Page 14 of Forest Proximity
Adam smiles with his dark chocolate eyes. “Before they what?”
I sigh. I might as well tell the unicorn all of my weirdest secrets. “Before they find a Good Enough man for me,” I say, high pitched and in a rush. I shrug, like the whole thing isn’t ridiculous.
The smile finally reaches Adam’s lips—just a flash—but it quickly turns into a frown. “You’re trying to find evidence of Bigfoot ... before your friends can find a man who is good enough for you.” His eyes search my face.
I want to run away. I know how it sounds. I’m open-minded about mythical creatures, but not about the supply of decent men in this world. I get that it makes me sound like a judgmental nutcase, but I can’t deny it. I’m more likely to find Bigfoot than I am to find a good man.
“I should go.” I stand, and my head throbs.
Adam follows me. “Are you going to keep looking for it alone?”
“I usually do.”
“You’re not safe out here by yourself.”
I need to remind him who he’s talking to. I was practically raised in these woods. I spin to face him, which is a huge mistake. Even after I stop the forest keeps moving around me, and I stumble. I hold my hand to my head with a moan.
“Okay.” Adam sounds almost exasperated. He puts his hands on my shoulders to steady me. “You drove here?”
“Yeah.” I press my fingers to my temples. The pain in my head is cruel. “I felt okay before—”
“Before you got in a fight with a turkey.”
Yeah. That. I just need a second to get my bearings. I prop my butt against the nearest tree trunk and take a deep breath.
“I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t—”
“Please let me take you home.”
My gaze darts to Adam. He looks genuinely worried. How can I say no to that face? I can tell him later that I can take care of myself in this preserve. I’ve hiked alone here hundreds of times, and the biggest threat to my safety is Butterballsy. The fact that he thinks I can’t handle it is sitting in my head like a crooked picture frame. I’m itching to correct it. But for now, the thought of sitting in the passenger seat and closing my eyes outweighs my need to correct him.
“That would be nice.”
He doesn’t hide his surprise that I’ve agreed so quickly. “Are you ready?”
I lick my lips. I'm dreaming about a tall glass of ice water, among other things. “I think so.”
I need to take it easy, and Adam seems to sense that. He keeps a slow pace beside me, and he quietly scans the ground and the woods as we make our way to the parking area.
“My truck is over here,” he says with a nod to the back of the gravel lot.
I don’t see his white truck, and I didn’t see it when I got here, I realize. But I follow him to the back tree line, and sure enough Adam’s truck is in a secluded spot, surrounded by trees and totally hidden from the rest of the lot.
He pulls out his keys and unlocks the passenger door. “The shade keeps my truck from turning into an oven in the summer.”
“A brave move, showing me your secret spot,” I murmur.
Yikes. That came out all wrong, but it’s honest. If I saw this spot, I would’ve stolen it from him. Usually I crack my windows, which isn’t totally safe, but it’s better than suffocating in a hot car after a hike. This is primo parking.
Adam swings the door open and waits for me to climb inside and buckle up. “You good?” he asks once I’ve settled in.
I’m getting a ride home and a peek into his mysterious world. I’m doing fine. “Yep.” I smile.
He nods, closes my door, and his footsteps crunch around the bed behind me. I take in my surroundings while I have the chance. It’s a standard work truck. The dashboard is dusty, and there’s a pair of worn leather gloves on the console. But the smell. The whole cab is full of his cedarwood scent that ties my stomach in knots. Do all unicorns smell so masculine? Just Adam?
Time’s up. He climbs inside, reaching past me to drop his toolbox on the floorboard behind my seat. His arm brushes mine. “Sorry,” he murmurs.
