Chapter Six
As he peered through high-powered field glasses, Jake asked, “Why do you want to go out there, Red? Judging by all the footprints, surely the statue is gone.” After spotting disturbed snow at the dig site, he checked the perimeter again to see if they were alone.
He’d asked Gabby about her escape from home and her sex life to see how closely her father guarded her. Looked like she’d been locked down tight. Her guards could be lurking nearby, so they’d have to stay on their toes. He couldn’t let the thugs get her back before she got her statue.
Gabby picked up her phone from the rock where he’d laid it. “I need to see if whoever was snooping around here dug in the right place.”
It was a risk, but she was right. They didn’t know who the footprints belonged to. It could’ve even been someone from the tribal police patrolling the area now that they’d seen the request to dig. “Okay. Follow me and stay close.”
He scanned the trees that surrounded the clearing one more time and then slowly set out across the lightly snow-covered ground.
Gabby laid her hand on his back as she followed behind. It bugged him a little. But she’d been nervously chewing on her bottom lip a moment ago, so he’d let it pass. She usually had bodyguards who protected her 24–7. And she worked in a dusty, guarded museum all day, so she was clearly out of her element. Like a lamb facing a lion. Of course, she was afraid.
He glanced over his shoulder to check behind them, and Gabby held her gun at the ready. “Put that away before you accidentally shoot me.”
“But”—she stopped walking—“what if I need to use it?”
When he stared her down, she reluctantly tucked her gun back where it was before.
“Thank you.” He started walking again. “Do you think you could shoot someone with that if you have to?”
“No. I was just planning to shoot near someone. I’d never be able to actually shoot a person.”
He dug deep for patience. She’d violated the first rule of gun ownership. “What are the chances your guards know that about you?”
She caught up, and her hand returned to the same spot on his back, right between his shoulder blades. “About a hundred percent. Are there bears out here, too?”
“Probably still hibernating. Don’t take that gun out unless you’re prepared to shoot someone. Or a bear. Promise me, Red.”
“Okay. I think I could shoot a bear. Maybe.”
They approached the dig site. It didn’t look like anything as special as ancient burial grounds to him. Just a bunch of muddy snow and an empty hole in the ground. “Looks like we’re too late.”
Gabby grabbed her phone from her pocket and checked the GPS location. “This is the spot, but seriously, how accurate could someone have been back then? It was buried during World War Two. They didn’t have the technology we do now.”
He continued to scan the trees and cliffs while she got down on her hands and knees and pulled out her shovel. He asked, “Did the map say how deep it was buried?”
“Yes, thankfully, but the blowing winds here and the sandy soil could affect that.” She glanced at the empty hole beside her. “That’s about the right depth according to what we’d guessed, darn it. But the man who buried it had used the length of his footsteps from that big rock over there to measure, so it could still be here. That’s not an accurate way to mark the spot.”
He examined the lone hole. “If someone hadn’t found it, wouldn’t they be doing exactly what you’re doing? Digging more holes?”
Gabby stopped her frantic digging and glanced up at him. “You’re right.” She tossed her shovel aside and stood. “Crap!”
He continued to watch for signs of movement while she stomped around the site, muttering to herself. She grew quiet midmutter and crouched to the ground.
“Jake, look at this. It makes no sense.”
He took one last look around and then knelt beside her. She had a piece of broken pottery in her hand. “What? This place is supposed to be full of artifacts, right?”
She shook her head. “Not from this tribe. This shard is from a tribe in the Dakotas. See this distinctive pattern? We have a ton of pieces like this back in the lab right now.”
Back in the lab? Where she and Dean both worked? “Gabby, if someone kidnapped you and told you to find the statue, what would you do when you got here?”
She frowned. “It depends on my motivation. If I wanted the statue, I’d dig it up. If I didn’t want to find it, I’d dig in the wrong place and say the information must be wrong. We had strong theories about two other burial grounds before the cartographer told us it was here.”
He nodded. “What if you didn’t want to find the statue but knew someone with some archaeology knowledge was going to be right behind you? Someone who could save it?”
