Northwest Romantic Comedies: Boxed Set Books 1-6

by Lia London

  “You’ve seen my normal game, then,” he quipped.

  With a playful shove, she moved him towards the tee. “Come on. Give it your best awkward shot. No looking awesome, now.” She wagged a warning finger. “I know it’ll be hard for you, but try.”

  She winked, and Crawford’s feet lifted off the ground. How had he never met a girl like Maris before? With the hundreds of women he’d dated, not one of them ever made him feel like this—awkward and awesome at the same time. He loved it.

  He placed the tee and swung with minimal wind-up, only half trying to be awkward. His ball bounced only a few yards past hers, but she let out a whoop.

  “Perfect!” cheered Maris. “See? We’re evenly matched!”

  “In my dreams, Maris. In my dreams.”

  As they chased their ill-clobbered golf balls through the course, Maris dropped her guard, and laughter came even more easily. Crawford’s laid-back personality stood in such sharp contrast to most of the people at Conway Comm, and for some unfathomable reason, he seemed to find her smart and worth listening to.

  It felt like being with Adi, only in a male, blond, insanely attractive version. The last bit proved a breath-stealer every now and then when he pulled a casual pose or let his eyes linger in hers a beat longer than normal. Fortunately, she could feign breathlessness from their walk up and down the rolling greens.

  Twice he brushed her hair back from her eyes, and Maris couldn’t stop herself from melting into his touch. His virility and tenderness scrambled her brain, and she knew she’d have to be careful when they were alone in the evening. Those hands of his could probably have her surrendering every standard she’d ever held. And yet she wanted to feel them in her hair, on her shoulders, down her back…

  As if reading her mind, Crawford placed his hand gently on her waist. “Ready for your last adverb? I’ve been saving this one.”

  Her whole nervous system fluttered at his touch, but she drew a deep breath and put on a solemn face. “Hit me with your best shot.”

  He grinned. “You read my mind. Go for accurately.”

  Her eyes widened with panic.

  Crawford mirrored her expression. “Is that not an adverb?”

  “No. I mean, yes. Yes, it is.” She grimaced comically. “I just don’t know if I can do it.”

  “You’re Maris Conway. You sealed the deal for the Annex. You got loads of rich people to donate stuff and then bid on it. My bet is you can do anything you set your mind to.”

  Her heart went spinning and singing through the hills like Maria in The Sound of Music. “All right. I’ll try it.”

  She teed up, made several practice swings, and then stepped back. “I don’t know about this.”

  Crawford came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Relax. You’ve got this. Hole in one.”

  Relax? She almost dissolved like putty in his hands, sinking back into his chest for a second until the zing of chemistry jolted her forward a step. “Hole in one. Yes, sir. Coming right up.”

  Wind-up, wind-up, wiggle, squint at the flag. Wiggle, wind-up, wind-up, wind-up—

  “Come on, Maris. I believe in you.”

  Whack!

  The ball soared into the sky along with her heart. He believed in her! Even if it was just for a dumb game of adverb golf, she sensed he really meant it, and—

  Crawford erupted in a jubilant yell, lifting Maris into his arms. “You did it! Sweet, you totally nailed it! Epic!”

  The surprise on her face had nothing to do with her first ever hole-in-one. Crawford held her so tightly in his powerful arms, and she hoped he never put her down again.

  Crawford refused to shoot the last hole, insisting they leave the game on a high.

  “Lunch is my treat. We need to celebrate your victory.”

  “But I think you actually won.” Maris heaved her golf bag onto the rack in the clubhouse.

  Crawford shook his head vehemently, sliding his bag into place. The red-haired girl at the counter would normally have activated his automatic flirt-mode, but Maris’ shining eyes put him in a happy trance. “Nope. Come on,” he said, tucking her under his arm. “My Mustang’s over this way.”

  “Mustang, huh? Let me guess: cherry red?”

  “You know it. Sweet, huh?”

