“I’ll buy it a pillow,” he says way too slowly.
I giggle and scoot to the end of the blanket to be near him. Placing my toes behind the heel of my other foot, I kick off my shoes, one after another. Then I peel off my socks and nudge Noah’s butt with my toes.
Noah eyes my foot then flashes a wicked grin. “Trying to tell me something, baby?”
I shrug. Maybe. “So we’ll have a front porch?”
“Wraparound.” Noah falls back to sit beside me and grabs my bare feet to put on his lap. “With a porch swing facing the west so we can watch the sunset every night.”
I blink and survey Noah as if it’s the first time I’ve seen him. He’s in the same clothes as when we left: black T-shirt, jeans, black boots. The bottom of the cross tattooed on his biceps peeks out from under his sleeve. The firelight dances across his face, and his hair hangs over his eyes. Noah’s just as beautiful as the time I sat next to him in the school’s main office all those months ago, but the words he just said—those aren’t from the boy that asked me to smoke pot with him the night of Michael Blair’s party.
Noah traces the small bones on the top of my foot, and I’m amazed how the simple touch races up my veins to private areas.
“Um.” Clear thoughts, clear thoughts. “One story? Two?”
“One and a half.” He won’t meet my eyes, and I’m okay with it. He’s permitting me into his typically guarded thoughts. “Rustic cabin style, but with all the amenities. Wide-open floor plan. Living room, large kitchen, stairs up the side that go to the loft that’ll hold our bedroom.”
“You’ve really mulled this over, haven’t you?”
Noah continues to draw his fingers along the top of my toes and stays silent. The fire cracks, and only a dim flame remains. He exhales as if he’s jumping off a cliff. “I’ve already drawn the plans.”
Noah
Echo tilts her head, and her red curls tumble over her shoulder. I love how she looks in the firelight. The flickering flames create a soft glow around her and highlight her green eyes. “You drew plans for a house for me?”
I have a hard time meeting her gaze, so I stare at the red center of the fire. “Yeah.”
“When did you do it?”
I meant to give it to her as a graduation present, but chickened out. “Few weeks ago.”
Echo’s feet rock in my lap. “That’s...”
Pathetic. Stupid.
“...the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”
My eyes snap to hers, and the peaceful smile playing on her lips is all I need. “It’s just a floor plan.”
Echo slides her feet off my lap and sits up on her knees next to me. “Do you have it with you?”
Tell her no. “Yeah.”
I shove a stick at the hot coals at the bottom of the fire, and they dissolve into white ash. A few months back, Echo drew pictures of my parents and she was desperate to stop me when I flipped the page to see what she had done. I thought she was acting stupid for trying to steal the sketch pad from me, but now I understand her anxiety.
“Can I see it?” she asks.
I toss the stick into the flames as the fire is done for the night. “It’s in my pack. Back pocket in a folder.”
Echo jumps to her feet. “Are you coming?”
“Let me put this out, and I’ll join you in a few.” Because if she hates it, I’ll notice, and that would break my fucking heart.
“I can help,” she says.
“I promised you wouldn’t do a thing.”
She angles her body in the direction of the restroom. “It’s not a big deal. I can tote some water from—”
“Gave my word, and you’re going to let me keep it.”
Echo rolls her eyes and ignores my statement as she reaches for an empty water jug. She asked for it. In a swift motion, I bend over and ease her over my shoulder. Echo squeals as her feet dangle near my chest. I unzip the netting of the tent and slip Echo in. Her curls cover her face, and the sound of her laughter soothes my weary soul.
“Stay put.”
Her laughter continues to dance over my skin. “And if I don’t?”
There’s a seductive tease in her voice that causes me to drop my head and moan. I glance over my shoulder, and Echo’s giving me that hooded look. Fuck me. “Then I’ll be forced to kiss you into compliance.”
Her eyes fall to my lips. “Good luck with that.”
Moments like this are how I learned early in the trip to keep two jugs of water nearby. Without responding, I leave the tent and pour water over the dying flames. I then kick enough dirt over it that archeologists won’t be able to find the remains. I’ve got issues with unattended fires.
Echo zips up the inside flap, which means she’s getting ready for bed. A click and the inside of the tent glows like a hot-air balloon. I strain to hear her unzip my pack, but I’ve got no clue if she’s opened it or not.