Her eyes went wide. “Dean must’ve left this here for me to find.” She scanned the distance between the hole and where she’d found the pottery. “I wonder if the placement of the shard is another clue.” She laid the chunk of pottery down and ran to her bag. She pulled out some string, a metal spike, and a pen. “Could you hold this right here, please?”
He leaned down and held the string while she unraveled it. She lined up the spike with the big rock and then ran it into the ground. She marked the string with the pen and then wrapped it around the spike. Then she stood back to take a picture with her cell. “He might be telling me it’s right here, while he leads his kidnappers on a wild-goose chase.” She leaned down and started digging.
She dug hard and fast. He wanted to help, but her guards knew she’d visit the site, so he needed to stay alert. The shortest distance to cover if anyone started shooting was a good fifty-yard run across open terrain. It made him itchy.
“Gabby, I imagine your dad owns a plane or two, right?”
She nodded. “One for domestic and one for overseas. Why?” She continued to dig at a breakneck pace. The anticipation on her face was amusing. Like a kid opening a present at Christmastime.
“How early this morning do you think your aunt confessed?”
“She said they woke her up. And she’s a pretty early riser usually, so I’d guess it was before six thirty.” Gabby flipped to the other side of the hole she was working on and widened it.
“How long does it take to reach the airport where your dad keeps his planes from your house?”
She stopped and laid her hands on her knees. “Oh, you’re calculating how soon they could be here. I already did that this morning. They’re two hours ahead, which doesn’t help, but I figure my guards couldn’t be here before twelve thirty or one o’clock.”
“That soon.” He glanced toward the trees again. All clear. “Maybe you should dye your hair a different color. Red is too easy to spot.”
“Good idea.” She looked up and smiled. “I’ve had red hair long enough. Maybe I’ll go blonde.”
“Blonde or red haired, you’ll always be pretty.”
She shook her head and started digging again. “Making myself more attractive to you isn’t the point, Jake. Brown or black hair is more common and would probably blend better.”
He smiled. Now she was thinking more like a cop.
He laid a hand over his heart. “No matter what color you choose, it’d be impossible for me to be any more attracted to you than I already am.” He wasn’t joking about that. Gabby was pretty inside and out.
“I’ve timed it, and you are evidently incapable of being serious for more than twenty minutes. Did you know that?”
“I think it’s more like nineteen minutes.” He shrugged. “Because that last thing I said was stone-cold true. Hurry please.”
Her head whipped up, and she stared at him with those big brown eyes for a few seconds, before she blushed and went back to her digging.
Why had he confessed that? He was an idiot, that’s why. If and when she found out he was a cop, she’d probably run as fast as she could the opposite way. But he wanted to know more about Gabby. And to help her find her statues that she so vehemently wanted to protect. He admired her determination.
Something about her hit him square in the heart.
Gabby dug for another half hour before she gave in and stopped. Disappointed, and with burning muscles, she looked up at Jake, who had been keeping watch. “I don’t think it’s here. But the pottery being here means Dean most likely has been. I need to figure out why Dean left this shard for me to find.”
Jake glanced her way. “By the number of footprints and variance in sizes, I think it’s safe to say one or two big men and a smaller one were here. Or it could be a woman’s footprints. How big a guy is Dean?”
She packed her things. “He’s short, skinny, and a perv. Dean comes up to about here on me.” She held her hand just below her collarbone. “He says the best thing about working with me is the view. He’s very dedicated to archaeology, and the ongoing study of my chest.” She hated that about her boss. It was creepy. He was creepy.
Jake’s right brow spiked. “Want me to smack him around some if we find him? Explain what workplace sexual harassment is all about?”
“No. My workplace choices are limited by my father. I hate Dean’s behavior but put up with it only because I want to have a job.” She laughed. “Besides, I’m used to being around annoying men at work and home. Hence my ability to put up with you.” She flung her bag over her shoulder. “Let’s go back to the cabin and look at my notes. I need to figure out this clue.”