  “What’s her name?” Maris asked.

  “How’d you know she has a name? How’d you know she’s a she?”

  Maris cast him a sideways glance, coy. “You’re that kind of guy.”

  Did she approve? He forced the swagger back into his step and withdrew his keys. “Today, she’s the Maris-Mobile.”

  She tossed her head back with a belly laugh. “Good thing my name isn’t Ermengarde, huh?”

  Pulling open her car door, he winked. “Then the Ermengarde-Mobile would still be carrying the prettiest girl in the Pacific Northwest out to lunch.”

  Maris struggled between sensations of thrilling chemistry, reckless abandonment, and the need for stability and safety. Crawford drove a little too fast for her sensibilities, but the power of the motor thrumming beneath them and the majesty of the wooded cliffs rising above them made her heart pound with excitement. She’d been straight-laced, boring, silly Maris for so long, but Crawford unraveled her hour by hour.

  Lunch at the nearby Big River Grill warmed her, as did Crawford’s interest in the homeless shelter project. He asked many questions about the day-to-day operations and helped her discover holes in her planning. By the time they pulled back into the resort, she couldn’t stop smiling.

  “You know, Crawford, you play the dumb jock, but you’re not as stupid as you think you are.”

  “Only half as stupid?” he teased.

  “Fifteen percent max.”

  His smile, always dazzling, took on a different shape, and the light in his eyes changed. “You’re nice to say so.”

  Maris leaned over the stick shift and tapped his nose. “I’m truthful. You should have figured that out about me by now.”

  He caught her hand gently in his. “Well, thanks.”

  Maris waited, unable to blink away from his penetrating blue eyes. He licked his lips, and her insides began a happy dance. Would he try to kiss her? Why had she asked for onions on her sandwich? Was the emergency brake going to stab into her ribs if she moved closer? Did she dare?

  “I …” He hesitated. “You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel …” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I’m more than a great body and a head of hair.”

  The sincerity of his admission sent wriggles of pleasure through her, and she feared she’d cry for joy. “Hair falls out, and middles get mushy. Looks don’t last forever, so I have to consider the whole package.” She blushed at her own boldness.

  Crawford’s eyes took on a pensive cast. “Axel and Oralee.”

  “Exactly. Who knows what they looked like when they were younger, but they had enough else going on to last all those years after their youth faded.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You’re a long-term thinker, aren’t you, Maris?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think about the big picture, what comes next, and way down the road.”

  Maris nodded, accepting the assessment.

  Crawford straightened his stance, as if struck by an idea. “You’re showing me I’m not as dumb as I think I am, so it’s my turn.”

  The gleam in his eyes alerted her to mischief. “What?” she asked, wary of his wry grin.

  “You, Maris Conway, are not as boring as you think you are. You can be spontaneous and crazy, too.”

  Maris snickered. “To prove it, I’d have to do something unexpected.”

  Crawford’s eyebrows bobbed up and down. “Have you digested everything from lunch?”

  “What? Why? You’re changing the subject.”

  “No, I’m not.” He opened his door to get out. “I don’t want you to hurl right when you’re about to prove to yourself that you’re an adventurer.”

  “I �
�� what?!”

  ***

  “I really don’t know about this, Crawford.” Maris trembled with a mixture of excitement and terror as they stood atop a platform in the resort’s Aerial Park. “I’m not a jungle cat.”

  “True. You’re more of a cute little ewok.”

  “My face is not even remotely fuzzy,” complained Maris. Why had she signed the insurance form and safety waiver?

  Crawford winked and leapt back a step onto the hanging plank bridge, just missing her playful punch. “Come on. It’ll give you a whole new perspective on life.” He held out his hand to her.

  “Crawford, I don’t know about this,” she said, tapping her fingers on her helmet. “Gravity and I are pretty intimate.”

  “Lucky gravity.” He wagged his eyebrows at her.

