“Nah. That would have been your nerve.”
“Me?”
“You talked to me when no one else would. Even the waitress wouldn’t look me in the eye while she flirted with me.”
That was true. The woman had let her boobs do the talking. “Well, you sometimes give off a dangerous stay-away-from-me kind of vibe.”
“You read me right, then. And you still approached me.” He met her eyes. “You’re brave, you know that?”
While she liked the idea of a brave and courageous Jill, it just wasn’t true. A while back, she’d learned how to fake all the confidence and attitude. But brave? She didn’t leave the house without makeup and her hair done. And once, she’d cried when she accidentally stepped on a spider. Not because she’d killed it, but because her bare foot had touched it. She wasn’t brave so much as she was tough. Resilient. Growing up in the Davis household, she’d had to speak up to be heard above her parents’ constant praise of her brother.
Her childhood illness hadn’t helped. She’d been laid up in bed for an entire year of her life with a rare case of scarlet fever at age ten. Which had made team sports of any kind difficult. She’d had to fight with her overprotective parents to let her have a life.
All throughout her college life, she’d endured groping professors and classmates. She’d learned not to take shit from anybody. Which meant that she wasn’t brave but persistent. Tenacious. She’d tried not to care what others thought about her. Which made her wonder why she cared what Sam thought. Obviously, she was still a work in progress.
“I like that you think I’m brave.”
“What about my one thing?” He bent to press his forehead to hers.
“I’m not brave.”
“Try again.” He squeezed her hand.
“Okay, okay. Here’s what I mean. I really want to do the zip line but I’m afraid. It’s pretty high up. Don’t get me wrong—it’s exciting, and I’m going to do it. But it’s pretty high up.”
She released the truth in one breath. O-kay. Hadn’t really wanted to admit that. Sexy and surly strangers in bars were one thing, but heights. People fell from heights. It was far up. And high.
Much as she’d like to think she’d come pretty far from that ten-year-old stuck in a bed for a year, she wasn’t exactly an athlete.
“Let’s go.” He released her again and pulled on her hand. “Right now.”
“Wait. Where are we going?”
She was about to remind him that he’d been the one to pull back, and he’d happened to be right. Still, maybe... She’d definitely be willing to reconsider. No one had ever accused her of being closed-minded. But he tugged her past his trailer, too.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, barely visible to her as they crossed under a tree that blocked the moonlight.
“Now that’s the second time you’ve asked me. A girl could get a complex.”
“Just checking.”
He took out some kind of small pen from his cargo pants that was also a light. It lit up their path as they walked away from the trailers and farther up the hill. Toward the shed where they kept all the zip line equipment. Wonderful.
“No way.” She stopped in her tracks. “It’s dark.”
They hadn’t tested the night tours they’d planned yet. That particular offering was designed for the adrenaline junkie types. She was beginning to realize Sam was one. This was a bit of a problem because she was most definitely not. She had a hard time jogging.
“No kidding, Einstein. But that means you can’t see how far up you are.”
“Doesn’t matter. I know.”
The Tree Topper zip line was two hundred feet high. Eight hundred feet long. Speeds of about thirty miles per hour. She’d read the manual. Hell, she’d hired the engineers who designed it.
“This is designed so you can self-brake,” he said as if he’d heard her thoughts.
“I’m aware of that.”
“You can take it as fast or slow as you want. I’ll hold your hand and ride next to you.”
“What? So I can look weak?” She crossed her arms.
“Have it your way.” He started gathering the equipment from the shed.
“I didn’t say I was going to do this.”
She watched as he put on a helmet and wrapped a headlight around it, climbed into the harness and slipped on rappel gloves. He brought similar equipment for her. When she didn’t protest, he slipped the helmet on her head. Waited.
She stuck her tongue out.
“Nice. Very mature.”
He offered her the harness and she slipped into it, trying to ignore the way he’d intentionally brushed a hand against her bottom. She pulled on the rappel gloves, which felt a size too big. There was still time to back out. Claim a sudden raging PMS headache or the need for a bathroom break. But earlier today, the only way Zoey had gone across the zip line was with Julian holding her hand all the way on a parallel line. When she’d returned she was beaming, and probably not just because Julian had asked for her phone number.
“I changed my mind. I do want you to hold my hand and I don’t care who knows it.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “No one here but you and me.”
“But don’t tell the guys. I want them to think of their boss as adventurous, free-spirited and...brave. You know, like you do.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He fished something out of the backpack he’d thrown in the cart. “Here.”
It was a flashlight. “This is going to be enough light?”
“Point it that way.” He motioned with one finger.
She flipped it on and a beam of light flooded three feet in front of them. That didn’t seem to be enough light for her peace of mind and she bit her lower lip in a cross between fear and exhilaration.
