Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
She smiles and leans in, nudging my arm with her shoulder. “I’d say you’re doing a great job of being brave. Especially tonight. You walked out of there like you didn’t have a clown care in the world. I was proud of you, Preston.”
Grinning at my new name—I’ve always thought my middle name sounded more exciting than my given one—I tip my head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “Thank you, Lady Gray.”
She giggles in response. “Is it wrong that I love our code names so much? They make me a little giddy.” She bites her lip and rolls her eyes back toward the stars. “Either that or the wine.” She sighs. “Should we take a walk around the park across the street before we head to the campsite? Or are you okay to drive?”
“I’m fine to drive,” I say, reaching for the keys. “I’m bigger than you are. And I ate a lot more food. Besides, we need to get set up so we can start researching our treasure hunt. I don’t want to leave Utah empty-handed.”
She claps her hands. “Me, either. This is so exciting! Even better than a scavenger hunt. I loved those when I was a kid.”
“Me, too,” I say, never happier to be a nerd who follows treasure-hunting blogs. Like Tessa, I loved scavenger hunts as a kid and the idea that somewhere out there, mysterious treasures are waiting to be found. It isn’t about the money for me, it’s about the adventure.
“So, you really think we’ll have several hunts to choose from?” she asks as I open the passenger door for her. We’ve decided to leave Freya in her crate until we’re set up at the campsite, reducing the chances that she’ll run off while we’re hooking up water and electric and fetching wood for a campfire.
“Yeah, I think so. If we don’t mind driving a little.” Once I’m buckled in, I set off down the narrow road leading to the campsite, regaling her with tales of Montezuma’s cursed treasure, an evil Spanish priest’s ill-gotten gold, and Butch Cassidy’s outlaw stash.
“Wow.” She cracks the window, inhaling the sweet, grass-scented air. This area will be bone dry in a couple months, but for now, the grasslands are alive with smells and the sounds of insects humming in the cool night. “I think we’re going to need a wardrobe adjustment.”
I grin and tease, “Indiana Jones hat?”
She laughs. “I mean, yeah. Why not? I’d also enjoy a white linen shirt and some vintage khakis, but I can make do with my Gore-Tex hiking apparel, if needed. But the hat is non-negotiable. After we research treasure-hunting locations, I’ll do some research on where to buy matching hats.” She reaches out, her fingers lingering on my arm for a beat, even that brief contact making my blood pump faster. “You don’t mind matching, do you?”
“Mind?” I scoff. “I insist on it. Every good team needs a uniform.”
“We should get something for Freya, too. A brow ribbon or something. I doubt she’ll tolerate a hat, even if we could find one small enough. She has very little patience for dressing up aside from ribbons and the occasional stretchy vest. The one time I put her in a dress, I thought she was going to have an aneurysm. She threw herself on the ground and thrashed until she was exhausted, then refused to move until I took it off.”
“I think Christian did the same thing when our cousins dressed him up in their old pageant dresses when he was little,” I say, shrugging as I add, “I didn’t mind it, myself. Dresses are comfortable and good for airflow.”
She giggles. “Tell me someone took pictures.”
“For sure. Mom still has them in a family album somewhere. Me, Christian, Matty, and Melissa all dressed up in big floofy gowns. I don’t know who was angrier, Christian or Mel. She hated girl clothes when she was a kid.”
Tessa hums low in her throat. “I’m not surprised. She doesn’t love them now. I can count the times I’ve seen her in a dress on one hand. Including last night.” She runs a hand through her hair and leans forward as we near the gates. “Oh no, it looks like the check-in kiosk is closed.”
“It’s okay. I paid for our spot online and they sent directions for check-in and check-out. And there’s a caretaker on site if we run into trouble. We’re spot sixty-nine.”
“You’re kidding,” she says with a soft snort. “Sorry. I have the sense of humor of a teenage boy sometimes.”
I grin. “No, I’m not kidding. The website said it had one of the best views of…” I trail off with a chuckle. “Well, you’ll see tomorrow morning.”
“What will I see?”
I shrug. “The view. Unless the moonlight is bright enough to see it tonight.”
She glances outside. “Maybe. It’s pretty bright, but the moon won’t be full for another four days.”