by Nicole Helm
He really was a fascinating man. And she had no business being fascinated, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop.
“We should plan an overnight session,” he said in that brisk, demand of a voice.
“Overnight session? I don’t understand.”
“Hiking is your strong suit,” he said brusquely, reminding her of how he talked with clients on Mile High excursions. “It will take a long time to train you to do any rock climbing, but even if we did that, I don’t think that’s where your talents will be best used at Mile High. It would benefit us as a business to have a woman who could handle some of the overnight trips. Some female groups might feel more comfortable. So, I think we need to start training you in the camping element. Which means . . . overnight.”
He wasn’t looking at her at all now. He was looking back out at the mountains. His eyebrows were drawn together as though he were confused, but she was the one who was confused.
They’d been arguing about non-work stuff, and now he was saying that she needed to camp with him? Overnight? Because it would be good for business?
Hayley didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t know what to do with him most of the time though, so perhaps this was par for the course. Getting back to normal.
“So you’re going to take me camping. Overnight.”
He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I’d prefer it if you let one of your brothers do it, but I agreed to train you, so if you won’t compromise, it’ll be me.”
Something odd fluttered in her stomach, something she was slowly beginning to recognize. Fear and attraction and . . . spending the night with him. Holy crapola.
She took a deep breath and tried to remind herself this was business. He specifically mentioned Mile High business. “I . . . I don’t think I’m ready for my brothers to do this sort of thing. Half brothers.”
“Then what night do you want to do it?”
To go on an overnight camping trip with Sam by herself. She swallowed. “Any night you choose, I guess. My schedule is wide-open.”
Sam gave a stiff nod. “I’ll check my schedule and let you know which night would be best.”
“Oh . . . okay.”
“Now are we going to work today or what?”
He started walking toward his Jeep. The plan had been to watch him lead a kayaking trip, with her in the back of his kayak. Apparently, they were going to pretend like the whole argument about friendship hadn’t happened.
Hayley was off-kilter enough to let that go.
Chapter Twelve
Sam was exhausted. Leading the challenging kayak excursion, while also trying to teach Hayley a thing or two about leading, had taken its toll.
Possibly also taking a toll, the knowledge he was going to take her on an overnight camping trip.
Damn it all, Hayley Winthrop was taking a toll.
She was a force of nature he didn’t know how to navigate. He knew how to deal with thunderstorms and blizzards and climbing rock faces and basically fighting elements at every turn. But Hayley was a whisper. She was a little pebble, falling down a cliff, that you thought couldn’t have any effect, but eventually grew into an avalanche.
It was weighing on him. If he was honest with himself, at least 75 percent of that weight was being attracted to her and knowing how completely wrong and inappropriate that was.
But those dark eyes tinted with green and gold damn well haunted him. Everywhere he looked, he could picture her there. She had infiltrated every space of his cabin at some point—sat at his table, ate using his utensils. The only place she hadn’t touched was his bed, and if he thought about that—
Yeah, no.
So instead of eating dinner at his cabin after Hayley left, he headed back down to Mile High headquarters. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping to accomplish by going there. He just had to be somewhere Hayley hadn’t touched with her I think you’re scared of me and those stare-downs that seemed to go on forever.
That he needed an escape was disturbing on every level, but better to be disturbed and far away from all of it, than to think about Hayley. In your bed.
Sam growled as he jerked into the parking lot of Mile High. Will’s Jeep was the lone vehicle, and Sam felt a certain relief at that. He could give Will shit and he definitely wouldn’t think about Hayley while he did it.
Sam parked and headed into the office through the back. When he opened the door he was greeted by the sounds of some sporting event on TV. Sam stepped through the sparse hall and found Will in his and Brandon’s office, sprawled on the little twin bed shoved in the corner, watching a baseball game on the TV mounted on the wall.
Will looked up, clearly surprised to see Sam. “Well, what brings you here?”
Sam shrugged. “Behind on my paperwork.”
Will laughed. Hysterically. Complete with knee slap. “Sam, you’ve been ‘behind’ on paperwork for about five years. Brandon does it for you because he knows you’ll never do it.”
Again, Sam shrugged, but this time he didn’t try to make crap up. Nor was he about to admit the truth. Can’t stop thinking about your damn sister and all her insightful bullshit. Also the way her breasts look in those damn stretchy shirts she wears.
“Go grab us a beer and watch the game with me.”
Sam nodded and did what he was told. He left the office and headed to the kitchenette, grabbing two beers from the fridge and popping off the tops. He returned to the room, taking the office chair as he handed Will a bottle.
“So, how’s Hayley shaping up?”
Her shape is quite nice. He shook his head at himself and took a deep, long swig of the beer. “Good. Not much strength, but her endurance is perfect. I’m thinking hikes and camping.”
Will nodded. “That certainly won’t hurt. We could use that, actually. Having a female who can do those things? Hell, that’s kind of genius.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“I’m glad it worked out,” Will said thoughtfully. “I’m glad it works.”
