Chapter 438: We Could Stay
Chenghai kept my feet in his lap while he opened the cooler.
Apparently, the food inside wasn’t only for later. He pulled out containers of fried chicken, pasta salad, sliced peaches, and several thick sandwiches wrapped in paper. There were also two bags of chips, chocolate bars, and enough bottled drinks to keep us alive on the porch for several days.
I looked over everything. "How long were you planning to keep me here?"
"Until you wanted to leave," he replied seriously, not looking at me as he continued to pull out our picnic.
I wonder if he knew that that could have meant an hour or three weeks.
Instead of warning him, I took the fried chicken.
Chenghai opened the container for me and placed it on my stomach before returning both hands to my feet. His thumbs pressed slowly into the arches while I ate, working out soreness I hadn’t noticed until he touched it.
The man had spent most of the date throwing me through mud and freezing water. Now he was rubbing my feet while I ate chicken on a blanket.
It was a confusing system.
I approved of it.
The farmhouse porch faced west. The sun had started lowering over the field, turning the broken windows gold and stretching long shadows across the muddy track. From where I sat, the off-road vehicle looked small and harmless.
That was a lie.
Chenghai reached into the cooler and took out a sandwich for himself. He ate with one hand while the other stayed wrapped around my ankle.
His clothes were still wet from the creek. The clean shirt he had put on me covered most of my body, but he hadn’t brought another one for himself. Water continued drying across his chest and shoulders, leaving his skin warm beneath the late sunlight.
I ate another piece of chicken and watched him.
He noticed.
Chenghai didn’t smile or ask why I was staring. He only shifted my legs higher across his lap, giving me a better view while he continued eating.
That was considerate.
The porch creaked beneath us whenever the wind moved through the field. It sounded old but not ready to collapse, which was good enough for the apocalypse.
A bird landed on the railing near the cooler.
It stared at the chicken.
I stared back.
The bird hopped closer.
"Don’t," I warned, even as it tilted its head. I wasn’t willing to share my chicken with my vines, I definitely wasn’t going to give it to a bird.
Chenghai tore a small piece from his sandwich and threw it into the grass.
The bird flew after it.
I looked at him. "I thought we’ve already had the talk about feeding things."
"That one doesn’t have teeth."
"It has a beak."
"It’s smaller than the vine."
"That’s how it tricks you."
The bird returned after eating the bread. Two more landed beside it.
Chenghai looked at the growing group.
I held the chicken container against my chest. "You caused this."
He threw another piece of bread farther into the field. All three birds followed it.
"They’ll come back."
"Then we’ll finish eating first."
That was probably the smartest thing anyone had said all day.
We ate while the sun continued dropping. Chenghai passed me the pasta salad after removing most of the vegetables I didn’t like. He gave me the larger half of the last chocolate bar without pointing out that it was larger.
I noticed anyway.
By the time the birds returned, the chicken was gone.
One landed on the railing and stared at the empty container.
"See?" I said. "Now it’s disappointed."
Chenghai closed the cooler. "It’ll recover."
"You don’t know that."
The bird shit on the porch and flew away.
I looked at Chenghai.
He looked at the spot beside his boot.
"That was aimed at you," I told him.
He used an empty napkin to clean the porch without arguing.
The sky changed while we sat there. Orange spread across the field, followed by darker red near the trees. The broken farmhouse threw a long shadow over the track Chenghai had built, hiding most of the mess we had made.
He leaned back against one of the porch posts and pulled me with him. I ended up across his lap again, my back against his chest and his arms loose around my waist.
His shirt hung awkwardly around my thighs, but it was soft and warm now.
I rested my head beneath his jaw.
For several minutes, neither of us talked.
Chenghai didn’t seem to need constant noise. He was comfortable sitting in one place and watching the light change without trying to turn it into a conversation about the future.
I liked that too.
His hand moved beneath the shirt and spread over my stomach. The touch stayed lazy, his thumb moving over my skin while the field slowly went dark.
"Did you know this place was here?" I asked.
"I passed it before."
"When?"
"In the first life."
I looked up at him.
Chenghai’s eyes stayed on the field. "There was an evacuation route nearby. We used the service road when the main highway became blocked."
That explained why he had found the place so easily.
"Did you stop here?"
"No."
Of course he hadn’t.
In the first life, they had always been moving toward someone who needed help or away from something that wanted to kill them. A field, a creek, and a broken farmhouse wouldn’t have mattered unless they could be used for supplies or shelter.
Chenghai’s fingers moved higher across my ribs.
"I remembered the road," he said. "I thought you might like the track."
"You built an entire track because you drove past a field years ago?"
"Yes."
"That’s a little insane."
His mouth touched my temple. "You liked it."
I looked at the mud covering the grass, the vehicle waiting near the farmhouse, and the creek hidden behind the trees.
"I did."
Chenghai’s arms tightened around me.
That was enough conversation for both of us.
The sun disappeared behind the trees, but neither of us moved. The porch stayed warm from the day, and insects began making noise in the grass. Somewhere near the creek, a frog started calling loudly enough that it sounded angry.
I shifted until I faced Chenghai.
His hands settled on my hips as my knees rested on either side of him. There was no mud between us now, although his shirt still carried several marks from where I had wiped my hands across it earlier.
I touched one of them.
"You’re still dirty."
"So are you."
"I’m wearing a clean shirt."
"It was clean."
"Then you gave it to me."
His hand slid beneath the bottom edge and moved over my bare back.
The little conversation died there.
I leaned down and kissed him.
Chenghai caught the back of my neck and kept me close while his other hand pulled my hips firmly against his. He didn’t start slowly this time. His mouth opened over mine, and the quiet porch disappeared beneath the heat of his body.
My fingers moved through his damp hair.
He lifted me from his lap without breaking the kiss and lowered me onto the blankets. The porch boards pressed beneath the cushions, but Chenghai kept one arm behind my back so I barely felt them.
His mouth moved down my neck.
I looked past his shoulder toward the dark field. The road was empty, the farmhouse remained silent, and the only thing watching us was one bird sitting on the roof.
I pointed at it.
Chenghai followed my hand, picked up an empty chip bag, and threw it.
The bird flew away.
Then he came back over me.
His hand moved beneath the shirt again, higher this time, while his mouth returned to the spot below my ear.
I closed my eyes and let my legs open around him.
Chenghai’s breath changed against my neck.
He lifted his head long enough to look at me. "Stay here until dark, or leave now?"
The sun was already gone, but enough light remained to find our way back to the SUV.
We could pack the cooler, change clothes, and drive home before the field became completely black.
Or we could stay on the porch until neither of us cared what time it was.
I pulled him down by the back of his neck.
"We could stay."