Free Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) by Susan May Warren Page A

didn’t know what to say.
    Thank you for finding me? For giving me an amazing day?
    For being my friend.
    Except, that’s not what she wanted—not at all. But she had a code, one that said she wasn’t going to read more than there was into a relationship.
    She reached for the handle.
    His hand on her arm stopped her. “Liza—uh. I have a question.”
    She looked at him, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
    “I don’t want—I mean.” He blew out a breath. “I was going to hike Doe Mountain, catch the sunset. And I was wondering if you would...will you come with me?”
    She didn’t want to sound too eager, but um, yes . “Sure.”
    “Okay. Good. Do you want to grab a sweater or something? It can get cold.”
    She felt pretty sure that with Conner around she might never be cold again. But she ducked inside anyway, changed into jeans and grabbed a sweatshirt. He’d zipped the legs back onto his convertible shorts by the time she returned.
    Conner grinned at her as she got back into the car, as if he’d been reluctant to say good-bye, too. But that’s what friends did—spent time together. Enjoyed each other’s company.
    Liza had always wanted to hike Doe Mountain. The low, flat-topped mesa was famous for its panoramic views of Bear Mountain, the Verde Valley, and of course Chimney Rock.
    They parked in the lot, and to her surprise, Conner pulled a backpack out of the trunk. As if yes, he’d intended to hike the mountain, with or without her.
    So maybe it wasn’t a date—she was simply a tag-along.
    She tried not to let it deflate her as they hiked up the switchbacks.
    Friends, enjoying the day together. Because he was in the area.
    Wow, had she overread that.
    Still, as they ascended, as the sun began to settle below the far horizon, gilding the tufted clouds overhead with fire—threads of gold, umber, and crimson lighting the red rock ablaze—her disappointment slid away. Standing at the top, the canyon vast and redolent with the smells of the desert—sage, sand, and lime—was a little like flying again.
    Not quite. But enough.
    And then he took her off the path, walking along the edge of the cliff, along the top.
    “Where are we going?”
    “To find the best view.” Conner reached out his hand.
    Huh. She took it, letting his grip enfold her as he picked their way over the reddened clay, around sagebrush, low juniper.
    He finally found a niche about four hundred yards off the path, almost obscured from foot traffic, a small enclave in the rocks.
    Their own viewing platform about ten-feet wide that opened up to the west.
    “Box seats,” he said. He helped her down to the enclave, then opened his backpack. Pulled out a blanket. He spread it on the ground for her.
    Huh.
    She hunkered down next to him. “A day hike? It looks like you packed for the weekend.”
    “Just a quick trip up the mountain,” he said. “To see something amazing and beautiful.”
    Her heart just stopped. Because he wasn’t looking at the sunset, the layers of magenta and purple, the way it turned the mesa a rich, burnt red.
    No, his eyes were on her.
    “Liza, I—” He looked away. “I lied to you.”
    What?
    “I wasn’t just in the area .”
    Oh. She let a smile slide free.
    “I wanted to see you. I missed you, and I know I should have called, and I know I don’t deserve your friendship...”
    Oh. Right. She managed to keep her smile.
    “But I can’t get you out of my head.”
    Her voice left her, her throat dry as he looked at her again, his eyes thick with emotion. Longing? Sadness? Hope? She couldn’t place it, her own emotions a tangle.
    He had such beautiful eyes—in the sunset they turned gold at the irises, rich blue at the edges, the kind of eyes that could hold her captive.
    Had, actually, for two years.
    “I don’t know how, but you make me feel like my entire life isn’t filled with holes and broken promises.” He touched her face, ever so gently, his fingers tracing down her skin.
    Lighting it