That Touch of Pink

“You know if you don’t get both of these badges in the next six weeks, you can’t go on to the next level in The Bluebonnets.”

“I know.”

“And Caitlyn will be going on ahead of you into a more advanced group with a different leader. Remember she’s getting her last badge at the next meeting?”

The little girl nodded. “But it’s okay. Grandma told me that disappointment is part of life. And growing up means learning to live with it.”

“I let you down. Sweetie, I’m so sorry—” Abby’s voice broke.

“It’s not you, Mommy. If my daddy had come back like he promised, he’d have taken me camping. But he stayed in California. I’m six now. I’m big enough to understand.”

“I wish I was,” Abby mumbled. “Why did you come up here? Did you need something?”

“You need to tuck me in. It’s time for bed.” Her voice broke on the last word and her chin started quivering just before she disappeared through the opening.

Riley felt like pond scum. Slimier than pond scum. Both of them were close to tears. Damn it to hell. If he agreed, he would have to hang with Abby overnight. That was a bad idea, outdoors or anywhere else. And if it was just her, he could have stuck to his guns and pulled out of the op. In the Rangers, he’d worked and trained and prided himself on being the toughest of the tough. But nothing had hardened him enough to say no to a six-year-old who’d already gotten a bum deal.

Charm was no match for a little girl’s tears.

“Okay.”

“What?” Abby turned her big brown eyes on him.

If he hadn’t already caved, he’d be in danger now. “I’ll take you and Kimmie camping.”

She blinked, then the corners of her mouth curved into a brilliant smile that turned her killer dimples loose on him. She threw herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

She felt way too good, soft in all the right places and he was relieved when she pulled away.

“What do we need to bring?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll bring the equipment. You and Kim be ready at six a.m. on Saturday morning.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“That’s Navy. Yes, sir, will suffice.”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir,” she said, brown eyes shining.

That look backed him up a step. It was the same one she’d had just before throwing her arms around him. He wanted her to do it again; at the same time, he knew it was a very bad idea. Because if she ever hugged him again, he knew he’d really get into it. He’d pull her as close as he could get her and press his mouth to hers.

Bad didn’t begin to describe this situation. He just hoped he didn’t regret this decision.

Abby glanced at Riley’s impassive face and wished she knew what he was thinking. Scratch that. It would probably be better if she didn’t know. She watched a sleepy Kimmie play with the soggy cocoa cereal in her bowl. They were already behind schedule because Riley had spent ten minutes disapproving of their attire. Capris were bad—legs need to be covered in heavy-duty material to prevent scratches and bug bites. They’d changed into jeans. Their shoes were an accident waiting to happen—sandals gave no support or protection. They’d changed again.

She watched him watch Kimmie. “If I’d known there was a dress code, I would have followed it.”

His gaze swung to hers. “Noted.”

“Okay, Kim, I think you’re finished,” she said, sliding the bowl off the table and carrying it to the sink. As quickly as possible, she dumped the remaining light brown milk and cereal, ran the disposal, then put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. “We’ve already disrupted Mr. Dixon’s schedule.”

“It makes good sense to set up camp in the daylight,” he said.

His delivery was so smooth, Abby almost missed the subtle sarcasm. “Then we’d better get a move on.”

Kim rested her cheek in her palm. “I’m sleepy, Mommy.”

“I know, sweetie. But you can sleep in Mr. Dixon’s car on the drive.” She looked at Riley. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Sure.”

The little girl hopped off her chair and grabbed the box of cereal that was almost as big as she was. “I’ll take these for a snack later.”

Riley took a step away from the doorway where he’d been standing for the last ten minutes. “That’s a negative on the cereal.”

She blinked up at him. “Does that mean no?”

“It does.”

“But why?”

“Because it’s empty calories.”

“Huh?” she said, scratching her head.

“It won’t maintain your energy level. Besides,” he continued, “we’re hiking in to where we’re going to camp. That box is too bulky and we have more important things to carry.”

“Apparently my cosmetics weigh a ton,” Abby said, lamenting the little makeup bag she’d been ordered to leave behind.

One corner of his mouth curved up when his gaze met hers. “That’s not essential.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” Thank goodness she’d remembered the lack of electricity and left out her blow-dryer and hot rollers. The humiliation would have been too much.

“You’re lucky I let you talk me into that cream stuff.”

“Thank goodness my moisturizer has an SPF fifteen.”

“To protect your skin.” His voice turned gruff. “But the rule is if you can’t eat it or use it for shelter, it’s not a necessity.”

“I eat chocolate cereal,” Kimmie said hopefully.

He looked at her. “The benefit doesn’t outweigh the negative.”

“This is where I remind you that The Bluebonnets only require us to spend one night living off the land. It’s okay to relax your standards for us civilians.”

“Relaxing standards can compromise a mission. After we hike to the campsite you’ll thank me.”

Kimmie looked up at him. “But the box isn’t heavy.”