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impressed.”
    “Homework, I can do. Finding money lying around under rocks, not so much.”
    He smiled. “If the idea is good, the financing will fall into place.”
    “So would you finance my start-up?”
    “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
    “So would you?”
    Scott chuckled. And got a sweet whiff of what was left of her perfume or hair stuff or whatever it was. “Show me a well-thought-out business plan and we’ll talk.”
    “You’re not just saying that because you’re figuring we’re gonna die here and then you’ll be off the hook?”
    “We’re not going to die, Christina.”

    She snuggled closer, her arm banding his ribs as she whispered, “Do you know I’ve never told another living soul about this?”
    “Not even your mother?”
    “Especially not my mother.” She paused. “Since she’s shot down everything I’ve ever tried. Or ever wanted to do. Not exactly a big cheerleader.”
    “That’s rough.”
    “Eh,” she said on a shrug, “it taught me early on to be self-reliant. ’Course, that doesn’t make an ideal mate, either. Prob’ly why I haven’t been on a date in, oh…two years?”
    Gal was definitely getting tired, Scott thought with a weary smile of his own. Inhibitions shattered and all that.
    “Two years? Really?”
    “Yep.” She yawned. “Got tired of the stupid games. Of meeting a guy and thinking he’s nice, only to find out he automatically expects something in return for taking me out to dinner. That he’s not even remotely interested in getting to know me as a person.
    Sucked.”
    Bitterness, dulled and worn, veneered her words. And provoked him into defending his sex. “Not all men are like that.”
    “Then maybe I’m just lousy at picking ’em,” she said, her accent getting heavier the sleepier she got. “But you know? I’m okay with being on my own. It’s kinda nice, being able to make my own decisions about what’s best for me without having to swing ’em past anybody else.” This last bit was accentuated with a sweeping arm gesture before she snuggled closer, rubbing her cheek against his chest. Damn.
    “You’re awfully young to be so cynical,” he said into her dusty hair.
    She shrugged, clearly unperturbed. “Better than havin’ my head in the clouds.”
    She yawned again, one of those double yawns that signified that sleep couldn’t be far behind. Yet despite her soft voice, her words were clear. “I’m a realist, Scott. I know who I am. Where I came from. Maybe not exactly where I’m going, but close enough. What’s in my control and what’s not. Like…if I never get married, maybe I’ll…adopt someday.” She hmmphed tiredly.
    “Never told anybody that, either.”
    And the longer she talked, the more her honesty seemed to wrap around his soul, nourishing something inside him he hadn’t even known was hungry. “Were you always this wise? Or has experience made you this way?”
    “Hell if I know,” she said, and he laughed. “But I am a real firm believer in being true to yourself. In knowing who you are and what you want, and then doing your best to make those two things work together. Long as you understand the road between points A and Z might not always be a smooth one.”
    At that, Scott held her closer, resting his cheek in her hair, as if doing so would help him absorb some of whatever it was that had so firmly grounded her. “What if…you get so entrenched in Point A you can’t even see Point Z? What if you’re not even sure what Point Z is?”
    He could sense her tilting back to look at him, even though he couldn’t imagine what she’d see in the murky light. “Seems to me all you need to know is that where you are in your life? It’s not working anymore. And then have the guts to do something about it.
    Because way too many people get so caught up in doing things the way they’ve always done them, living the lives they’ve always lived, that they don’t even know they’re unhappy. And that, to me, feels