Born to Be Wild by Donna Kauffman

been. She didn’t look at Zach.
    He shifted the truck into four-wheel drive and headed out across the empty field, using the huge “land for sale” sign posted by the roadside as an open invitation to make himself at home.
    He didn’t stop until the road noise was a distant hum and the grass wheel-hub high. A broken-down fenceline, an old abandoned barn, and a topless silo were their only company. That and the soft rolling shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
    Zach dug out a blanket, spread it across the bed liner in the back and popped open the cooler. He appeared at her door a minute later, and without a word swung her into his arms and lifted her into the back of the truck in one graceful motion.
    “Help yourself,” he directed as he braced one hand on the open tailgate and vaulted into the back.
    Dara took him at his word, more to give herself something else to concentrate on than because she was really hungry.
    She discovered she was hungry as she yanked several aluminum-foil-wrapped packages and a six-pack of soft drinks out of the cooler and arranged them on the blanket. Starving in fact.
    Talk about other things. That’s what they needed to do. Discuss the camping trip, get him to tell her aboutsome of the wild things he’d done. She could tell him about some of the wishes she’d seen fulfilled at the foundation. The sort of stuff friends would talk about. Talk. Period.
    “I hope you like cold cuts.” Zach took a bag of chips and a bunch of grapes from the cooler then flipped over the lid as a makeshift table.
    “It all looks fine.” They arranged their plates in silence, which was surprisingly free of tension. Maybe it was the warmth of the sun seeping into her bones, the languid, lazy feeling of being out in the middle of nowhere on a beautiful day. With the cooler between them, they both settled back against the black plastic storage compartment that was built in behind the cab and rested the plates on their stomachs. The last of her muscles uncoiled and relaxed. Maybe she’d finally gotten through to him. It wouldn’t be so hard after all to keep things platonic.
    “Dara.”
    She’d been staring up at the cloudless sky, concentrating on the soothing feeling of the gentle breeze on her skin and the heat of the sun on her face. Calm and unguarded, she turned to Zach. “Hmm?”
    “Open your mouth.”
    “Wha—?” The question was cut off by a plump grape, which Zach pressed gently between her lips.
    “Good, huh?”
    She chewed the juicy fruit and nodded warily when his fingers remained on her lips a bit longer than necessary. She had to stifle the urge to lick them and catch his taste too.
    “Have another.” He leaned over her, casting her body in the shade.
    She took the small bunch from his hands, popped the remaining three in her mouth, then handed him the empty stems. His grin was wide and free, and made her wish she hadn’t been so quick to stop him.
    No. Friends talked and laughed together. But she was fairly certain that they didn’t feed each other.
    “Sit up for a second.” He motioned her forward, then shifted to his knees, and unlocked the storage compartment.
    From her position she could see a few volleyballs, some rope, and some unusual-looking equipment she wasn’t familiar with. Before she could ask, he pulled out a rolled-up, multihued bundle and a large spool of string then quickly closed the lid. With his foot, he shoved the cooler to the side of the truck and began to unfurl the colorful roll.
    He smiled over at her as he stuck his finger in his mouth then held it up to the wind. “Perfect.” He unearthed another old blanket, rolled it up and laid it in the truck bed along the front of the storage box.
    “Lie down.”
    “I beg your pardon?” she said.
    He smiled. “Just stretch out and relax.” He reached over and flipped the sunglasses she’d pushed up on her head down to her nose. “You can do that, can’t you?”
    Dara bit her tongue; it was either that or