He rubbed the back of his neck. “You were so adamant about not calling me, and then you did, and I’m glad you did, but you sound like something is wrong.”
“Maybe it is,” she said softer. “But not because I’m scared of the dark.”
Could she be more frustrating? “Addy, you’re freaking me out here. Please tell me what’s wrong, or I swear I’ll be up that mountain faster than you can get pissed off at me for doing it.”
She laughed. “Right now that’s not exactly a threat, because I miss you a lot. More than I probably should.”
He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against his building. “I miss you, too, baby, but you should miss me. That’s what girlfriends do.”
“Yeah, I’m getting a real good dose of the whole girlfriend thing right now. I just opened the journal.”
He was wondering when she’d open it up, and he wasn’t sure how she’d react to his note. “And?”
“And…it’s a good thing you’re there, because I kind of want to throw myself at you right now.”
“That is not a good thing. Want me to come up?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
Hope sparked inside him.
“But I need to do this alone, Jake.”
He bit back the terse response vying for release. “Right. Listen, I’m out on the sidewalk. Let me get up to my place and call you right back.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Addy, I want to. You’ve been on my mind all day. I just don’t want to stand on the sidewalk while we talk.” After they ended the call, he took the elevator up to his apartment, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and headed out to the terrace as he called her back.
“So this is what it feels like to miss a boyfriend?” she said without saying hello.
“It’s pretty new for me, too, this whole missing you thing.”
“I don’t hate it, but it’s hard on the heart. So tell me, boyfriend, where do you live, anyway?”
Jake stretched out on the lounge chair of his penthouse terrace. “I’ve got a little place not far from yours.”
“I’m trying to picture what your place might look like, but all that comes to mind is us lying on a blanket on the bluff. What’s your place like?”
He smiled with the memory of her freaking out when Gabriella’s relatives showed up at the villa the morning after the wedding. “I’ll show it to you when you get back from your trip. What are you doing right now?”
“Lying down outside my tent, looking up at the stars. Please tell me about your place. I want to picture you there.”
“Why is it impossible for me to deny you a damn thing?”
She laughed. “I don’t know, but I’ll use that to my advantage someday.”
He missed her so much, he ached with it. “I hope you do,” he said honestly. “I bought this place from my college buddy Jett Masters. He’s a real estate investor, and when I told him I needed a place in the city where I could live outdoors, he hooked me up.”
“Live outdoors? What did he do, walk you down to a bridge and point to the space under it?”
“No. He showed me to a rooftop apartment. His brother Dean owns a landscape design business, and he created an outdoor living space complete with a lawn, plants, rock gardens, and a covered sleeping deck, which is where I am now.”
“So, you have a penthouse? I can’t even picture you in a penthouse.”
He took a swig of his beer. “Neither can I, which is why I also have a cabin out by my parents, but I can’t exactly hang out with my brothers at a bar and then drive, now, can I? Besides, this isn’t a penthouse. It’s a rooftop apartment, and it was the only way to get this outdoor space. I wish you were here right now, lying next to me.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Me too.”
He listened to her breathing in comfortable silence, maybe even necessary silence, while they each dealt with the strength of their connection.
“Tell me a secret,” she said. “Something no one else knows.”
The answer came without thought. “I can’t stand being away from you.”
“Jake.” His name came out breathy.
“I’m serious, Addy. For months I tried not to think about what it would be like if you were mine, and now that we’re together it’s like everything I tried not to think about exploded into epic proportions.”
She went silent again.
“Too much honesty?” he asked, taking another drink of his beer to settle his nerves.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
He heard her smile again and pictured that sweet vulnerability in her eyes, wishing he was there to see it firsthand.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that a girl who doesn’t want to be told what to do is with a guy who uses terms like ‘mine’?”
“No.” He finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the deck. “You want your independence, but you need someone strong enough to know you really want more.”
“You think you have me all figured out.”
