Sinful Ever After (Romance Collection)

by Vivian Wood

  He glances up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Will it keep you from doing your duty? Because I’m telling you here and now that if you don't do this, you will be pulled from ranger status. Other people would be involved, a committee. We would have to do a serious, deep review of your case.”

  I suck in a breath. That is the last thing I want, obviously. This job and the friends I’ve made here are basically the only things that I have.

  “No sir,” I say, dropping my gaze back to the rope.

  “She’ll only be here for a couple of months.”

  My mouth opens in surprise. Rachel is awfully far from home. In fact, she’s in my home, and I feel like I’m being invaded.

  If I were you, I would consider asking Ms. Black what I could do to make her stay more comfortable and her trip more successful.”

  When I don't say anything to that, he clears his throat.

  “Look at me.”

  I look at him, his face concerned.

  “Tell me that you will try, Grayson.”

  “Yes sir.” The words slip from my mouth unheeded, but I mean them.

  I will try, if trying is what is needed to keep my job. Being a park ranger is the only thing I can do without completely, totally fucking it up.

  “Good man.”

  Seemingly satisfied with the work he’s done on the rope, he sheathes his knife and drops the rope bridge back into place. I let go too, my mouth twisting up. As he walks by me, he claps my shoulder.

  “See you in the dining hall for dinner.”

  Nate strides off, no doubt ticking me off a to do list that’s a thousand items long. I pat the rope bridge, trying to figure out what I will do.

  How do I even begin? Do I just tell Rachel I’m sorry?

  Like that would ever be enough penance for what I’ve done.

  With that on my mind, I head for my cabin.

  Chapter Five

  Rachel

  Aiden doesn’t say anything to me until we get close to the cabins.

  I’m keyed up. As if I’m not already anxious about my new surroundings, there is the one person I never expected to see, looking awfully at home here.

  Though I feel a bewildering amount of different things, the predominant one is anger.

  How dare Grayson be here?

  And how will Aiden try to explain it away now?

  Steaming silently, I follow Aiden as he shows me to the cabins.

  I am careful where I step as we move into the midst of them, each one looking exactly the same. Brown roof, brown walls, light blue front door. Each of them is barely bigger than a closet would be back home.

  I shiver, for the first time wondering if I made a mistake in coming here. After all, I imagine the pristine light colors in my living room and think…

  I am not in Oz anymore, that’s for certain.

  “We’re looking for number seven,” Aiden says. I eye him, carrying my bags as if they are weightless when I know for a fact that they aren’t.

  I grimace. How in the hell did he and Grayson end up out here, of all places? My mind whirls, trying to figure that out.

  I keep my thoughts to myself, hitching the suitcases I carry a little higher.

  “Right here,” Aiden nods. He steps up to the door of the little cabin, looking positively giant standing beside it. He wrangles the doorknob, sweeping it open and stepping inside.

  I could be back at home, I remind myself. I could be marrying Clay right now.

  Swallowing my bitter thoughts, I follow Aiden inside the cabin. He sets down my luggage beside the front door, taking an audible breath. The inside is just as humble as the outside appears. There is a twin bed, a fresh pile of linens folded on top. There’s a dresser and a desk with a chair.

  Over everything, there is a fine coat of dust. This place hasn’t been used in some time, it seems.

  “So…” he says. “This is it.”

  I set my bags down. “I see that.”

  He slides me a glance. “Do you maybe want to talk about Grayson?”

  I send him a withering glance. “Do I want to talk about the man that abandoned me five years ago? No Aiden, I don't. As far as I’m concerned, that man stopped existing back then.”

  It’s a partial lie. I want to know the why of the whole thing desperately, but I am too flustered to even begin with my questions.

  He wraps his muscular arms across his chest. “That’s more accurate than you know.”

  I raise my brows. “Oh, is that right? Well that’s good because seeing the old Grayson after all this time would be… distasteful.”

