“Holy shit. Holy shit,” she said as she helped him brush away the dirt and loose rock. “Wait a second. It’s a lockbox. We need a key, unless we want to use our shovels to destroy an artifact.”

“Hang on a second,” he said, reaching into the hole. He scooped dirt away from the underside of the box. “Aha.” He produced a small leather pouch. “No destruction necessary.”

“You are so sexy right now I almost want to have my way with you instead of opening this box.”

“Why not both?” Silas said, slipping an old-fashioned brass key from the pouch. “You do the honors.”

Maggie wiped her palms on her dirty jeans and blew out a breath. She lay down on her belly and finagled the key into the lock. “Are you ready?”

Silas lay down next to her and put his hand on her ass. “Now I am.”

It took some work and some muscle, but the key turned, and the lock opened.

“I’m so excited I feel like I might barf,” she whispered.

“Don’t barf on the gold,” he said. “Barf around the gold.”

“Let’s do this together,” she suggested, taking one corner of the lid.

“You’re just saying that in case we unleash some centuries-old mummy curse opening this box.”

“Well, now I am,” she said dryly.

“Hang on,” he said, putting his palm on the lid. “What do you think of October?”

“You want to wait two more months to open this thing?” she asked.

“No.”

“Okay. Then I think October’s a nice month,” she decided. “Cooler weather. Fewer bugs.”

“Good. It’s settled.” He patted the box. “We’ll get married in October.”

“This October?” Maggie temporarily forgot about the gold.

“I think the thirteenth has a nice ring to it,” he mused, brushing knuckles over her cheek. She felt the dirt transferring onto her face.

She swallowed. “That’s my mom’s birthday,” she whispered.

“Imagine that,” he said, nudging her chin up.

“I love you, Silas.” She barely got the words out before his mouth closed over hers. Before her heart sang. Before her body vibrated with the rightness of it all.

“I want you.” His words caused tremors in all the right places.

“Let’s go home,” she whispered.

“Maybe we should open this box first,” he said with a smug grin.

“Oh, yeah. That. On the count of three. One, two, th— Holy shit, Silas Wright, you sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

He gave her a celebratory slap on the ass. “Just imagine what I can do with the rest of your life,” he said, shoving his hand into the coins that glittered in the afternoon sun.

In the corner of the box, Maggie spotted a scroll of paper tied with a leather cord. Carefully, she withdrew it and worked the knot free.

“Silas!” she said, smacking him.