  “I mean I give in to gravity regularly. I’m a klutz. I always fall for it.”

  “Again, lucky gravity.”

  “Shut up!” she said, stifling a laugh.

  Crawford gripped the rope guardrails and stared at her. “Maris, I’ve been doing stuff with you for two days now, and I haven’t seen you fall once. You won’t even fall for my pick-up lines. You are a rock. Now come on. Let’s roll.”

  Maris flushed at his praise. “Okay, but not that route. There’s too many people.” She eyed a series of walkways where several children scrambled back and forth laughing.

  “Okay. That’s the kiddie run, anyway. Which one do you want?”

  Maris traced the lines with her eyes, but trees and wooden towers got in the way. “Um.” She dug a finger up under her helmet and scratched, stalling. “I’m not scared of heights, you know. Just falling from heights.”

  “Spontaneous, Maris. You’re an adventurer. You’re brave and daring. Which way?”

  To her left, she saw a zipline in the distance. That wasn’t happening, so she pointed tentatively to the bridge on the right.

  “Sweet! Lead out, Miss Maris.”

  She stepped onto the bridge, tensing at the way it swayed. With a white-knuckle grip on the ropes, she shuffled forward, careful not to rock the planks.

  Crawford jumped behind her, making the bridge wobble back and forth.

  “Crawford!” she screeched. “Don’t do that!”

  He sidled behind her, almost spooning, and chuckled. “I got you. Crawdaddy can catch you.”

  “Not if I drag you down with me. Landing on you wouldn’t be soft enough.”

  With adrenaline pumping in her ears and teeth grinding, she took larger steps, conscious of Crawford’s proximity. Whether falling off the walkway or falling for him was more dangerous, she wasn’t sure, but both were very real risks.

  He tucked up behind her again as they reached the middle of the path. His arm laced around her waist. “Don’t worry about what could go wrong. Look up. Look out at the possibilities.”

  The sweetness of his encouragement startled her, and she paused, studying his face and wondering where he hid the sage man who stepped out and spoke in such tender ways.

  His eyes shone and drifted to her lips before he turned back to the view. “Let’s check out the bit over there. We can pretend we’re squirrels.”

  Maris meant to eye him skeptically, but her gaze lingered on his ruddy cheeks and the eager curl of his lips. This was his element: dashing through the branches a la Tarzan.

  What a sorry Jane she would make, slipping off vines.

  More solid than the flimsy ropes and cables, Crawford’s arm became her security. “What’s all the gear for?” she asked. “If we’re just going over bridges.”

  “Keep going,” he urged, redirecting her grip to his hand. “Up ahead there—”

  “Oh, no. Not happening!” Maris gaped at a place where missing planks accentuated the chasm between the tops of the trees. Hanging between the sparse landings, blocks of wood dangled from cables. “I’m not swinging from one to the other. I always failed at the monkey bars in grade school.”

  “You’ll be hitched to the cable above. Here.” On cue, an attendant began fastening hooks to her, and she felt an uncomfortable lift of her torso.

  “Hey, can you not give me a wedgie, please?”

  “Want me to show you how it’s done?” Crawford reached for a wood block, swinging as if from a vine to cover the distance. The attendant yelped after him because Crawford was not yet connected to the cable, and Maris cringed at the danger for a second. But as he flew, carefree through the air to the next plank, she tried unsuccessfully not to picture him in a loincloth.

  Crawford, thankfully, misinterpreted her crimson cheeks. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” He worked his way back.

  She smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

  “You are really not supposed to do that,” groused the attendant, clicking hooks and harnesses into place on Crawford with expert speed.

  “Come on, Maris. I’ll take you!” With a whoop, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and kicked off, the other hand hanging on to the block.

  Maris screamed a throaty Tarzan yell and wrapped all four limbs tightly around him, feeling the wind rush through her hair and out of her mouth. A scrambling second later, they came to a stop, but she couldn’t peel herself from him. Or open her eyes.

