Love without a Compass. Lindy Zart

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘If’ being the key word.

      I cross my arms and reply with a scowl, “I know how to be direct.”

      He steps closer, bringing his heat and earthy scent. Ben stares into my eyes, his face devoid of expression, and lifts a hand toward my face. “Oh, yeah? How so?”

      I hold my breath and go still, wanting to feel his fingers across my skin. I can’t remember ever wanting anything more.

      Toying with me or otherwise, I don’t want this to end.

      “Show me,” Ben encourages silkily. “Come on, be direct. Tell me what you’re really doing at Sanders and Sisters.”

      My heart lurches and I study his face. He can’t know anything. Realizing that doesn’t make me feel any relief. I open my mouth, but no sound comes forth. If we’re playing games right now, Ben’s winning.

      Ben pauses, darkness billowing around his lean frame like a shadowy cloak. “You can’t, can you?”

      “Ben, I…”

      Holding my gaze, he trails his fingers across my shoulder. I unconsciously shiver. Then he snatches his hand back, a red flag dangling from his fingers. Hardness claims Ben’s features, wiping any hint of seduction from his bearing as he growls, “Don’t forget who I am.”

      “I have no idea what you mean.”

      His eyes narrow. “I think you do.”

      I swallow hard, knowing what he’s going to say before he says it.

      Ben turns from me. “Remember, Avery, I know you. I know you better than anyone at Sanders and Sisters.” He looks over his shoulder with a single glance that blazes and chars. “How could I not? I’m the person you royally screwed over.”

      I blow out a noisy breath, wrinkling up my nose. Yes, he is that indeed.

      2

      BEN

      Duke Renner has never been much of a rule follower. Since he was in his mid-twenties, he’s run Sanders and Sisters, a small, but prestigious company that centers on marketing words to the right buyer. The company, run by two aging sisters and their brother, wasn’t much when Duke took it over, but he had the right amount of humor, bullheadedness, and charismatic personality to get his words noticed by the right people.

      Inspirational quotes, greeting cards, business logos, makeup, clothing, and athletic apparel slogans—Sanders and Sisters handles that and more. Words are everything. They can be the difference between crying and laughter, a smile and a frown. Hope and giving up.

      The Avery Scottam that Sanders and Sisters is familiar with doesn’t complain. She doesn’t have to, because everything is easy for her. Everyone wants to help her; I’ve even seen Duke fetch her tea as if it was his idea when she was the one who mentioned it. She writes some average saying a duck could think up, and her words are instantly sold. I wish Duke could see this Avery, and finally realize what I’ve known all along.

      I tried to tell Duke, but he just thought I wanted to get her in bed and my sexual frustration was making me cantankerous. That was his word. Cantankerous. That wasn’t it at all. Avery says I’m not her type, but she’s not mine either. She is relentless in her pursuit of any and every client in sight. She outshines me, again and again. It isn’t coincidental. It’s personal, and I don’t know why.

      My stomach growls, or maybe that’s just me. It does it again, confirming that it’s my stomach and it wants food.

      The last time I ate was at six this morning, and it’s now early afternoon. Too long ago. Except for some sips of water and a piece of jerky each, Avery and I haven’t had any real sustenance. We were told to ration what we were given, and I guess they thought bribing us with a gourmet meal tonight at the lodge would make it okay. I guess they were right, because here we are. This survivalist bullshit is a joke, and we’re the ones being laughed at.

      I glance over my shoulder to Avery. She’s unusually quiet—not that I’m not enjoying it. I’m generally a nice guy, but once someone deceives me, I’m done with them. Avery is the queen of deception. Sweat glistens on her sun-pink skin and a layer of grime covers the outfit I’m sure she bought specifically for today. She lifts an eyebrow when I don’t immediately look away and shifts her eyes forward. I turn my head back around and focus on the path.

      I’ve known Duke Renner for years. I consider him a mentor. Duke’s always been eccentric, but have I ever considered his choices to be dangerous or illogical? Not until now. I told him this was a bad idea, and not only because I knew he’d pair me with Avery, but because none of us city folk have any right trekking through a mountainous countryside. He laughed and told me to grow a pair. Nice guy, that Duke Renner.

      “Where are you going?” Avery demands when I veer off the path toward a tree.

      “I’m taking a piss. That okay?”

      “Yes, actually, it is, and by the way, I hope you piss all over yourself,” is called from behind.

      Half of my mouth lifts in a fleeting smile. Plain and simple, no matter that I can’t stand her, Avery routinely amuses me.

      I unzip my shorts and relieve myself, hearing what sounds like a squeaking sound as I finish up. Sure it’s a rodent scurrying about, I’m not overly concerned until I turn around and find the area Avery-less. Which would be good under regular circumstances, but out here in the wild? Not so much.

      “Avery?”

      When there continues to be no response, I ask, “Did you find a mirror and get lost in your reflection?”

      Silence greets me.

      I turn, annoyance flaring through my veins that she’s reciprocating my bad behavior toward her. Only one of us is allowed to be immature, and right now, I own that right. I take in my surroundings, looking for an inimitable shade of golden hair with matching eyes I’ve only seen on one particular woman.

      Nothing but nature faces me.

      A wisp of alarm threads itself around my chest, tightening enough to let me know something isn’t right.

      I turn in a slow circle, pausing to glance over the cliff’s edge. I quickly step back. My stomach dips at the thought of how far up we are, and how far someone would fall if they went over the edge. I swallow. “We’re a bit old to play hide and seek, don’t you think?”

      Not able to let fear become even a thought, anger takes over.

      I storm back in the direction from which we came, eerie quiet my only companion. Even the birds and bugs are silent. It makes my skin crawl. With her white shorts and pink shirt and shoes, Avery should stick out like a peppy cheerleader-type target among the neutral-toned land. I spent the hour-long drive to our drop-off point wondering who in their right mind would wear white shorts to hike through a mountainside. Now, all I want is to catch a glimpse of her white shorts—and not only because they’re microscopic.

      “Avery.”

      Why is she not answering me? I run a hand through my hair, jaw jutted forward as I make my way around a rock ledge that partly covers the trail. I look for clues on the ground, but I’m not a detective of any sort, or all СКАЧАТЬ