  Aiden rolls his eyes at me. “To my recollection, you weren’t this uptight in New York. When I met you, you were just a college student who was completely in love with Grayson.”

  Drawing myself up to my full height, I look icily up at him. The disparity between his height and mine ruins the effect somewhat, but I refuse to be cowed.

  “Are you done telling me about what I used to be like when I was in college?” I ask. “Because I’d like to get settled here. Alone.”

  If I’m feeling dangerous, it’s only because Aiden has trapped me here. I suddenly feel put on the spot and I don’t like it one bit.

  He rears back just a little. I can see that moment in Aiden’s eyes, the instant where he silently calls me a bitch. That split-second reevaluation where he wonders if he has got me all wrong.

  I live for that moment. I don’t like being bitchy, but it is the only way that I can create distance. Distance from the needy little girl that I once was, a girl who was completely head over heels for Grayson.

  I am not ever going back to being that person.

  Never, ever again.

  That person needed too much and trusted too deeply. I’ll never be so stupid and careless with my own heart again.

  “Fine,” he says, looking annoyed. “Dinner is at six in the mess hall.”

  With that, he turns around and leaves, slamming the door behind him. Good riddance. If I don’t want to talk to Grayson, the same goes for his best friend.

  I look around, drawing a deep breath. Taking stock of the cabin and my luggage, I start to unpack my stuff. First things first, I have to dust every inch of this cabin. Then I can put things away properly.

  Stepping out of my heels, I hunt for a t-shirt in my bags. Then I dust everything off, even the inside of the drawers. The whole time I am nearly shaking with anger.

  Grayson is alive. Good for him.

  But now I have to interact with him. Worse, I’ll be forced into spending the entire summer with him. I just can’t conceive spending my summer camping out with him, sharing meals with him.

  God, even worse. We’re supposed to go out and track each water source down, just the two of us.

  But if I complain, my father will use that as a premise for clawing me back to New York. And I don’t know much about this world, but I do know that it’s not New York. It might be the opposite of there.

  And that makes me feel safe. Although… with Grayson here, I don’t know how safe I ought to feel.

  What am I going to do?

  My phone buzzes. I ignore it.

  Wracking my brain for a solution, I unpack most of my things.

  I long for someone to talk to as I unpack, but… the closest thing I have to a friend back home is Sarah. And she works for my parents, so…

  Yeah, I’m so not calling her.

  The cabin doesn’t have a closet for hanging anything, which I suppose makes sense. There probably aren’t a lot of people who come through here with full outfits on hangers, ready to roll. From just a few seconds of exposure, it seems like more of a hiking boots kind of place than a high heels one.

  My phone buzzes again, prompting me to turn it on silent. When I check the screen, I have two missed messages from Clay and three from my mother.

  Clay makes my gut twist, but nothing is so unsettling as the fact that I know I am going to be okay. I should be hurt, I should be angry.

  But all I fee
l about Clay is unsettled.

  I’m saving all that anger for Grayson, I guess.

  I check the time, frowning when I realize that the meal is only twenty minutes from now. I dig through my drawers for just the right outfit. A new pair of Columbia Sportswear hiking boots and socks, a flattering pair of olive shorts and an ivory tank from Patagonia, topped with a light pink rain jacket from the North Face.

  I would look at myself in the mirror, but there isn’t one in my cabin. There probably isn’t one in this whole damned camp, come to think of it.

  I still. Grayson is alive.

  Closing my eyes, I feel myself shake.

  I mean, I had heard rumors that he was okay, but seeing it with my own eyes… it just fills me with a confusing amount of resentment and relief. It takes me a couple of minutes to gather myself, but I finally open my eyes again.

  I do my best with my mirrored compact, touching up my makeup and fixing my hair. I bite my lip. My full face of makeup won’t fly for longer than today. I’ll have to leave the foundation off and the concealer, probably the bronzer too. God, I have to make so many adjustments in the next few days.

