A wry smile twisted his face, but the eyes softened. "I wasn't the one running away. And from what - a little kiss?" He leaned forward, his hand finding her waist, and drew her toward him. "You know what? I don't think you're as afraid of me as you are of your own feelings."
A quickening pulse was enough to confirm his statement. She twisted away from his hand. "Stop it."
Instantly the hand dropped and he turned back down the trail, speaking over his shoulder.
"Come on, I think you've seen enough to convince yourself that I have a valid point when I say it's dangerous to wander in the woods."
She followed him without comment. What could she say? He was dead on when he said she was more afraid of her emotions than him. One thought had been gnawing at her consciousness since the first time she suspected him of being involved in drugs. If he was, that made twice she had been attracted by a man who was doing something illegal. What was it about them that drew her too them? As much evidence as there was to the contrary, she couldn't believe Yancey was involved in drugs. Nothing she had seen indicated he was using drugs. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't involved. Allen didn't do drugs either - as far as she knew. He only sold them - for money. Yancey had money. So, was it the money that attracted her? Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't true. Money usually traveled with a companion called trouble. People were always buying trouble.
Yancey walked ahead of her. In spite of his size, his steps were light, as if he chose every one carefully. His attention moved smoothly from the trail to the area around him and back. Occasionally he glanced behind him, as if searching for someone, or something, that might be watching. He never looked directly at her, but the way he held back branches was indication enough that he knew she was there and was thinking of her.
"This really wasn't a good idea," he said after a while. "You'll get ticks and chiggers all over you."
"They never bothered me that much. I think it's something about my body chemistry that they don't like."
He glanced back, his eyes mocking her. "They probably smell the danger. I'm beginning to think you're and adrenalin junkie."
Maybe he was right. Of course, she didn't leap cars with motorcycles or sky dive, but in retrospect, she had always been attracted to danger - at least to some degree. She had always thought of it as the thrill of intrigue, but maybe it went a little deeper than that. Maybe that was the attraction she felt for people like Yancey and Allen. She stared at his back. Tossing the two of them into the same thought brought out the contrast. In spite of all the evidence, Yancey still came out as a responsible adult. Maybe it was because Allen was younger, or because Yancey had a child. Something deep inside said that if Allen were six years older and had a child, he'd still be as irresponsible as he was now. Then again, if Yancey was dealing with drugs, he was endangering his mother and child. How responsible was that? Why were the police tight lipped about him? Was it because of an ongoing investigation? They might have considered her an innocent bystander in her relationship with Allen, but being on the sideline again would, at minimum, make them suspicious.