Sam could tell there was more Will wanted to say, but Sam didn’t prod and Will remained silent. Will watched the Rockies play with a kind of intensity that felt out of place for an August game and a last-place team currently losing fourteen to three.
“What are you doing here anyway? Can’t you watch baseball in your own home?”
“What are you, king of avoiding people, doing here, where there will almost definitely be people?”
“Touché,” Sam muttered.
They both sipped their beers in silence for another little while. Sam supposed they were both brooding, and though he was loath to admit it, it wasn’t so bad to do his brooding with a friend instead of by himself.
“I’m taking Hayley on an overnight camping trip sometime this week.”
Sam wasn’t sure why he expected Will to respond to that in a negative way, but he braced himself for the impact of the angry response.
He didn’t get it.
“That makes sense,” Will replied, nodding thoughtfully before giving Sam a curious glance. “Why are you acting so weird?”
“Acting weird?”
“You’re here. You haven’t volunteered the tiniest piece of information about Hayley in the past three weeks, but you told me that with no prodding from me. Normally the camping trip would be something you’d do with no discussion, and certainly no psuedo-permission-asking while scowling and growling.”
Sam glowered and sipped his beer. Mostly because he knew Will was right. Everyone was right.
All that had been his normal these past few months, but something about working with Hayley had very nearly snapped him out of it. A little bit anyway. Which made him uncomfortable and itchy and he hated it.
Everything with Hayley reminded him too much of . . . Well, life. Real life. The kind of life that you participated in, and made choices in. And, in his case, screwed up and left people dead.
“Did you come here because you want to talk about it?” Will
asked, a little too cheerfully.
“Fuck no.”
Will laughed.
“So why aren’t you in your own damn house watching the game?”
“I find myself less and less inclined to hear my brother and future sister-in-law pretend like they aren’t doing what I know very well they’re doing in their room that shares a wall with mine.”
Sam grimaced.
“Exactly.”
“Aren’t you going to have to get used to that?”
“No, I’m going to move. I just have to figure out where.”
“In town?”
Will was still staring intently at the TV. Something was gnawing at him, more than just overhearing Brandon and Lilly. Sam could recognize someone being gnawed at.
“I wouldn’t mind. But I would mind. Which I know doesn’t make any damn sense.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Brooding silence followed and Sam couldn’t shake the distinct impression there was more to this. Out of the three of them—Brandon, Will, and Sam himself, even before he’d stopped being himself—Will had always been the sociable one. He wanted people around him. He needed movement and action and interaction. Him sulking in Mile High headquarters by himself was abnormal.
Normally, Sam would leave it. Ignore it. In the past few years, he’d done a hell of a lot of ignoring. But if he pestered Will about Will’s problems, then he wouldn’t have to think about his own.
“You could always build a hermit cabin in the woods.”
Will cracked a smile. “I’m not as fucked up as all that.”
Sam had to laugh, even if it was at his own expense, but calling his cabin fucked up also reminded him of Hayley. Hayley judging him. Hayley calling him out. Hayley being damn right. It was funny that this girl he barely knew could see past all his denials and refusals that worked on Brandon and Will, and even Lilly to an extent.
But she somehow saw his fear, or maybe she was just willing to tell him that she saw it. Maybe Brandon and Will saw it too, but they weren’t going to push him on it because they knew how he’d come by his fear and how bad it had been.
But bigger than all those deep, uncomfortable thoughts was an even worse one: that she might be right, that there might be something he could do about it.
“I’m going to tell you something,” Will said, his voice uncharacteristically grave. “But I swear to God I will kill you if you tell anyone else . . .”
Sam tensed, and apparently made a face because Will laughed.
“And the fact you don’t want me to tell you is exactly why I’m going to tell you. Lilly and Brandon are focused on the wedding. I don’t want them worried about me, and God knows they’d peck at me till my eyeballs fell out.”
“Should they be worried about you?”
Will polished off his beer, looking something close to haunted. “I swear to God I heard Sarge barking this morning.”
Sam’s eyebrows rose. Back in their college days they’d had a fourth member of their little group. Tori Appleby was always supposed to have been part of their grand teenage plans. But something had happened with Tori, around the time Abby died, and she’d disappeared. Sam had always suspected Will knew a lot more about that than he was ever going to let on.
Sarge was Tori’s dog, who’d gone just about everywhere with her that last year they’d all been together, and since she’d followed them all around, the dog had been something like a fifth member of their group. Will thinking he heard the dog was weird, especially when paired with Will thinking he’d seen Sarge a few months ago in town.
“I know I’m fucking losing it,” Will muttered when Sam’s silence continued to stretch. “Probably just a dog outside my window or something.”
“Dogs aren’t allowed up here.”
“That doesn’t stop idiots from bringing them. Especially when the signs aren’t consistent. I know it’s crazy. It wasn’t Sarge. It probably wasn’t any damn thing. I just had to get it off my chest, and now it’s done and we don’t need to discuss it.”