Together they rode in the golf cart farther up the hill to where the first tree platform sat. Jill’s palms were sweaty and her heart skipped. She distracted herself by staring at Sam’s profile. In the shadows, he looked more intense than normal. What was the word Zoey had used? Scary. No. Jill wasn’t afraid of Sam and she had no idea why. He had talked her into doing something risky and thrilling. Something she’d always wanted to do. There might be fear in the action but she didn’t have fear of him. Not sure why.
Once they’d reached the platform, both secured in their harnesses and locked into position, Jill remembered something vitally important. “We’ve only had this tested once at night by the engineers.”
“Actually, I tested it myself. Forgot to tell you.”
She deadpanned. “You forgot to tell me.”
“That’s right.”
“When did you test it?”
“Last night. You’d gone home and the guys weren’t back.”
“You were alone up here?”
“Yeah. News flash. I’m not afraid to be alone up here, either.”
“But Sam. That wasn’t safe. Alone? What if you’d been hurt?” And what if she’d had the panties sued off her? She’d lose everything.
“I wasn’t.”
She’d recruited a bunch of former military men for this job, and it occurred to her that maybe she needed more insurance. Or a little mother hen talk with the men. Encourage them not to take too many unnecessary risks. Sam might not much care for his parents, but she’d be willing to bet her month’s supply of chocolate that if something happened to him, they’d want someone to pay and pay dearly. They loved him. Who wouldn’t? And they had to, right? It was in the parent contract. At least Jill knew her parents loved her. They said so. They’d just never once told her they were proud.
Sam was staring at her. “Ready?”
Was she ready?
Hell yeah, she was ready. It was time. She’d no longer allow fear to hold her back. Tonight she didn’t need anyone else to be proud of her. Sh
e was going to go ahead and be proud of herself. A year ago, when she’d first started on this venture, she could have had no indication that the road here would be quite this difficult. So many times before she’d failed in her other entrepreneurial attempts. And if she were being honest, she’d never taken a moment to celebrate all her small victories along the way. Instead, she’d plunged into the next challenge without hesitation. It helped ease the loneliness of having set up her life in a way where she hadn’t made room for someone special.
She stared from Sam to the zip line. From the zip line to the forest below, which in the darkness she couldn’t see. He was right—it didn’t feel so high. She loved this view. The bright silvery stars. The trees all around them, dark enough to appear a shade of purple.
She was going to fly.
“I’m ready.”
He held out his hand and she took it. And then they were off, gliding swiftly across the line, a little like flying. The wind whipped across her cheeks and stung her nose. She heard the whoosh sound of them traveling to the platform ahead, which rapidly approached. The ride was over faster than she’d imagined, and Sam deftly stopped them both at the second platform.
“Oh my god, that was amazing!” She was out of breath but in a good way.
“Yeah?” He grinned, switching them so they could return. “Now we get to go back.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. This time Jill might have forgotten all about the hand-holding except that he took her hand again.
By the time they got back to the shed and put the equipment back, Jill was high from the experience and full of sparkle and zest. She’d never get to sleep now, and certainly didn’t want anything to do with a spreadsheet. Given that she was beginning to see them in her nightmares, maybe she could take a much-needed break. It was still early. She could call Zoey and Carly. Maybe go dancing at the Silver Saddle. Or... Or maybe she and Sam could have sex.
Hey, she was here and he was here. She had a trailer. He had a trailer.
They were walking back to the trailers when Jill got up the nerve to ask him. “Why did you turn me down the other day? We were both here alone.”
He stopped walking and she nearly ran into him. “Because I don’t always make the best decisions. Even with the best of intentions.”
“Now you sound like me.”
“I doubt it.”
“Because I remember we said one more time, just to see.”
“I know. And then it occurred to me that you don’t need my crap.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m not a very fun guy most of the time.”
“Tonight was fun for me.”
“Guess I have my moments.”
They’d arrived at her trailer and he reached to tug on a lock of her hair. “Good night, boss. Thanks for being such a good sport.”
That’s it? Great. She almost felt like pouting. He was right. So mature. “Sure. Just don’t test anything else without telling me first. Or at least wait until I get some more insurance.”
“Roger that.”
Before she stuck her tongue out again, Jill shut her trailer door. She sighed, took off her jacket and toed off her shoes. Why did it matter so much? And why did she still want him? Zoey was right. Maybe he was dangerous. He did seem to enjoy living life on the edge. Taking long hikes on his day off. Apparently hoping to meet a mountain lion. Testing and crossing boundaries. Keeping himself apart from the other guys, who’d all made friends.
She never really saw him relax. Whatever he’d been through, it had to be haunting and painful enough that he’d been affected on an intimacy level, as well.
It could also be that he didn’t want her anymore. Maybe the boss label, and seeing her in action—let’s face it, kicking ass and taking names—had been a huge turnoff. Some men were like that, after all. Didn’t think women in positions of authority were sexy enough. Didn’t think they should have such power. She didn’t think Sam would be one of them, but it was entirely possible. What did she really know about him? Instead of working on her spreadsheets, Jill sat at her desk and started a list.