As they jogged for tree cover, Jake said, “So on a scale of one to ten, Dean being a ten, how much do I annoy you?”
“See? That you’d even ask that question shows your inability to take anything seriously. And ten, by the way. But not always in a bad way.”
Once they were a few feet into the woods, and out of sight from the dig site, they slowed their pace. Jake asked, “Tell me how I annoy you in good ways, and I’ll try to keep that up.” His mischievous smile made it hard to actually be annoyed with him sometimes.
“You can’t help the good ways because you were born with them.” She shifted the heavy bag to her other shoulder. “It’s science really. People are attracted to certain attributes and tend to have ‘types.’ You happen to be my type on many levels. I once read a study that showed people are naturally attracted to specific features in others that we secretly desire for ourselves. But attraction is simply physical desire and can be controlled.”
“You’re just my type, too, Red. And we’re both single. Why would we want to control our desire for each other?” Jake’s forehead crumpled in question. “I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss you since yesterday.”
“Because we can’t always have what we want. It’s best to accept that and not dwell.” She glanced his way again, and her heart sighed. She wanted to kiss him, too. She hadn’t ever been so confusingly attracted to a man. But it’d be a mistake to get too involved with Jake, because she feared he was the kind of man she could fall in love with. He’d said flat out he could never marry a woman like her if her father weren’t in jail. And that wasn’t a trade she’d ever make—love for her father’s freedom.
He was quiet for all of fifteen seconds while he pondered her words. “What about living in the moment and enjoying the pleasure while we can?”
She shook her head. “Have you ever gone to the freezer, just dying for your favorite ice cream, but when you open the container there’s only one bite left? You have to decide if you’d be satisfied with just that one bite or if it’s better not to have taken that small taste and be left yearning for more the rest of the evening.”
Jake’s fingers slipped around her arm to stop her. “Who only has one flavor of ice cream in their freezer? I’d just eat that bite and then open the other container sitting right beside it.”
Was he talking about actual ice cream, or was that supposed to be a metaphor? “Is that what you do with women? Move on to the next flavor rather than committing to your favorite?”
“What? No.” After a quick look around, he shook off his backpack and gently laid down his gun. “I was talking about the ice cream in my freezer, not hypothetical women. I take my ice cream pretty damned seriously, Red.”
Oh, so he really did have more than one flavor of ice cream in his freezer at a time? She always finished the container before she bought more. Maybe that had been a bad example.
She dropped her bag at her feet. “So I’ve finally found the one thing you take seriously?” She crossed her arms.
“I take a lot of things seriously.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Especially sexy scientists.” His mouth was less than an inch from hers. “Can I stop controlling my desire now and kiss you?”
She stared into his turquoise-tinted eyes, debating if she should let him. Warning bells sounded in her head, reminding her it might be like that ice cream and leave her wanting more. “Fine, you weak man.”
His smiling lips met hers and silenced the annoying thoughts screaming at her. She wanted to know what it’d be like, because she took first kisses seriously. If it were bad, it’d make it easier to ignore her attraction to him.
He used just enough pressure to show how much he wanted her, but with enough restraint to keep it on a G-rated level. For a sweet kiss, it packed a punch. It made her want to feel what the R-rated version would be like.
She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her whole body against his. Forget her ice-cream analogy. What could one little taste hurt?
When his whole body stiffened, it reminded her that he needed to be the aggressor of touch, so she released him and abruptly ended the kiss just when it’d been getting good. She took a step back. “I’m sorry. I forgot about the touching thing.”
“No worries.” He reached out and pulled her against him again. “It sometimes takes me aback for a moment, that’s all. Now, where were we?” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, this time just the way she wanted. Lots of heat, tongue, and lust. It sent a shot of tingling thrill up her spine, and her stomach into a swooping free fall.
She snuggled closer and ran her hands through his thick hair as he changed the angle of the kiss. He turned up the intensity and shot her to the next level, making every part of her body feel alive. Heat spiraled through her veins, burning her up, filling her with need, sending her heart rate into overdrive.