  “I can’t believe you did that to me.” Her chin trembled.

  “Whoa, babe. Are you really scared?” He let go of the block to wrap his other arm around her tightly, which left them both dangling from the cable.

  Maris opened her eyes and screamed again.

  “Hang on, hang on. I’ll get us to the platform!” called Crawford.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she held on to Crawford in terror as he maneuvered them somehow to a solid platform.

  “We’re here. We’re here,” he soothed. “It’s safe now.”

  Maris peeked at the forty-foot drop with one eye and buried her face in his chest. “My idea of safe isn’t the same as yours.”

  Crawford hadn’t meant to frighten her, and now, as she clung to him with her whole body, he searched each of the possible directions to find the one that would be easiest for her to negotiate. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t let go of me again!” squeaked Maris. She tilted her head up, and he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.

  “No way. Not ’til you’re ready.” He bundled her closer. “You’ve got me in a vice grip, anyways. If you fall, we definitely go together.”

  “Good,” she barked.

  “You mad?”

  Her expression softened, but she didn’t answer.

  “Is it okay if we sit?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  “Are you going to put your legs down?”

  Maris glanced down as if registering for the first time that she held him in a full-body bear hug. She shook her head.

  “All right, then. We’ll figure this out.” Examining the hooks, ropes, and cables, he figured out a way to extend the lead enough to lower them into a sitting position, landing her on his lap like a giant toddler clinging to her father.

  “Maris?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Look at me, Maris.”

  She lifted her eyes to his.

  “Maris, I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall. We can stay here all night if you want, but I won’t let you fall, okay?”

  Maris shifted her arms upward to wrap around his neck, and their eyes locked.

  “I’ve got you, Maris,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable again. I’m so sorry.”

  She nodded and nuzzled her face into his neck.

  Her warm breath sent a shiver of desire through him until he considered the terrified woman in his arms. Maris needed a man right now, not a lover. He held her, stroking her hair, until they all but melted into one another.

  “You ready to move?” Crawford’s words held no impatience, but still, Maris burned with shame. How could she have freaked out like that? She wasn’t always afraid of h
eights.

  Reluctant to let go of his strong embrace, she hitched a shoulder. “Getting there. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who pushed.”

  His hand caressed her hair, and she longed to remove the helmet and nestle into him completely. “It’s okay.”

  “Maris, babe, some people are headed this way, and I think it’s about to get crowded.”

  Maris peeked over her shoulder and saw a new attendant in full protective gear and a dark green Skamania windbreaker bounding towards them.

  “You guys able to move along? I’ve got a party of five coming through, and …” He faltered as his feet touched down on their platform. “Are you hurt, miss?”

  “Only my stupid pride,” said Maris with a sniff. Avoiding eye contact with the newcomer, she extracted herself from Crawford’s arms, alarmed they’d been so fully entwined. “Can you give us one more minute?”

  “Sure.” The man swooshed back the way he’d come, ostensibly to tell the others to wait.

  Crawford brushed her cheeks softly with his thumbs, forcing their eyes to meet. “You okay now?” His smile was the kind given to a little child afraid of the monsters under the bed.

  Maris decided to give in to the role. “Can you give me a piggy-back somehow?”

  His grin spread wide. “We can totally do that. Here, let me fix this.” He adjusted their cables and leads, and she mounted his back with her legs tight around his torso and her arms hugging his shoulders.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes, Crawdaddy,” she said, mocking herself. She knocked her helmet into his lightly in a playful headbutt.

  “That’s my girl!” He laughed and launched them forward to another hanging wood block. They swung and landed on a tiny plank. Next came a leap into a hanging canoe.

  “Seriously?” She eyed it with distrust. “Is that to make the crash even bigger when we fall?”

  “It’s probably to contain the blood and body parts when they splatter,” said Crawford.

  Maris slapped the side of his helmet playfully. “You are not helping.”