Things I know about Sam:
He likes dogs, Labradors in particular.
He takes his coffee black and hot.
He also likes cats and according to Zoey might be a cat person.
He likes redheads.
He’s not close to his family.
Someone hurt him...
Did he have any siblings? Cousins? Best friends? How many times had his heart been broken? Had he ever been married? Had he ever been in love? Did he binge on Netflix? Her bet was no. Was he a fan of the Niners or the Rams? Because that could be a deal breaker. With Ryan, that is.
There was a heavy knock on her trailer door. Dropping her list, she opened her door to find Sam.
He grinned. “One more time. Is that offer still open?”
Chapter Ten
“Y-yes.” Jill managed to stammer out. “Still open.”
He stepped inside her trailer without another word. Suddenly the room was filled with his presence. With his heat.
“What changed your mind?” Yes, yes. She asked even though it could cause Sam to reevaluate. But it needed to be asked.
“Trying to fix something.” He took a step toward her.
“Fix something? What are you trying to fix?”
In one swift move he stepped right into her personal space so they were practically toe to toe. “The problem I have making good decisions.”
“Okay, because this...this is a good decision.” She went on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck as she whispered the words she wanted to be true. “Right?”
No turning back now. No regrets.
“I have a feeling it’s going to be the best one I make this year. Maybe even this decade.”
Jill bit her lower lip. He was giving her a tall order. Good thing she felt up to the task. She’d been waiting for this moment since she’d seen him again. Her Chris. He looked different now. His hair was in need of a haircut as it curled around his ears instead of a military buzz cut. A day or two’s worth of beard growth dusted his chin and jawline instead of the old clean-shaven look. Her fingernails brushed against the bristle. It didn’t matter anymore that he was her employee because he hadn’t been the first time they’d met. And that relationship, such as it was, took precedence. It had established them.
That was her story and she was sticking to it.
He glanced at her cot. “That going to fit two?”
“Only if I sleep on top of you.”
It was a small bed. He was a big man. Allowances would have to be made. Sacrifices even.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” His mouth grazed her jawline and lowered to her neck, causing ripples of pleasure and anticipation.
He rubbed her lower lip with his finger before he finally bent to cover her mouth with his.
Her hands fisted in his shirt because his kiss made her knees weak. His tongue tangled with hers, probing, seeking, teasing. He tasted like minty toothpaste and whiskey. So hot. The kiss got wild and out of control within seconds. When he broke the kiss, his eyes were hooded. He studied her for one long moment from underneath those long lashes.
She stared, too, because she couldn’t believe this was happening again. “We have this...amazing chemistry,” she said, a little dumbfounded. A little weak.
His only comment was to haul her up against his body until they were plastered against each other in a lip-lock. Hips to hips. Heart to heart. The only way this could be any better was with no clothes between them. As if he read her mind, Sam tore off his shirt and threw it to the side. She did the same, leaving on her red demi push-up bra. Some said redheads should never wear red. Jill liked to test some boundaries, too, she supposed. Lingerie boundaries.
Sam certainl
y didn’t complain as his hot gaze took her in and seemed to like what he saw. His finger traced along the cup of her satin bra. He helped her remove it, then bent to kiss each freed nipple tenderly. But when he sucked a nipple in roughly, Jill nearly came right there and then. It had been so long since she’d been with anyone that she felt raw and new. Helpless. She wondered if it could be the same for him and found herself hoping. Maybe she wasn’t the only one in the room that felt her bones turn liquid.
He had a beautiful and strong sinewy body. Hard. Her hands took a tour of his naked back, dropping to his steely buttock and clawing to get him closer. Sam followed suit, his hands on her behind lifting her to him until she wrapped her legs around him. He carried them both to the cot, where he lay on his back and eased her on top of him. He’d taken her quite literally and she didn’t mind at all. She rather preferred being in the driver’s seat.
She rose to pull off her jeans and matching red thong. He smiled from the cot, hands splayed behind his neck, enjoying her striptease.
“Hot.” He dragged his teeth over his lower lip.
She helped him remove his cargo pants and he stripped down to nothing at all. He was much better, bigger and harder than she’d remembered. Leaning and reaching into her desk drawer, she pulled out the box of condoms she’d bought in a trusting moment and handed one to him. He ripped it open with his teeth. Her breath hitched as she watched him roll it on, stroking himself once. Unable to contain herself, she stroked him, too, and his eyes rolled back and closed.
He gripped her hips then and pulled her on top, thrusting into her with one long and powerful stroke. She took over, joining him in a rhythm all their own. Heat blazed a trail from the inside out making her tremble, and Jill held on to his broad shoulders for dear life. She bucked and thrust as a rising pressure built and like the tide refused to be held back. Then he slowed them both down, purposely holding back. She could feel it, and she bucked against him for more.
Jill had her answer at long last.
It wasn’t the mojitos.
It wasn’t San Francisco.
It was all Sam.
More than One Night Page 8