“Hardly. We click, Addy. We feed off each other in a way I never knew was possible, and you feel it. I know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be on the phone with me right now.”
She was quiet again, and he waited her out. When the silence stretched too long, he worried he’d pushed her too far. “Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll back off.”
“No, you won’t,” she said just above a whisper. “Because you can’t. The same way I can’t.”
He closed his eyes, reveling in her confession. “Let me come to you, Addy. Let me spend the next ten days experiencing your first hiking trip with you.”
He was answered in silence again.
“Addy, don’t get scared off.” Damn it. He shouldn’t have pushed.
“It’ll take more than that to scare me off,” she said softly. “But I should go. I need to conserve my phone battery or my boyfriend will worry. I’ll text you tomorrow night.”
He sat upright, his emotions lodged in his throat. “Wait, Addy. Don’t go—”
She’d already gone.
Chapter Twenty
GOD DID NOT make muscles for climbing mountains. That much was obvious. Addy rolled onto her side early Tuesday morning, wincing in pain. Her shoulders ached, her legs were on fire, and her stomach felt like small children had been using it as a trampoline. She inhaled the crisp mountain air and pulled her sleeping bag around her shoulders. Big mistake. She sucked in a sharp breath at the ache in her upper arm. She wasn’t used to hiking, digging, or carrying the equivalent of a large man on her shoulders.
She rolled onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling of her tent and thinking about how cowardly she’d been to end the call with Jake so suddenly. She hated that her need for independence was so deeply rooted her first reaction to his thoughtful suggestion was to clam up. But what had scared her even more was her second reaction, the one that had made her end the call. She’d wanted to agree to having him join her so badly, she knew if she didn’t hang up it might slip out.
Pushing up to a sitting position, and groaning in pain, she refused to allow herself to pick up the phone and call Jake. It wasn’t fair for him to have to deal with her mixed-up emotions. She needed to get her butt out of that sleeping bag, find the stream, stop wallowing in that crazy middle ground, and clear her head. I’ve got miles to cover, wilderness to conquer!
And a man to miss! He was definitely right. Every single thought led right back to him.
And…she had to pee.
Badly.
As she rose to her feet, her muscles retaliated, making her walk like Frankenstein, and she emitted pathetic whimpering noises with every step. She dug the Motrin from her first-aid kit, downed it, and unzipped her tent, bristling against the morning chill. Her bladder hurt she needed to pee so badly. She could brave a little chilly weather. After talking to Jake last night and then writing in her journal, she’d had just enough energy to strip off her shorts and pass out. She slipped her feet into h
er boots, which she’d left just outside the tent, and headed into the woods. Something wiggled beneath the sole of her foot and she screamed, kicking and shrieking as she hopped on one foot, sending her boot flying across the campsite. She grabbed hold of a tree to steady herself and lifted her foot to inspect the bottom. No bites or evidence of whatever evil creature had stowed away in her boot for the night. But now she had to pee even worse. Half tiptoeing, half hopping, she went deeper into the woods, paranoid about something—anything—crawling on her, but there was no way she’d go in search of her boot until she peed. She found a spot behind a group of bushes, dropped her panties, and crouched. As sweet relief took hold, she realized she’d forgotten toilet paper.
Great.
Nothing like a drip-dry morning.
She slipped off her skivvies and peered around the bushes. What the hell am I looking for? Visions of animated deer popped into her mind. Laughing at herself, she half tiptoed her way back to the tent and cleaned up down there, put on clean underwear and shorts, grabbed a hoodie and slipped it over her head. She tugged on thick socks, and wearing only one boot, she tiptoed and hopped in the direction of the boot she’d flung.
At least she’d forgotten about the pain in her muscles.
Her pink boot lay on the ground looking eerily out of place among the dark leaves and twigs. Her mind spiraled back to Jake. Was this the type of scene Jake came across when he was searching for a missing person? A single piece of footwear lying in the forest? The desperation of such a sight caught hold, and pieces of Jake continued falling into place. He wasn’t just being overprotective. He lived out his worst fears every time he went searching for a missing person. Only now it’s me he’s worried about. Guilt settled into her achy muscles.
