Chaos Theory (Nerds of Paradise #2)(36)



Will grunted, then went back to puzzling over the map.

“I could read this aloud, if you’re bored,” she said, barely able to keep the mischief out of her voice.

“What’s the title?” Will asked.

Melody looked at the front. “Passion’s Prisoner.”

Will snorted. “I’ll pass.”

Again, Melody had the feeling he was blushing. He couldn’t be that squeamish about romance.

Then again, maybe he was.

The thought sent her into a low fit of giggles that made it impossible to concentrate on the book. Part of her hoped that Will would ask what was so funny, but true to form, he kept his mouth shut. If he kept that sort of thing up, it was going to be an interesting couple of days.





Chapter Ten





Will awoke in the morning after a mediocre night of sleep with aches in his back and neck from sleeping on the hard ground. On top of that, he was chilled to the bone, in spite of the fancy sleeping bag. Melody had been right about how cold it would get. Although, oddly enough, he didn’t feel the same crushing sense of failure that usually hit him when someone proved him wrong. Possibly because deep in his gut, Will knew Melody wouldn’t hold it against him. She’d go right on liking him anyhow. Although heaven only knew why.

That was the other odd thing about waking with a layer of frost over their tiny camp, muscles screaming. He was content. No, more than that. He crawled out of his sleeping bag and loaded the last of the wood they’d collected the night before onto the banked embers of the fire. A little effort, and he had it flaring again. It wasn’t warm, but the sense of accomplishment that something as small as restarting a fire left him with fired a pile of banked embers inside of him. The sun had spread its peach and gold rays over the tops of the eastern mountains, coral-tipped clouds battled the blue above for control of the sky, and birdsong filled the air.

Will took a deep breath, letting his shoulders relax and his mouth tilt up into a smile as he walked away from the camp to find an obliging tree so he could take care of business. By all measures, he should have seen the harshness of nature as something to be fought against and tamed. He should be thinking of the challenges of the trek ahead of them that day as obstacles to be conquered and discomforts to be endured for the sake of excellence.

No, by his father’s measures that’s how he should see things. But instead, the memory of the way Melody had smiled and glanced around them in wonder when they’d reached the top of the ridge the day before filled him from head to toe.

With the call of nature answered, Will headed back to camp. Melody was just stirring, stretching and groaning as she woke. A jolt of longing hit Will hard. He warned himself to ignore it, told himself it was just lust, and that it would pass once they started moving again. But the pull that had him moving to the fire first to refill their kettle from the last of their bottled water and setting it over the fire was much stronger than the logic that said he should be studying the map. Melody would want something warm to drink as soon as possible.

“Ugh.” She struggled to sit up, rolling her shoulder and using her other hand to work out a knot. “Did someone add more rocks to the ground while I was sleeping?”

“It felt like it,” he answered. Once the kettle was nestled in the embers, he started packing up his sleeping bag and pad.

“Why, William Darling,” Melody giggled, the sound of nylon swishing indicating she was climbing out of her bag. “Are you actually agreeing with me?”

Will glanced briefly at her over his shoulder. She’d stood, and was shaking out her impossibly curly hair. Rumpled, creased, and worn, she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. “I don’t always disagree with you.” As soon as he felt his face heat, he focused on squeezing his sleeping back into as tight a roll as possible. “I agree with you on a lot of things.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

He was determined not to look at her, but from her tone of voice he could imagine her with her hip cocked to one side in that sassy pose of hers. Her mouth was likely inching its way to a grin, and her eyes were probably as blue and dazzling as the sky above.

“I think it’s beautiful out here,” he said, trying to fake a casual shrug.

“Mmm,” she hummed. The sound of her moving to her pack and unzipping a pocket followed. “Okay, I’ll give you that. I’m just going to step into the little girl’s room.”

He listened to her footfalls in the undergrowth, keeping track of her, even though he was too much of a gentleman to go staring after her as she relieved herself. It didn’t take him long to finish with his sleeping bag and pad, and to pack up the rest of what he was done with for the day. He contemplated rolling up her things for her, but opted for a less controversial way to help her.

“So is that the oatmeal?” she asked when she wandered back through the trees to the campfire a few minutes later. Her face had a freshly scrubbed look, and she’d combed her hair and put it back in a braid. She returned a small, slightly damp cloth, a water bottle that was still mostly filled, and a comb to her backpack before heading over to join him at the fire.

“It will be once the water is finished boiling,” he answered, trying not to stare at her.

“Ooh, I can’t wait.” She sat next to him, giving off a feeling of grace in spite of her serviceable khakis. “So what can I do to help, Darling?”

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