Free Angel in Disguise by Patt Marr Page A

up and down his biceps. “My tough guy loves a challenge. We’re hiking the advanced trail. Definitely.”
    She felt Pete’s quick intake of breath.
    “No!” Meggy cried. “That’s too—”
    “Let it go, Meggy,” Pete interrupted.
    “But, Pete…”
    Pete threw her a silencing look, and she covered her mouth with her hand as if that were the only way she could oblige. Her eyes begged him to reconsider.
    He shook his head and picked up his pack. What was going on?
    “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Meggy muttered.
    He passed her without a word, following Brad.
    “If I haven’t heard from you by seven tomorrow night,” she called after him, “I’m sending somebody to find you.”
    With his sister so worried, why hadn’t Pete told her the truth? They weren’t really going hiking. The trail they chose didn’t matter. But if Pete hadn’t told her, there must be a reason. Maybe the less Meggy knew, the better her integrity was protected.
    Still, there ought to be something reassuring she could say. As if they were going through with the hike, she said, “Meggy, we’ll be fine. I’m not newat this, and Pete’s an experienced camper. He knows what he’s doing.”
    “But he doesn’t… Pete isn’t…” Meggy stopped, her mouth worked wordlessly.
    “Meggy, what is it?”
    “It’s…nothing.” Her troubled eyes followed Pete. “I’m just a worrier. You guys have fun.”
    It didn’t ring true. The hooey alarm buzzed loud and clear.
    Sunny adjusted her backpack straps, giving the woman a moment to share if she would. But Meggy turned and walked to the van, her self-assured, outgoing personality completely subdued.
    Their path rounded a champion lodgepole pine that had to be fifteen feet or more in circumference. Pete waited with Brad at a small clearing, his irritation still obvious despite the smile he put on his face for her benefit.
    One last time they performed for Brad’s camera, acting as if they’d hiked for several miles, stopped for a rest and removed their backpacks. They sipped water from their canteens and pretended they couldn’t resist a mountain-blessed kiss.
    Naturally the kiss got the tingles in her stomach all worked up again. She barely knew this man but, given the choice, she’d take one of his kisses over a pistachio double dip anyday. They’d had—what?—two dates, and already she wondered if Pete Maguire wasn’t God’s choice for her.
    Brad finally lowered his camera and said, “Okay, kids, you’re on your own. The sweet young things in L.A. are callin’ me back, and I’m outta here.”
    When Brad rounded the lodgepole pine and theywere alone, Pete enveloped her in a big hug, lifting her off her feet. It was celebration time.
    Straight-faced, she said, “I think we ought to invite Brad over for a home-cooked meal.”
    “He can bring one of those sweet things from L.A.”
    “I’ll make a cheesecake.”
    “I’ll bring my mom. She can make pot roast.”
    They were just fooling around, saying anything, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the connection between them, the humor, the fun. The awareness. Pete’s eyes scanned her face, her eyes, her mouth, especially her mouth. Overhead a bird sang, and she thought she’d never been happier.
    He lowered his head. Ripples of excitement swept through her body.
    “There’s no audience.” Emotion made his voice husky.
    “Just you and me,” she whispered, her eyes locked on his mouth.
    “We didn’t expect this.”
    “No, but it feels right.”
    His kiss was soft, gentle, a perfect match with hers. He gathered her in his arms, pulled her close and kissed her as thoroughly as he had when the camera recorded it all, as if he really needed her.
    One minute more and she’d forget the values she held dear. She lifted her mouth, but kept her eyes closed and her arms wrapped around him. It wasn’t easy to let him go.
    He took a deep breath and smoothed her hair, that same little intimacy she’d noticed before.