She retrieved her boot and shook it out. Nothing but a few pieces of a twig fell out. She bent back the tongue and peered into it, fishing around inside for any lingering stowaways of the four-or-more-footed variety. Thankfully, whatever was in there had vacated. She wiped off her sock and shoved her foot in the boot, making a mental note to keep her boots inside the tent from now on.
Back at the tent, she brushed her teeth using bottled water, gathered her toiletries and soap in a backpack, tossed in a water bottle and a hand towel, and headed in search of the stream. Addy wasn’t big on north, south, east, west, but she knew she’d walked straight up the mountain and the stream should be off to her right.
Birds took flight overhead, their noises amplified in the peaceful forest. Shielding her eyes from the morning sun, she watched them fly away. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken the time to watch birds do anything, and took a moment to enjoy her surroundings. The scent of pine and damp earth hung in the air, so different from the smells of the city. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and focusing on the serenity around her, and the ache in her lower back and legs. It was good pain. It meant she was pushing herself outside her comfort zone. The sounds of the stream trickled in and she opened her eyes. How had she missed that sound before? She followed the tranquil sounds to the wide, rolling stream and set her supplies at the edge of the water. As her mind revisited Jake, she told herself this was just what she needed, a few days of pushing herself out of her comfort zone without the constant barrage and hustle and bustle of the city.
But she wasn’t buying it as earnestly as she had a few days ago.
With a quick scan of the area to make sure there were no animated deer watching, she stripped off her clothes, grabbed her soap, and stepped into the stream.
“Holy cow!” Lifting her feet in quick succession, as goose bumps raced up her body like scales, she hurried into the middle of the frigid stream and washed up in the icy water. She crouched, hoping no fish decided to explore her private cavern, and rinsed the soap off as fast as she could. Her teeth chattered, but this was good, too. She was roughing it. Now she could say she’d done it.
Running out of the water was worse than being in it. Shivering, she dried off with the washcloth, wishing she’d packed a bigger towel, and tugged on her shirt and sweatshirt. She realized she’d forgotten her bra and made a command decision to forgo bras for the rest of the trip. That seemed like prize enough for making it through an achy body and frigid bath. Her feet were muddy, which presented another problem. She couldn’t put on her underwear without getting it muddy. Bare-assed, she carried her boots and towel to the water’s edge. She spied a log and headed for it, telling herself she could figure this out like she did everything else.
She set the towel and her boots on the log, which was only about six inches from the water’s edge, and stepped into the water to wash off her feet. See? Easy. After rinsing them off she stepped over the muddy shore and onto the log. She wobbled, but managed to sit on it while she wiped off her feet. She swatted at something crawling up her leg, then her hip, then—holy shit—there were ants everywhere—crawling along her butt, her thighs, her lower back. She ran into the water, holding her shirt up to her neck and swatting at the offending bugs, shrieking at the top of her lungs as she tried to scrub them off.
By the time she got back to her campsite, hair drenched, sweatshirt not much drier, she was frustrated and achy and angry at herself for not thinking ahead enough to have her morning routine figured out before plunging into it. That would never happen again.
She changed into dry clothes, brushed her hair and tied it back in a ponytail to avoid any other creatures latching on to her, tied a rope from one tree to another and hung her wet clothes on it, and started a small fire to boil water for coffee.
Lots of coffee.
She nibbled on an energy bar and skimmed through the journal pages she’d written in last night. Though she’d started out writing about her hike up the mountain, she’d ended up writing pages and pages about her feelings for Jake. Once she began, her emotions had flowed like a river. Her feelings were real and frightening. And unfair to Jake. She had to learn to handle them like she handled everything else in her life. Head-on.
Setting the journal aside, she took a selfie for Jake, adding the caption Wilderness beauty at its best. Day two has arrived, and I’m ready!
