he whispered. “I only wish to feel your skin against mine and listen to the beating of your heart. It calls to me as sweet as the song of the whippoorwill.” Having nothing as profound to say in return, Andi opted for silence. “Did you hear that?” “Of course I heard you. I’ve just never had someone say anything like that to me before.” Michael shook his head. “I heard a noise outside.” Andi’s spine went rigid. “An owl or an opossum, I suppose.” He shook his head again. “A coyote, perhaps?” Andi’s throat tensed. What else can it be? “Put these on.” Michael handed her a black T-shirt and a pair of boxers. They froze as something scraped the edge of his truck. “Stay here.” Andi grabbed his wrist. “That’s what they say in the movies before something jumps out and eats everybody.” Michael was amused by her nervous ramblings. Shaking his head, he grinned. “I’m sure it’s just a coyote. I’ll be right back.” He was gone, zipping the tent closed behind him.