His hand slipped down her side, cupped her breast, and gently kneaded, making her back arch into his hand for more. Dammit. He wasn’t just a good kisser. Jake was an extraordinarily good one.
He slowly ended the kiss and then whispered, “See? Living in the moment isn’t so bad.” He tapped her butt playfully and then picked up all their things and started walking back to the ATV.
What? He’d laid a kiss like that on her and then just walked away? Hadn’t it meant anything to him?
She stood with her hands on her hips, confused. What was her next move? Tell him that had been a mistake that’d never happen again, or, just like that last bite of ice cream, now she wanted more.
She jogged to catch up. Maybe he wasn’t as impressed with the kiss as she had been. Maybe he kissed women all the time and then walked away. It was probably all a game to him.
She finally caught up and matched his long strides, still huffing a bit from the altitude. “Can I ask you a question, Jake?”
“Yep.” He turned and met her gaze. “Why do you look so upset?”
“Because.” She gulped in another deep breath. “I’m not like you. I don’t have one-night stands and then walk away whistling. I have to have some feelings for someone before I sleep with them. Or kiss them.”
“You’re making incorrect assumptions.” He swung his free arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I don’t do one-night stands, either. I’ve always wanted the whole deal, kids, and a minivan. Dani didn’t.”
That made her heart do a little backflip before she remembered he’d never want to be with her. “Do you still love Dani?”
He nodded. “I’ll always love her on some level. Maybe that’s why I’m not boyfriend material, like the last woman I dated declared so loudly.”
Love her on some level? So not actively in love with her? “Or, maybe it’s because you lack kissing manners and walk away like it never happened?” Especially a hot kiss like they’d just shared. She wasn’t asking for a ring, for goodness’ sake—just some common respect.
“Kissing manners?” He laughed. “It’s cold out here, and the woods could be full of your father’s men. No time to linger for safety purposes. I didn’t just walk away proud of myself for stealing a kiss, and I certainly wasn’t whistling. But if you’d rather I didn’t kiss you again, just say the word.”
She glanced at his face to see if he was serious for a change. “I didn’t say that. I was just . . .” What? Did she want him to kiss her again? “Clarifying. That’s all.” He hadn’t removed his arm from her shoulder, and that surprised her.
“Then I’ll clarify.” He gave her a quick squeeze. “I’m attracted to you because of the kindness in your heart, all the amazing things that lurk in that exceptional brain, and because you’re beautiful inside and out. But you’re going back to DC soon. I have a life here. If we slept together, I think we’d both enjoy it. But it can’t be anything more than that. So, I’ll leave that decision up to you.”
“I’ll have to think about it.” She’d never had a man talk to her about having sex like it’d be a business deal. But, he was right, and she respected his honesty. “How long does your vacation last? Before you have to go back to work, whatever that is?”
He sighed. “I’m off for the rest of the month. If you wanted to keep me company, no matter what you decide about the sex, I’d like that very much. I’m not good at being alone.”
That tugged at her heart. “I’m an expert at being alone. Maybe I can teach you a thing or two about it in return for your help with the statue?”
“That’s a deal.” His grin wasn’t his usual naughty one. It seemed . . . sincere for a change.
They’d arrived at the ATV, so he let his arm fall away from her shoulder, to strap on their things. It left her feeling cold again.
She picked up Dani’s helmet from the seat and put it on. She’d find the statue first, assuming someone else hadn’t, and then decide what to do. Maybe lying low and spending a month with Jake was just what she needed to help her decide the plan for the rest of her life.
But should she sleep with Jake? Her hormones voted yes, but her brain was pulling the emergency brake. Spouting off little reminders of how they’d never be together long term. And that it’d only be sex. Reiterating that the goal was to find a nice guy to settle down with. That she could get hurt. Best to stay friends.
There was something special about Jake she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Would it be worth the risks her brain was warning her of to find out what that was?
Jake fired up the engine, so she wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled close to stay warm. His sexy, hard muscles plastered against her chest made it difficult for the logical side of her brain to think. Only feel. And it felt just right to be with Jake.