She stared at the words she’d typed. They were not at all what she felt. It took all of her courage to delete what she’d written and give voice to the truth, but once she started, it got easier with each word. I’m sorry I chickened out of our conversation and hung up. I’m sure you want to come up here and drag me by my hair into a cave and make me listen, but I have to learn to listen to myself before I can listen to anyone else. I miss you. Truly I do. Thanks for being patient with me. She sent it off and opened the journal again. Her phone vibrated seconds later with a text from Jake, and she couldn’t open it fast enough.
If you find the secret to making my sexy girl listen, please share it with me.
She smiled, relief consuming her. Feeling luckier than she ever had, she typed a response that she knew would make him smile, too. Where’s the fun in that? She added hearts and a smiley emoticon, and then typed, Turning phone off again to conserve battery. NOT hanging up on you. xox.
Feeling more at ease, despite her rough start to the morning, she made coffee, reveling in the way Jake seemed to understand her. As the hot liquid warmed her from the inside out, she realized he sounded as though he knew her better than she knew herself. It was time for her to get to know Addison Dahl.
She pressed pen to paper, more of her heart pouring out.
I never imagined that wanting my independence so badly would make me afraid to let any piece of it go. Thinking of her grandmother, she wrote, You taught me to own my pride, my lust, my anger, and I wear those things like badges of honor. And now I’m here alone, and I can’t stop wishing Jake was here with me. I’m greedy for him. For his time, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands on my skin. Even for our banter, because that’s what makes us who we are. I can’t pretend those feelings that I’ve never had before haven’t consumed me since our very first kiss. But giving in terrifies me, becaus
e I look back at you and Mom and I know I can’t survive the kind of relationships you had, and I’m afraid of backsliding. Of letting him in and then becoming the very person I fear.
She closed the journal and drew in a deep breath, wondering if she was destined to spend her life fighting to retain the independence she’d worked so hard to claim—or fighting against it.
JAKE STEPPED FROM the shower to answer his vibrating phone after a late run Tuesday evening. He wrapped a towel around his hips as he read Addy’s text, and headed in to the bedroom. How’s my Neanderthal?
He stood at the end of his bed and texted, Just got out of the shower after a long run. Miss you. You okay?
She responded immediately. I was until you put THAT image into my head.
Wish you’d been in it with me. He ran a hand through his hair and took a selfie, capturing the cocky grin she teased him about straight down to the towel around his hips and sent it off with the text Does my girl want to play?
He sank down to the bed and her answer arrived the second he hit the mattress. He drank in the selfie she’d sent, of her body from the neck down. She was lying on a blanket wearing a blue sweatshirt, unzipped to expose the smooth skin between her breasts. No bra. Nice. Her hand rested on her thigh, her finger tucked just beneath the fringe of her cutoffs.
“Oh yeah, baby, you want to play.” He leaned back against the pillow, relieved that she was safe, and typed another text. Slide those fingers into your panties and send me another pic.
He was hard just thinking about her touching herself. He took off his tented towel and fisted his shaft, giving it a long, tight stroke. His phone vibrated and he opened the text one-handed, admiring the image of her, shorts unzipped, her hand pushed down between her legs. His pulse spiked, and he stroked himself again as the next image rolled in of Addy with her shorts off and her fingers resting on her sex.
“Fuck, sexy girl. You’re killing me,” he said as he texted the same words. Then he took a picture of his hand wrapped around his cock and sent it. You wanna play? I’m all in, baby. He grabbed a bottle of lotion from the bedside table, poured some in his left hand, needing his right to text, set the phone on his abs where he could see the picture of his dirty girl, and wrapped his hand around his shaft again. His phone vibrated with a picture of Addy’s sweatshirt unzipped, her beautiful breasts on display and one nipple between her finger and thumb.
Rescued by Love (Love in Bloom: The Ryders): Jake Ryder Page 20