She wasn't completely certain he'd show up for their planned outing, not after she'd bolted from his bedroom three days earlier. Three days. It felt like a lifetime. Three days where she'd been unable to think about anything but Peeta Mellark, about the tender way he'd touched her. The possessive glint in his blue eyes when he'd filled her and fucked her and shattered everything she thought she knew about herself.
She wasn't certain she even wanted to see him again, wasn't sure she wanted to tempt fate that way. Spending time with Peeta was like playing with fire, and she was afraid of getting burned.
But he'd respected her boundaries, intuited her need for space, even though she hadn't said a word. He'd given her room to think, but hadn't abandoned her completely. A few flirty texts, a meal dropped off after an exhausting day, reminders that he was there but no pressure.
He understood her, and that was maybe the most frightening part of all.
Despite that, when he texted to tell her to be ready at nine, she'd felt a frisson of excitement. She wanted to see him, wanted to spend time with him. Wanted all of that laser focus pointed her way again.
She didn't know what to expect when she opened the door. Would he kiss her with that barely restrained passion, like he had last time? Would he play it cool, irritated by her earlier dismissal of him and what they'd shared? Or would he make her choose their path?
Peeta was leaning against the doorframe, smiling down at her with those warm blue eyes, no trace of anger on his handsome face. "G'day, love," he said softly. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
He did kiss her, but just lightly, a promise of more. And his genuine happiness to see her made her stomach swoop. "Ready?" he asked.
They drove out of town again, the morning sky a hazy orange. "Are you taking me hiking?" She'd love to be back in that cool mountain air, missed the woods terribly, though the smoke would make the inclines more challenging.
But Peeta chuckled. "You don't want me to get predictable, now do you?" He was predictable, a little, but in a good way. She'd already come to expect his kindness and selflessness. But she merely grinned and waited.
The drive was short, twenty minutes and they were pulling off the highway onto a dirt track that snaked into the trees. Part of the magic of Australia, Katniss was finding, was how fast it turned rural. One minute you were in a town, the next, in the middle of nowhere.
Peeta pulled off the dirt track onto an even narrower and less road-like road. Katniss was thankful his SUV had good suspension but she was a little wary about what kind of adventure he was planning so far off the beaten path. "This adventure has nothing to do with serial killers, right?"
He laughed out loud, warm and pleased. "Don't you trust me, love?"
A low building, painted blue and bordered on two sides by fences of what looked like corrugated metal, came into view between the trees. Not a restaurant or a museum, that was for sure. Still, Katniss held her tongue. Because she did trust him. She didn't trust many people but Peeta had somehow gotten under her defences.
He parked beside a pair of blue and white pickup trucks with wire caged beds, and held her hand as he led her to the building's door. Inside was a sort of makeshift reception area, a statuesque blonde in khakis standing behind a melamine counter. When she glanced up, she broke into a supermodel smile. "Peet," she called, circling around the counter to approach them.
Katniss wondered if the glamazon was one of Peeta's former conquests. It seemed like she was going in for a hug, or maybe more. Katniss wasn't one for jealousy, she never got attached enough to feel it. But the tightening in her gut could be nothing else.
Peeta, though, kept hold of her hand, and the gorgeous woman's smile widened when she noticed. "You must be Katniss," she said, and Katniss felt her eyebrows lift. "I'm Madge." The women shook hands and Katniss noticed a thin golden band on Madge's left hand. Then she felt silly for her possessiveness all over again. "Welcome to our wildlife rescue."
"I'm sorry?" Wildlife rescue? It made sense, Katniss guessed. Madge was dressed kind of like the crocodile hunter from that old TV show.
"And you look confused," Madge said, but her smile wasn't mocking at all. Katniss had the unfamiliar thought that this was someone she'd like to have been friends with, in a different world. "Peet, didn't you warn her at all?" There was a fondness in Madge's voice, under the exasperation.
Peeta shrugged, but his grin didn't slip. Madge turned her attention back to Katniss. "We rescue and rehabilitate injured wildlife here, particularly with the bushfires. Peet and the other firies bring us a lot of our patients."
"Reckon being Canadian you've never seen a koala up close. And I figured this would be more your thing, instead of a zoo," Peeta said and his smile was still wide but Katniss could see that little sliver of uncertainty. It mattered to him, whether she was pleased to be there.
Her heart did another slow tumble. This was definitely more her speed. He'd figured her out so damned easily.
"I never have," Katniss admitted, flashing Peeta a shy smile before turning back to Madge. "Are you a vet?"
"I am," Madge grinned, leading them back past the counter. "And you're a vet for humans," she teased.
And Katniss laughed.
"We don't let the general public back here," Madge continued, "but we'll make an exception for you. Reckon you'll know not to stress our patients."
They spent hours, gloved and gowned, visiting the sickest of the animals inside the shelter and those a little closer to being ready for release in the outdoor enclosures. It was sobering to see so many injured animals, so many burns especially, and so many that, like their human counterparts, were struggling with smoke inhalation.
Katniss fed orphaned wallabies and helped change bandages on fire-maimed wombats. She even got to hold a koala, an old fellow named Sparky who was blind and too docile for release back into the wild.
It was an incredible day.
Easy conversation flowed between the three of them, and Katniss left the rescue with a full heart and a new number stored in her cellphone.
Katniss hadn't had a lot of friends growing up, girlfriends especially, and that hadn't changed in adulthood. Prim had always been her closest confident. Beyond that, there was Annie, who she'd known for years, and Johanna back home who'd pretty much forced her way into Katniss's life. A couple of people she knew well enough to meet for drinks once in a while. But Madge felt like a kindred spirit. And Katniss had the distinct impression that Peeta had anticipated that, not just that she and Madge would get on, but that Katniss was feeling lonely and maybe needed someone.
Katniss reached across the centre console as they bounced along the rutted drive, back to civilization, and set her hand on Peeta's thigh. He glanced at her, grinning. "Thank you for today," she said quietly, voice choked with emotion. "It was everything."
Peeta set his own hand on top of hers and squeezed. "No worries,'' he said, with more gravitas than the flippant words suggested. "You had a good time?"
"I did," she smiled. "But it's more than that. And I think you know it."
He glanced at her again, and again she saw that flicker of vulnerability in his expression. He looked back at the road, and Katniss flipped her hand to twine her fingers with his. "I really liked Madge," she admitted.
"Yeah, she's a beaut," he said fondly. Katniss didn't feel jealous about that anymore. Peeta and Madge had indeed dated, Madge had mentioned it while they'd eaten a cold lunch in the centre's breakroom. And somehow knowing they'd dated and were still so friendly with each other made Katniss feel more comfortable. When this thing with Peeta ran its course, there wouldn't be any hard feelings.
"So where to now?" Katniss asked, grinning. It was only late afternoon, and she was riding a wave of feel-good endorphins. Spending more time with Peeta sounded pretty great.
"Where would you like to go?" He was smirking in that cocky way he had, but Katniss could feel the underlying weight of the question. He wanted her, she knew he did. But he was leaving the choice to her.
She squeezed his hand. "I'm not ready to let you go just yet," she admitted.
"My place?"
"Yes."