeling in the outback, in town scraping paint at her cabin, in his workshop kissing him in the moonlight…

He’d gotten ahead of himself that night. Now he was trying to take things slow and easy. If he was lucky, they’d have plenty of sexy times together in the moonlight, or simply just together—

Good God, man.

Carden hardly recognized his own thoughts. He was nearly as pathetic as Travis with his wedding-day-countdown calendar—but he’d never let Travis know that.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, preparing to maneuver the Jeep down a narrow, roller-coaster-worthy, rocks-and-pits incline. Forget about the steep drop-off on Lindsey’s side all the way down, and the blind curve at the bottom. This was the most dangerous stretch of the trail. Taking it would save them a couple hours driving time compared to going the more common route, and even that route had its treachery.

Lindsey had gone wide-eyed, looking truly terrified.

He stopped the Jeep, and smoothed his fingers from her shoulder to her elbow. “It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

She nodded hesitantly. “The flowers look pretty,” she said about the dense patches of silvery-blue lupine lining the edge of the incline, framing the stunning view beyond. Just like Lindsey to focus on the bright side.

Carden put the Jeep in park, got out, and picked a handful of various wildflowers. He got back in, handed her the bouquet, and kissed her cheek.

“Aw,” she said.

He winked and tugged on her seatbelt, making sure it was secure. He’d waited long enough for a girl like her to come along. No way was he losing her over the side of a mountain.

“Hold on tight.” His pulse raced as he put the Jeep in gear and started down the narrow incline, adrenaline running high.

Lindsey had one white-knuckled fist around the stems of the flowers. Her other hand gripped his thigh with astonishing strength. He wouldn’t be surprised to see five fingerprint-sized bruises there tonight when he took off his jeans.

The Jeep bounced over the first tier of rocks, Carden accelerating just enough to get them over, then hitting the brakes to keep them from pitching forward too far.
And over the edge.
He glanced at Lindsey, certain she hadn’t blinked since they started. His stomach seesawed. Surely hers was doing the same.

Carden guided the Jeep over another set of boulders. It lurched and rocked, engine revving. A large boulder slipped from beneath a back tire and the Jeep lumbered forward. He pounded the brakes, straight-legged, but the Jeep skidded toward the edge. His heart hammered. He jerked the wheel hard left, praying the back wouldn’t skid around.

And we’ll roll over.

Teeth clenched, he kept a death grip on the wheel until the Jeep slid to a stop just inches from the ledge, its front and rear passenger-side wheels nestled in wildflowers up to their rims. If Lindsey dared glance to her side, she’d be looking straight down at one hell of a drop-off.

She covered her mouth with her hands, her big eyes blinking in disbelief, flowers left in her lap.

Carden raked his fingers through his hair and clasped them at the back of his head, pressing hard. Working to steady his breath, he reached over and pulled Lindsey as close as he could, considering the seatbelts, and kissed the top of her head. He peered down at the dizzying drop-off, trying not to think about what might’ve happened to her—to both of them. “You okay?”

She clutched his hand, met his eyes, and gave him a small, shaky smile. “When you promise an adventure, you mean it.” She skimmed her fingers over the tops of the blooms nestled by the footboard next to her seat. “So this was your plan to get me up close and personal with the wildflowers?”

Carden couldn’t believe how calm she was acting, but he could see it was just that—an act. Her hand trembled in his. He could relate. His pulse was still firing on all cylinders, his system in overdrive. He glanced behind them at the large pit in the trail where the boulder had slipped. The boulder was propped sideways next to it, looking precariously loose. “We’ll go back the long way.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He put the Jeep in gear and pulled back onto the trail, creeping down toward the blind curve. Once they were around it safely, he exhaled. He did a quick check on Lindsey and she nodded, clutching the flowers, some of the tension seeming to have gone out of her shoulders.

The rest of the way was smooth compared to the path they’d already traversed. They approached a familiar cutoff flanked by two posts and a metal-bar gate that stood open next to a rustic, wood-burned sign.

Azzuro Star Mine.

“We’re going to a mine?” Lindsey asked, her eyes dancing with excitement.

Carden preferred that to the fear he’d seen in them earlier. He’d finally recovered enough to manage a smile. “Not just any mine,” he said proudly. He turned between the posts and headed up the path, the terrain mostly dirt and stone, with a random burst of wildflowers amid the stark landscape. The Jeep rumbled over the base of a scree field, a landscape of loose rocks left behind by a landslide.

They passed a collection of buildings—a small administration hut, several garages, and a warehouse with a few pickups and work vehicles parked outside. Beyond were several weathered cabins similar to Lindsey’s place in Thistle Bend, only somewhat newer.

“People live up here?” she asked.

“Until the weather chases them away. We’re at about thirteen-thousand feet. Snow buries this place in the winter.”

“Whoa.” She scrunched her face. “Talk about remote.”

Farther up the path, they passed the heavy equipment—giant backhoes and earthmovers, idle since it was Saturday. A familiar thrill stirred in Carden as the massive seam in the mountain came into view, boulders and rocks of varying sizes piled along its edges, glistening in the late afternoon sun. He loved this mine, and couldn’t wait to show it to Lindsey. Couldn’t wait to see if she would like it, too.