  I just hope I can still be cool and impartial while learning to adapt. I’m just a girl, who’s made the only choices left to her. Maybe I feel a little regretful over those choices, but hey.

  Sometimes you just do the most prudent thing you can going forward. I don’t regret that.

  I take a deep breath and step out of the little cabin, trying to get my nerves under control.

  Yes, I will see Grayson again. And yes, I will probably have to pretend to be nice to him. But it doesn’t matter.

  I’m great just the way I am. I’ve spent the last five years making myself an impenetrable fortress, making myself bulletproof. My armor was Gucci and Armani, luxury planes and European vacations. I threw myself into my parents’ world, tried to use makeup and pushup bras to create a new person.

  I take a breath. Even if I might be having doubts about joining my parents’ company, even if I am confronted with the man that undermined my will, I will never be weak again.

  Resolute, I head the same direction as I see other people going. There are about five other people that I can see heading to a massive cabin in the middle of the campsite. So that’s where I go too, wishing that I had any idea where anything was. Aiden was probably tasked with making sure that I knew the lay of the land, but I dismissed him before he could say anything about it.

  Like so many things I do, it’s coming back around to bite me again.

  Straightening my spine, I walk up the steps to the mess hall. I hear voices and laughter before I even reach the barn-style doors. Putting on my most regal, ice-queen stare, I stride into the room.

  It smells like food in here. More specifically, like spiced ground beef and corn tortillas.

  There are probably thirty people in this large, high-ceilinged space. Most of the people are clustered around the banquet tables at the opposite end, serving themselves. A few people are already sitting, talking and laughing and digging in.

  “Ah, here you are!” Nate says, entering the cabin from behind me. He claps me on the back, unintentionally surprising me.

  “Here I am…” I say, taking pains to keep my expression neutral.

  “Come, get some tacos! We don't provide any meat on the trail, so get your fill now,” he suggests, ushering me toward the taco station. “Then you and Grayson can talk about what you are planning to do over the next few days at base camp. You head out in five days!”

  I serve myself at the taco station, trying not to turn my nose up at the food. It’s ground meat or shredded chicken, served atop tortilla chips or in a tortilla shell. Then there are toppings, refried beans, and rice. To top it all off, there is beer or water to drink.

  I am used to eating meals prepared by a private chef. But I did know that part of running away from New York and living in the woods meant no more meals catered to my specific tastes.

  So I get a small plate and fill part of it with chicken, then add a little rice on the side. Then I add a soft taco shell to my plate. After grabbing a glass of water, I turn toward the tables. Nate is right there, waiting patiently with his huge pile of chicken nachos and a frosty glass of beer.

  I don't mean to grimace, but I can’t help that I grit my teeth as Nate steers me over to a picnic table where Grayson and Aiden are already sitting. Grayson appears to be ignoring us, busy stuffing his face with a taco. Aiden looks up at me from his plate, but says nothing.

  “Hey guys,” Nate says, plopping down beside Grayson. I’m left to sit on Aiden’s side, beyond nervous.

  The last time I shared a meal with Grayson, he told me he loved me.

  Now, five years later, he looks like he wants to be as far away from me as possible. He leans down and shovels food in his face as fast as he can.

  God. He’s being a coward about this, which only makes me more angry.

  I silently pick at my chicken, having no appetite.

  Aiden sends a glance over me, frowning a little. “You’ll want to eat up. Tomorrow, you have to pass the fitness test. By the end of that, you’ll be longing for a taco or ten.”

  I pause, my fork in midair. “A fitness test?”

  Grayson looks up briefly, pinning me with those blue eyes of his. My mouth goes dry. I squirm a little in my seat.

  “Yes,” Nate says, holding a chip up and pointing it at me. “It’s the National Park Service test. We have to ensure that you’re healthy enough to be here. So you’ll run a few miles, do the ropes course in a set amount of time, blah blah blah. It’s easy.”

