Landon followed Piper, ahead of him with the flashlight, through the mess of reeds past the salt marshes in the area they dubbed “the glades.” The farther from civilization they walked, the angrier he grew. Looking out for his best bud’s sister hadn’t been as easy as he’d first thought, but he had no choice. It was what best friends did. If someone hurt either of Cole’s sisters, it was like someone hurt him. Kayden—she’d been the easy one. She was smart when it came to her safety, not to mention frighteningly tough. Piper . . .
He sighed. She was a different matter entirely. If things kept heading in the same direction, she’d send him to an early grave. The girl was bright—sometimes too much so. She possessed a rapier wit, but when it came to her safety, she was irresponsible at best, downright reckless at worst.
Cole would light her up when he heard about her latest stunt, but it would make no difference. It never did. The girl was as stubborn as the day was long, and Landon feared she’d never learn until it was too late.
Granted, he’d probably gone overboard comparing Denny Foster to Ted Bundy, but he’d been trying to drive home a point—being alone with a man in a secluded setting wasn’t smart under any circumstances, especially not on a third date.
His blood near boiling, he pressed into a faster stride, nearly clipping Piper on the heels.
“Scared of the dark?” she quipped.
A bullfrog croaked.
“Just keep moving.” He pressed a hand to her back. “I don’t want to be out here all night.”
“You’re cranky when you’re tired.”
“You keep being a sass and you’ll see cranky.”
“Ooh, I’m shaking in my sandals.” She laughed, then abruptly stopped.
He nearly bowled her over before regaining his balance. “Brake lights would be nice.”
“Sorry. I’m stuck.”
“What?”
“My feet are stuck.”
He took the flashlight from her and swooshed the beam across her feet, both several inches deep in mud and gook.
He smirked. “Told you, you shouldn’t be sassy, pipsqueak.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. Now, give me a hand and quit calling me that. It wasn’t funny when I was twelve and it’s certainly not funny now.” She braced herself against him and lifted her right leg. Her foot broke through the strap and she nearly toppled backward into him.
He steadied her. “Easy now.”
“Argh! Those were my favorite sandals.” She let out a huff and bent to pull the broken strap. With a sludgy suction noise, the sandal flung free, spraying Landon with a fine mist of mud.
Her lips twitched.
“Don’t you dare.”
She burst out laughing.
Wiping the gunk from his face, he fought the urge to wring her neck. “Let’s try this my way, shall we?” He bent, slipped her foot from the remaining sandal, and scooted her behind him. Tugging the broken strap gingerly, he pulled it free and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She held it aloft as mud oozed off. “I guess it’s barefoot from here.”
“No way. Kids use this area as a partying spot. There’s likely broken glass spread all over the area, not to mention the wildlife we might encounter.”
“So what do you suggest? I hop on one foot?”
“That could be interesting.” Balancing on one leg, she already looked like a lopsided flamingo. He cracked a grin.
“Get real,” she sighed. “I think I’ll take my chances barefoot.”
“Not happening.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Landon hefted Piper higher up on his back, fighting off the chill of the rain drenching them. This night had gone from bad to worse. Traipsing through the mud to the chorus of bullfrogs in pouring rain with Piper on his back was far from his ideal. He could have been home—warm, dry, and in bed. Instead, Piper had been out doing what she shouldn’t, with someone she should have known better than to trust, and again, he was paying the price. At least it wasn’t a total loss. She’d found the truck. He had to, no matter how begrudgingly, give her credit for that. He just hoped it would hold the answers they’d been searching for . . . if they ever reached it.
“How much farther did you say?”
“Not far.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
“It’s not my fault the rain is slowing you down.”
“The rain and an extra hundred and twenty-five pounds. Or . . .” He hefted her up again. “Is it more?”
She tightened her grip on his neck. “A hundred and twenty-three, thank you very much.”
He chuckled, despite the pressure on his Adam’s apple.
“There.” She released her death grip and aimed the flashlight a few yards in front of them.
Landon smiled at the beam bouncing off the metal bumper.
“Well,” Piper said, shivering on the truck bed. It was now half past three, and she was soaked, cold, and tired. But at least the rain had stopped.
“There’s not much here.” Landon slammed the truck door.
“So what now?”
He wiped his brow. “Now we hike back out of here. I take you home and get Kayden to fly me to Anchorage.”
“Anchorage? What for?”
He smiled. “To catch the early-morning flight to Washington. Turns out this night wasn’t a total loss. I found a worn sticker on the inside of the glove box for Jim’s Auto Shop in Bellingham, Washington.”