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Kara’s having that dream again. The one she often has when the usual nightmares take a short vacation. It starts with her being married to her best friend and ends with her crying because it’s not real.

They’re in some far off place in New Mexico, or Colorado, or Arizona.

She can’t see the house they live in, but knows it’s safe and cozy, surrounded by the wide expanse of red desert.

The simple wedding band on her finger proves she finally got exactly what she wants, and the warm arms wrapping around her from behind only highlight it.

Wade rests his chin on her shoulder as she gazes out past the horizon visible from their porch, whispering that breakfast is ready.

She puts off turning around because she only gets a taste of this, just enough to want more of something forbidden.

As predicted, she’s allowed a whole twenty seconds before he shimmers and fades, and she’s swept away from her heart’s desire.

Reality is difficult to distinguish this time, though. There’s an arm around her back and the soothing rise and fall of a muscled chest under her head. If she’s not awake yet, then she doesn’t want to be.

“You okay?” Wade asks, noticing how tense she’s become while trying to will herself back into oblivion.

“Please be real.”

She’s caught in the haze of sleep, prone to confusion without enough sense to slap a filter over her mouth. His half smile when she glances up takes the sting from her mistake.

“Last I checked, I am. Did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm. I had a good dream.”

“Me too.”

His gentle, one-armed squeeze catches her so off guard that her request tumbles out by accident, revealing what she craves. “More.”

She’s overstepping, but he answers her plea anyway, surrounding her so completely as he pulls her in that any hesitation is whisked away. The more she’s given, the more she wants to feel him everywhere, and he doesn’t disappoint, only encouraged by her squeak of approval.

Kara never liked to be held. She’s always been more apt to fight it, but for someone who hates this sort of thing, she’s certainly getting lost in it right now.

He’s her own personal weighted blanket, applying pressure at all the right spots until she’s melted and lax, surrendering to his all-encompassing hold that only goes slack after several long, firm moments.

“Good?”

“So good,” she confirms, humming and lazy.

The hint of concern in his voice says he doesn’t want to hurt her, but she’s not that breakable.

He can’t possibly know just how badly she needs the contact.

He’s given her more dopamine off that fierce hug than she’s had in the last decade or more combined.

Must have the stupidest smile on her face and doesn’t even care because it all just feels good, right, safe.

Too much like the dream she left behind. That thought sobers her.

This isn’t real. She’s playing house as far as he’ll let her, and that’ll only make the crash harder. The fact that she’s pulsing so strongly between her legs is only another signal that she needs to get control fast.

“You smell good.”

She nuzzles her cheek against his shoulder. “I doubt that.”

They both need a bath, a shower or at the very least a wipe down with a wet towel, but she knows he’s not bullshitting her because he still smells good, too. She’s one hundred percent certain that’s got nothing to do with anything except hormones.

“Maybe we can wash up in that lake along one of the trails?” she suggests.

“Trying to skinny dip again?”

“If the situation calls for it.”

“I’ll bring the soap.”

* * *

Wade was going to kiss her.

That sounds like an insane thought, but she clearly remembers how he touched her the night before. How softly he stroked her lips, and the way his eyes flickered there before thunder broke them apart.

It’s difficult to accept what’s right in front of her when she wants it so badly, but there’s never been a moment when his intentions have been clearer.

And yet, she questions them like always.

Lying in his arms this morning, listening to the steady beat of his heart, she wanted to cry because this shouldn’t be so difficult.

If they’re meant to be together, it wouldn’t feel like such an insurmountable challenge. Climbing this mountain and hiking to the overlook may as well be a walk on a level path compared to how uphill this dance is with Wade.

He seems different today, though, especially after that hug she nearly begged for in bed.

God, what was she doing? She saw a video before the turn of a lioness throwing herself at an uninterested male.

Rolled around between his paws and flung her tail in his face and he didn’t do a damn thing about it.