  Biting my lower lip, I discreetly look around. I see muscles everywhere under mounds of drab colored clothes. Everyone in this room is more in shape than I am, without a doubt. What if I don't pass the test?

  God, that would be the most embarrassing reason to have to go home.

  “If you say so…” I mumble, eating the forkful of food.

  Nate nods, inhaling another few chips. “Then you’ll need a course in wilderness survival, a CPR and medical training class, and a general day of classes about parks. You know, basic orientation. We do one thing a day, which makes five days total. Then you are off! It’ll be fantastic.”

  Grayson finishes the plate of food in front of him and stands up. He starts to bus his dishes without saying a word. Nate looks at him with something like disapproval.

  “Grayson, don't you have something to say to Rachel?” he asks pointedly.

  Grayson looks at me, locking eyes with me ever so briefly. He grumbles out a sentence. “See you at sunrise.”

  Sunrise? My eyebrows lift. Then Grayson bustles off to put his plate in a bus bin, leaving Aiden to try to cover for him.

  “He’s super tired,” Aiden says, rolling his eyes at Grayson. “He’ll be more lively in the morning.”

  Nate yawns and then puts some more tortilla chips in his mouth. After munching for a minute, he apologizes. “We are pretty much early to bed, early to rise around here. I know it’s probably not what you are used to…”

  “It’s fine,” I rush to reassure him. “It’ll just take a few days, I bet. Then everything will be better.”

  Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m reassuring him or myself. I make eye contact with Aiden, who just shakes his head a little. He rises from the table.

  “See you guys later.”

  I’m left sitting with Nate, who covers his mouth for another yawn. Then he smiles at me.

  “You’ll get acclimated pretty fast,” he says.

  I just nod, eating more chicken.

  I hope so. As soon as I possibly can, I jump up and clear my plate. Then I hustle back to my cabin.

  Safe within the walls of that tiny cabin, curled in my bed, I allow my thoughts and feelings to overwhelm me. There where no one can see or hear me, I let myself cry, sobbing silently into my pillow.

  I cry for myself, for the situation I’m in.

  I cry because Grayson seems unaffected
by all of this.

  But mostly I cry for the people that we used to be. Young, stupid, wild.

  And most of all, free.

  I fall asleep with tears still on my cheeks, clutching at my pillow.

  Chapter Six

  Grayson

  I wake earlier than anyone else at base camp, glistening with sweat and breathing hard. I can still taste the ashes that rained down on me after the first IED went off. I can still feel the desert heat of the early evening.

  Standing straight up from my hammock slung between two trees, I try to breathe through my racing heart and let my eyes adjust. Because of the natural canopy over the campsite, it is almost pitch black. I check my watch and see that it’s four in the morning.

  Hell, sleeping until four am is better than most days for me. Usually I’m up by two or three, sweating and shaking, repeating my mantra and looking for some mind-numbing work to do.

  In the early morning hush, I quietly go about my business. I’m trying not to think about the past, but I just can’t seem to do anything else.

  Looking at Rachel makes me relive all the guilt that I’ve been trying to meditate away. Looking at her last night, she is still looking as poised as I ever saw her and so beautiful she could steal my breath away in an instant. That is my first thought; that I have missed her, or at least missed being so close with someone.

  But close on the heels of that feeling is a blinding sort of guilt.

  This was my always and forever girl. The only girl I’ve ever whispered those three little words to.

  I close my eyes and breathe out sharply. I thought that I meant those things, but… maybe my young, stupid heart was wrong.

  I have to wonder, though. Where did all the heat and wonder and spark in our relationship go?

  I wash up in the solar-heated group shower, groaning at how the hot water hits my sore muscles. I stand under the shower’s spray and try to breathe.

  Probably down the same hole that took my dignity and my self-respect, the second I woke up in that military hospital in Yemen. The truth is that I hate myself now, and I have to think that I always will. I’m disgusted by how weak I was, then and now.