Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Wolfe froze before gently shrugging away from Jake’s touch. “Oh, er. I guess? I mean, yes. I can if people want. Lena—she’s one of the people we camped with before—she really likes to sing along when I play.”
I tried to distract myself from Wolfe’s discomfort by turning back to Claudia to ask about her favorite travel destinations. Every instinct in me fought to protect Wolfe from Jake, but I kept reminding myself that Wolfe was safe here in this big group. He was also an adult, as everyone and their brother had been reminding me lately.
I hoped Wolfe knew that I’d gotten that message loud and clear. Hell, it should have been obvious, considering what we’d done earlier in his van.
Without my agreement, my brain served up the memory of him coming apart. The taste of him. The soft touch of his fingertip tracing a hair on my chest and the look in his eyes while he did it.
“What about you?” Claudia asked, bringing me back to the campfire. “Do you have kids?”
“No, I’m a surrogate uncle to many kids, but none of my own.” It was my usual answer, but it sat wrong in my mouth now that one of my “kids” was a thirty-year-old man only two seats away.
Claudia’s face broke into a teasing smile. “Sometimes being the uncle is more fun. Less vomit and bedtime tantrums.”
Her husband heard her and added, “Probably more naps and fancy vacations, too,” before he leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her hair and hand her another beer with a murmured term of affection.
I glanced at the nearby table, where two of their kids were playing Battleship while the other poked at the fire with a long stick, most likely waiting for permission to roast marshmallows. I couldn’t imagine any nap or fancy vacation would be better than what they had, and it was clear they knew it.
Movement from my other side caught my attention. Jake had stood and held his hand out to Wolfe. “Come on, let’s go grab your guitar.”
Wolfe glanced at me, but I did my best not to interfere. Instead, I turned back to the Reynosos and tried to ignore the tension in my shoulders as I sensed Wolfe stand.
“I think I’ll just borrow Brennan’s,” he said before crossing the campsite.
Eduardo pulled his chair forward a little so he could see me around Claudia. “You the search and rescue guy?”
I blinked in surprise. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Will told us about you. When we were back in Moab, a kid went missing. He and his friends had gone off on four-by-fours, and the one kid got separated from the group. They thought maybe he’d fallen off a ridge.”
Claudia’s hand came up to cover the center of her chest. “It was terrifying.”
Eduardo reached to squeeze her knee. “Thankfully, they found him safe and sound, just off course. But Will told the parents right away that there were people who specialized in search and rescue. That night over dinner, he told us about you. About the school you run.”
Claudia smiled. “He sounded very proud. Said you’d helped find dozens of people over the years.”
I looked at Wolfe, who was nodding politely at something Jake said while they stood off to one side. My entire body was alert, like each hair on my skin was a satellite in a giant array, all pointed toward the subject of mass surveillance.
Get a fucking grip.
“I love what I do,” I said, turning back to the Reynosos.
Before they could ask me more, Lena squealed and skipped over to Wolfe, interrupting his conversation with Jake. “Are you going to play? I’ve been dying to ask if you know any Alison Krauss.”
His soft smile was genuine. “Absolutely. Did you get on a banjo kick or something to go along with the ukulele?”
The pair moved their chairs side by side, frustrating Jake, who was no longer the center of his attention. Wolfe brought the guitar up and began fiddling with it before starting to play the opening of a song I recognized right away.
The sound of the music flowing from his fast-moving fingers immediately quieted the group around the fire. Lena’s eyes lit up, and she started singing the first few lines of “I Don’t Believe You’ve Met My Baby.” Her clear, soft voice fell right alongside the chords.
My eyes went back to Wolfe. His fingertips moved on the fret. His other hand picked and strummed. His half-lidded eyes were tilted down to watch the strings, but all I could see was the way the tension drained completely out of him as he played. His shoulders melted down. His legs stretched out. The soft curve of his lips eased into a half smile.
The light from the fire shone on his dark hair while bits of it fell over his eyes. The muscles in his forearms shifted under his skin, and his head began to nod up and down with the rhythm of the song.