Kara’s feeling a lot like that lioness this morning, throwing herself at Wade, even if she rarely understands that’s what’s happening until after the fact. He never takes the bait.

She has a habit of playing with fire, chasing the inevitable burn, unwilling to quit.

She’s been pondering her next move the whole way to this trail.

They’re out early, trying to beat the sunrise.

She’s grateful he doesn’t have a clear view of her face yet, or he’d probably think he’s done something wrong when it’s her own insecurities pestering her.

Her plan is to reach for his hand when the sun comes up. She almost laughs at how something so simple feels so difficult.

They’ve held hands before, but this is different because they are different.

They’ve been circling each other at a more intense rate lately, so much so that she’s having a hard time denying it.

That gives this gesture an entirely different implication.

Can hardly enjoy the hike as daylight starts to tease them, too preoccupied with her plan until he breaks the silence with a question that quickly redirects her attention to far less butterfly-inducing things.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

She slides Wade a sideways glance, wincing at the throb in her head leftover from last night’s recreational activities. “What’s weird?”

“That it’s so empty here. I know you said it’s just like that now after all this time, but this was a huge tourist spot. Finding no one at all except that poor guy in the motel is just…strange. It feels strange to me. Where the fuck did they go?”

She pauses, horror crossing her features as she fixes him with a scolding stare. “Don’t ask that out loud! Sure, maybe it’s a little weird, but we take what good fortune we can find and just be happy that Sedona is empty and we can sightsee in peace.”

He shrugs as they continue the walk to the Cathedral Rock trailhead.

Kara resists the urge to give him a thorough talking to about ticking off the powers that be by jinxing their luck.

She might have also been thinking that it’s extremely out of the ordinary to find such a popular place completely void of all life…

and all death, but the last thing she’d ever do is speak those words into the air. That’s only inviting trouble.

She does find it curious, though. They’ve been on the road for the majority of this trip, only stopping to sleep, so it’s much easier to rationalize how few rotters they’ve come across, but wandering on foot through the hiking epicenter of the southwest without a single groan or growl in the background highlights the creepy factor tenfold.

They had to leave the rover a mile out due to all the roundabouts being blocked.

Risking the noise from the bike triggering a herd wasn’t on their to-do list. That’s left plenty of time to ponder their situation as they hoof it across the desert in the pre-dawn light.

“Thanks for coming here with me,” he smiles. “I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly. It’s part of the list. Besides, maybe I wanna see what’s so great about this place, too. You’ve got me curious. Why didn’t you ever come before? You could have.”

“I dunno. It’s not the kinda spot you go alone. I mean, I’m sure people have and they enjoyed it, but…this is the kind of view you share with someone and I never found anyone else I wanted to share it with.”

That sounds a lot like he’s admitting he dreamed of bringing her here all this time.

That’s a whole lot different from simply wanting to check a hike off the bucket list. Her pulse begins to flutter the way it did the night before when they were locked in a staring contest, his hands on her skin and his gaze full of something she’s terrified to put a name to.

She swallows hard, looking at the ground instead of him. “You never mentioned it before.”

He sighs. “Never felt like the right time.”

“Why is it the right time now?”

She waits with her breath held tight, hoping he might say something that’ll take them from this murky, unlabeled zone into clearer waters, because there’s not a chance she can be brave enough to do that herself.

Instead, he throws an arm out across her body to halt her movement, his other hand coming up to rest at his lips in the universal sign for don’t say a word.

She follows his nod toward a single rotter standing still in a cluster of desert overgrowth.

It hasn’t heard them yet. She could creep up behind it and shove her knife into its skull and be done with it.

That’s almost what she does before a second one catches sight of them a few yards away and runs in their direction full blast.

“Take the close one, I got the runner,” Wade tells her, and there’s no time to argue.

They make quick work of each, but there’s no denying the commotion from the runner was a lot more noise than either of them planned to make today.

“Just wait,” she whispers. “Where there’s one, there’s more. They’re like roaches.”