Carden stopped the Jeep near the base of the giant seam that climbed up the rocky mountainside like a jagged open zipper. He made his way around to Lindsey’s side of the Jeep, and helped her out. Waving his arm toward the mine he said, “The source of some of the best lapis lazuli in the world.”

Lindsey gazed at it, squinting, lips parted. “No way.”

“Want to go up?”

Her eyes glimmered, and an excited, little-girl smile stretched across her face. “Can we?”

Carden’s heart soared. “As long as you bring dessert.”

She reached in the Jeep and into the top of her tote, pulling out a floral-paper-wrapped package with a bright green bow—definitely from the basket the Montgomery sisters had given her.

Sweet.

Carden grabbed his backpack. “How about I put those in here so your hands will be free for climbing?” She handed him the package and he slipped it into his backpack along with a blanket. “I’ll go up in front of you,” he said. “Check for loose rocks.” He put on the backpack, tightened the straps, and took her hand.

“Hopefully we’ve had our quota of those for the day,” she said lightly.

They followed a dirt trail that dead-ended quickly and Carden climbed onto the first rock in their path. The mountain rose at about a thirty-degree angle as far as he hoped to go—a relatively easy climb, depending on how the rocks were stacked. He headed up, with Lindsey close behind. A few spots required hands and feet to negotiate, the rocks’ surfaces warm and sandpapery beneath his touch. He took his time and checked on Lindsey often, the scare of the Jeep incident still fresh in his mind.

As the terrain began to steepen, Carden reached a large, flat boulder, ideal for them to relax on. He turned and gave Lindsey a hand, helping her onto the boulder. “How about here?”

She took in the awesome view, but his was even better—360 degrees of Lindsey in snug jeans, turning in front of him. “This is completely off the charts.”

Happy she was pleased, he slipped the backpack off, unzipped it, and handed her the blanket. Lindsey spread it out on the boulder and they sat, their feet dangling over the edge. The drop-off was nothing compared to the one they’d flirted with on the Jeep trail, but it wasn’t one they’d jump from either. He pulled out the wrapped dessert package, certain there was something delicious inside.

“I get the royal blue thing now,” Lindsey said as he handed her the package. “Lapis lazuli is the gemstone that gave royal blue its name. In ancient times”—she shrugged—“and until recently, in the scheme of things—it was so scarce and valuable that only royalty could afford it.” She lifted her chin proudly. “They’ve even found beads of lapis dating back to the 7th millennium B.C.”

Carden raised his eyebrows—Lindsey knew more than a little about lapis. “The eyebrows on King Tut’s funeral mask were made of lapis—another cool historic fact.”

Lindsey bunched her lips. “Cleopatra used powdered lapis for eye shadow.” She gave him a look that challenged him to one-up her.

He tipped his head back and laughed. “You had to hit me with Cleopatra and the eye shadow.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “I gave you a break. I could’ve gone on about the lapis eyes of the twenty-fifth-century B.C. statue of Ebih-II, or the ultramarine paint pigment made from ground lapis during the Renaissance—usually reserved for painting robes of angels or the Virgin Mary.” She turned her hands palms up. “But the eye shadow seemed more relatable.”

Carden stared at her. “Who’s the SparkNotes expert now?”

She bowed her head shyly. “We had lapis at the Smithsonian.” Her tone had gone from playful to sad. She untied the bow on the package and opened the floral paper, revealing some incredible-looking cookies. The scent of cinnamon rose in the air.

“You miss it?” he asked. She’d attributed the tears he’d seen in her eyes yesterday to missing home and feeling lonesome. He couldn’t even imagine going from working in D.C. at the Smithsonian to starting from scratch in Thistle Bend. Had he not seen her tears, he would’ve sworn she was happy with the change. She always seemed so upbeat and positive.

“I do,” she said softly as she turned over the wrapping paper and read the scrolling script on the label. “Oatmeal with spiced rum raisins.” She handed him a fat cookie, but didn’t look at him. “But I had a whole year of being laid off to miss it before I got here.” She stared out at the horizon. “I applied for museum jobs at my level all over the place. Even went to a museum a couple times a week just to feel connected. But there were no jobs out there that fit my skill set.” She smiled ruefully and gestured toward the tiny grid of a town in the valley about four-thousand feet below. “Except in Thistle Bend.”

Carden sat silent for a moment, taking in what she had said, trying to relate. As if starting a museum from scratch wasn’t difficult enough, she had the pressure of deciding how to present the disputed land deal. The Karlssons were trying to influence her, sending her mail before she even arrived, and inviting her to dinner at The Canary. The Crenshaws had to try too, but Carden hated to add to her stress. He was relieved she’d led him right to the subject of the land deal during their picnic. Now he could honestly tell Gran he’d addressed it, and he wouldn’t come across to Lindsey as having ulterior motives. He wanted things between them to be about him and her, not about a family feud she wasn’t even a part of.

Carden put his arm around her and pulled her to him. “I’m sorry you’re struggling with the change.” He kissed her ear and whispered, “But I’m so damn glad you’re here.”