“No.” She glanced up at him with a shake of her head. “It’s just that I’ve always felt like I don’t matter, as if I mean nothing to this world. Like I’m no more significant than a grain of sand in this desert. I guess someone like you could never understand that.”
The remark irked him. “What do you mean someone like me? You seem to make a lot of assumptions about me.” That fact annoyed him even more.
“I only meant you aren’t like me,” she said. “You’re the kind of person people instantly notice. I’m usually invisible.”
“Maybe because that’s what you secretly want,” he suggested.
“Why would you think that? I’m just stating facts here. I’m not beautiful or brilliant or even funny. I have no athletic ability. I can’t read music or even carry a tune. There’s nothing special about me.” She tilted her head up to the sky, continuing wistfully. “But I want to be special. I want to matter, or at least feel like I do. That’s why I want to tell stories that matter.”
He took a moment to digest her words. “If you look to others for validation, Miranda, you look in the wrong place. They’ll never give you what you need. What you seek can come only from within.” At least that was what he told himself.
She visibly bristled, telling him he’d touched a sore spot. “Easy for you to say.”
“I speak from experience, Miranda. I know it’s true.” It was the goal he’d been working toward for months—to find the inner peace and contentment that had always eluded him. He’d left the rez at twenty with stars in his eyes, but his success in the outside world had done nothing to soothe his restlessness or fill the emptiness.
“Shouldn’t you get some sleep now?” she asked.
“I doubt I can,” he replied. “I’ll be far too worried about you alone and shivering.” The temperature had already dropped at least twenty degrees from when they’d first set out.
“I’m fine.” She jutted her chin, hugging herself tighter. “Beth loaned me her jacket.”
He studied her. She looked cold and defiant sitting on a rock near the fire, arms wrapped around herself, but like the desert cacti, he recognized her prickliness as purely a defense mechanism.
“It’s going to get a lot colder before morning,” he warned. “There’s a blanket in the other saddlebag…or…better yet”—he patted the place beside him—“you’re always welcome to come here and share mine.” He grinned. “I promise we’d both wake up warmer and happier.”
“Or,” she replied, “they’d find our dead carcasses, half-eaten by a mountain lion.”
“Or that.” He laughed and rolled onto his back, where he continued to watch her through hooded lids. Although he’d allow himself to doze, his protective instincts wouldn’t let him fall into a deep sleep. He was also far too aware of her for comfort. His body was still coiled tight with unresolved sexual tension. Despite her viper tongue, her restless fidgeting and glances in his direction suggested that she felt the same. “Don’t wander off,” he mumbled. “If nature calls, wake me.”
It was too dark now to see her face, but he chuckled at the snark in her reply. “Yes, old woman. I’ll wake you.”
Chapter 10
Once she thought him asleep, Miranda plopped down cross-legged closer to the fire, staring thoughtfully into the flames. Though she’d rather have her toenails yanked out than admit it, Keith was right that she had no life. In truth, it sometimes felt as if she lived hiding in plain sight with no one ever really seeing her.
She’d given up almost everything to pursue her dream, but L.A. was expensive, loud, dirty, and very far from home and family. She had few friends beyond her roommate, Lexi, but hardly fit in with her crowd. So Miranda filled her waking hours with work, usually alone in her tiny apartment with a bag of Orville Redenbacher extra butter. She wondered now if the path she’d taken would eventually lead to happiness, or at least to the end of dissatisfaction with her life…with herself.
A coyote howl echoed her melancholy thoughts, breaking the silence with a long and lonesome cry. Another one answered. Was it a mating call?
She glanced again at Keith. Although his expression was relaxed, his face seemed sharper and more angular in the flickering firelight. She didn’t know what devil made her continue to taunt him. He looked very much the warrior, the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to take what he wanted. Her feelings about Keith were mixed and confused. He’d made her realize just how lonely and disconnected she was. Although she was more attracted to him than she’d ever been to anyone, she suspected he was just playing with her.