Gotta Have It. Lori WildeЧитать онлайн книгу.
with Durango.
“I really want to be by myself. To meditate.”
Abby stared at her. “Since when do you meditate?”
“Since I found out Colin Cruz is deep into Eastern philosophy. Now, do you mind?” Tess made shooing motions at them. “Scram.”
She knew what her friend was up to and, while Tess thought she had her best interest at heart, Abby wasn’t the least bit grateful.
“Abby?” Durango raised a questioning eyebrow and cocked his head in the direction of the summit. “How ’bout we give Tess some space.”
Okay, fine. Blowing out her breath, Abby slid off the rock and reluctantly followed Durango up the trail. So much for the quiet, tranquil buttes of Sedona.
“You and Tess are total opposites,” Durango said to Abby when they were out of earshot. “How have you stayed friends for so long?”
“Tess is something of a character,” Abby conceded. “She’s a lot of fun to be around.”
“And you’re the ground wire.”
“I guess you could say that.”
They reached the top and, just as they were going up, a camera-wielding, balding, paunchy, middle-aged man wearing Bermuda shorts, a Van Halen T-shirt and black sandals with plaid socks was coming down.
“I looked all over this damned rock and couldn’t find hide nor hair of that stupid vortex,” he was muttering under his breath.
“A vortex isn’t something you see,” Durango told him. “It’s an energy field. You have to feel it.”
The guy snorted, mumbled something about New Age fruitcakes and took off down the trail.
“Well, he was friendly,” Abby said. “Not.”
“People like him show up all the time. They’re usually from a big city. Rushed, in a hurry, looking for a short cut to inner peace. They hear about the restorative power of the vortex and they think it’s a ticket to instant enlightenment. But there’s no such thing.”
Abby cocked her head and studied him. He looked at peace and she was happy for him. “You seem to have come a long way in the enlightenment department.”
“Hey, it was either get peaceful or drive myself nuts holding on to grudges.”
“Did you have a grudge against me?” she dared to ask him.
“What do you think?”
“I’m thinking yes.”
He nodded. “I was pretty hurt at the time. I thought we were working on something special, but it turned out I was wrong. Just goes to show you how foolish teenagers can be.”
“Not totally foolish,” she said huskily.
“No?”
“I thought we were working on something special, too.”
He eyed her speculatively. “But when the going got tough and you got going…”
“What can I say?” She shrugged and tried not to let him see how much her lack of faith in him still bothered her. “I was a scared kid.”
“You’re not a kid anymore.”
“No.”
“But you’re still scared.” There was that grin of his again, more wicked than ever.
The sun beat down. The air was alive with electricity. Abby felt something then. She didn’t know if it was the famous vortex energy or if it was energy of a much more tangible kind, but her skin prickled and her nerve endings tingled.
Durango’s chest was rising and falling in a rapid rhythm that matched her own edgy breathing.
A tangle of complicated emotions skirled inside her, spiraling outward in an expanding circle, drawing her to him.
Their eyes met and the moment was straight out of some romantic movie. His gaze locked with hers and Abby couldn’t catch her breath. Her chest literally hurt with the intensity of wanting him.
The vortex was sucking her in. Pulling her down into a place she wasn’t so sure she wanted to go.
Run! Run! cried the cautious side she’d inherited from her father.
Stay, stay, inveigled her mother’s Gypsy blood.
“Durango,” she whispered.
“Angel.”
He reached for her.
She walked toward him.
He wet his lips.
She pursed hers.
He took off her hat.
She looked into his face.
Oh wow, oh boy, oh no.
And Abby just knew he would have kissed her if she hadn’t picked that moment to start sneezing.
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