Will’s unusual agitation was enough for Sam to attempt reassurance, or some shit like that. “You know, whether you’re hearing Sarge or seeing him . . .”
“I didn’t see him. I didn’t hear him. I saw and heard things that remind me of him, and that’s bizarre. And annoying.”
“If you’re seeing him and hearing him and he’s not there, maybe it’s your subconscious trying to tell you something.”
“What would my subconscious be trying to tell me, Sam?” Will’s sharp hazel eyes landed on him and there was violence lurking there. Like the wrong answer would earn Sam a punch in the face. Because whatever had gone down between Will and Tori in the days before Tori had left, it was ugly enough for Will to have kept it from him and Brandon all this time.
“Fuck if I know,” Sam returned eventually.
Will scowled at that. A simmering silence followed, one Sam wanted to break because he had a feeling Will was on the brink of telling him something. The kind of something that would change things.
Hayley thought he could change if he wanted to, but that was always going to be the problem. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have to face things like this.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?” Sam downed the rest of the beer, hoping it might ease whatever shit was about to be thrown at him. At least it wasn’t Hayley shit, he’d give Will that.
“Did you know she had a thing for me?”
Sam’s jaw just about dropped. “Did you know?”
“I take that as a yes.”
“I mean I had a theory. What the hell happened?”
“She told me. That she did.”
“Holy shit. Tori told you and you did what?” Sam couldn’t believe this was what had happened. He couldn’t believe Will was telling him. He couldn’t believe he . . . actually wanted to know more. Tori had always been their friend, their partner, and while Sam had wondered if she might have some extra feelings for Will, Sam never in a million years would have expected proud, prickly Tori might have put herself out there and told Will.
“I did nothing.”
“You did nothing?”
“Nothing. She . . . damn it, we were friends. What the hell was I supposed to do with that crap?” Will popped up and started pacing the room. “I was seeing Courtney. I . . . I don’t know why I brought this up.”
“Maybe because you need to deal with it?”
Will sent him a sharp look. “Easy with the pot-and-kettle business.” But then he went back to his pacing, to his frustration and some other emotion clogging up the air, which Sam wanted nothing to do with.
“I go to Europe and I come back and she is fucking gone.”
“You came back married,” Sam pointed out.
“So? So what? No. No. I’m not talking about this anymore. Doing this. And I’m not hearing or seeing that damn, fucking dog.” He raked his hands through his hair. “I feel like I’m losing it.”
For a brief second, Sam regretted coming here. Regretted poking. He was surprised to find it only lasted a second. As much as reminders of his old life bothered him, it was kind of nice not to be the only one screwed up about something.
“Feeling a little bit better about yourself?” Will asked wryly.
Sam couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe a little.”
“I don’t know what the hell is happening to me.”
“Join the club.”
“Sam, it’s been years. For both of us. Ever get the feeling we should figure it the hell out?”
“No,” he lied, hard and with a straight face.
“I know you feel guilty about Abby, and I can’t make you not feel guilty. I get that. But you’re alive, and there’s only so much not living a person can do.”
“Been doing it for years.” Who said he couldn’t do it for a good fifty more? But something in his chest was shifting, pressing down on his lungs. Panic or fear or some conglomeration of the feelings he kept shoved deep, deep d
own.
Will sighed, patting Sam on the shoulder. “The way I see it, well, we can do one of two things.”
“What two things?”
“We can either go get drunk and pretend this conversation never happened. Or we can have a fistfight.”
“That’s a tough choice,” Sam deadpanned. “Getting drunk wouldn’t be quite so messy.”
Will inclined his head toward the doorway. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Hayley stood at the end of Main Street looking east, where the sun slowly rose at the end of the road. She didn’t have to be at Sam’s until nine, and on those later days she’d taken to running early in the morning, trying to build up her endurance.
The air was cool and Hayley set about taking her normal route. She wasn’t looking for speed so much as distance. She could be slow as long as she could run far.
There was a certain centering she got out of this ritual. As though the physical exertion was helping her achieve the spiritual and emotional changes she sought.
It was a challenge to reach the distances she wanted to reach. It was a challenge to be this new person. It was a challenge to face what she wanted, to ask for it.
She liked the symbolism. It kept her moving, up and around Gracely as the sun delicately rose, bathing the mountains with a hazy pink light, waking up downtown Gracely with its golden rays.
By the time she was done, the sun was higher in the sky and Hayley was sweating. She stopped at the corner of Main and Hope to stretch and breathe and look at how much she’d accomplished. This too was a ritual she appreciated.
She loved this place. Every morning she felt it deeper, whether she was running through Gracely or driving out of it and toward Sam. The way the mountains stood like giant sentries, the way the air was different than the air back in Aurora where she’d spent most of her life.
She felt that sense of belonging that had been so elusive all that time. She’d never expected it to be a place—a quaint little mountain town that would steal her heart and make her feel whole. But that’s what Gracely had done. It had given her a place where she belonged.