Getaway Gone Wrong

by Lia London

  Parker turned, a little breathless, and pointed up. “So, what’s up there? The tower?”

  Guy’s hand moved to the small of her back. “Shall we?” They fastened the bikes to the fence with his long lock, hung their helmets on the seats, and headed up the steep slope.

  Parker’s muscles thrummed from the exertion, but she felt a buzzing energy lifting each step. At the top of the path, they climbed onto a wind-smoothed, rocky patch of ground and took in the view. A medieval-style fortress tower loomed on the left, but straight ahead, a sunny ocean scape stretched into the distance.

  “Oh wow. You weren’t kidding.” Parker leaped down to the low, stone wall overlooking a deep precipice. “You can see for miles!”

  “That’s Lummi Island there, and the National Wildlife Refuge over on the left.” He pointed.

  “What kind of wildlife? Bobcats and bears?”

  “Actually, there are no predatory mammals on the islands.”

  Parker gave him a coquettish look. “Really? Nothing that bites?”

  He smirked. “Nothing scary. The killers are all in the water or the air.”

  Parker laughed. “Oh, now you’ll never get me in a plane or a kayak!”

  Guy winked and extended a hand towards the tower. “I think I will. Come on, one last climb.”

  “All right, Mr. Fox.” She followed him to the entrance. “Give me the tour.”

  “You seriously want to hear it?”

  “I want you to do the talking so you won’t hear me gasping for breath while we climb.” She ran her hands along the enormous stone blocks.

  “Well, first off, you just biked up the second highest island peak in the continental U.S.”

  “My, aren’t I impressive?”

  He held up a hand. “Not that you have to impress me.”

  “Of course!”

  Guy paused to lock eyes with her and grinned. “But you did.” He started up the steps, and Parker gave herself a silent fist-pump to celebrate before following.

  “So, what is this thing? Not a fire watchtower.” She could see information about the tower hanging on the walls in frames with pictures, but she wanted to hear Guy talk. His voice echoed low and cozy in the narrow stairwell.

  “It was built in 1936 by the Civilian Conservation Corps as an observation tower.”

  “What a waste.” She inhaled the dank smell of the tower. “Epic battles should be waged here.”

  “Disappointed?” he asked, stepping out onto the platform at the top.

  Parker gasped.

  “I’ll take that as a no?” Guy leaned his elbows on the stone wall.

  Parker stared with open-mouthed wonder at the panoramic view around them. “Tell me everything I’m seeing.”

  With a chortle, Guy began naming points on the horizon. “Canada, both Vancouver and Victoria, British Columbia. The Cascade Range with Mt. Baker, and … kind of peeking through the clouds over there is Mt. Ranier.” His arm slid around her waist as he turned her to face a different angle. “Saturna Island, and all of this …” He swept his hand in a wide arc over the forested hill. “Is Moran State Park, donated by Mr. Moran of Rosario fame.”

  Somehow in the turning and the showing, Parker found herself facing Guy in a loose embrace, and all the beauty around faded as she focused on his bright eyes. For a moment, neither of them moved. An exhilarating connection bound them, and she felt as if they breathed as one.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. “You know, if I were framing a shot for a scene …”

  “A romantic scene?”

  His suggestion rumbled softly into her core and tickled her. She nodded, suppressing a smile.

  Guy’s fingertip swept a strand of hair from her cheek. “What’s the best angle, Madame Director?”

  “I think …” She lifted her heels off the ground. “Something like …” She laced her fingers behind his neck, drawing him closer.

  Their cheeks brushed, and she giggled.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, hesitating.

  “I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before.”

  “Oh, I see.” His eyes shone with humor. “I’d be happy to help you with that, though I’ve never actually kissed a bearded man, either.”

  Parker shoved him gently. “Never mind. I don’t know what I was thinking. Sorry.”

  He closed the distance again. “No, no. I don’t mind. I’m happy to make this island getaway interesting for you. If you want a new experience …”

  They stumbled into silence, and Parker watched his mouth closely. Breathing was hard, and blinking impossible.

  Guy’s voice softened, and he ducked his head a little closer. “The trick is to focus on what’s behind the beard.”

  “Search for hidden treasures?” Parker hadn’t flirted in years and wasn’t sure she had it right.

  His lips parted in a charming half smile. “Need a tour?”

  “I think I can find my way.” Parker pressed closer and felt a rush of excitement as their lips met and danced in a series of switchbacks that took her higher than Mt. Constitution by a mile.

  Disaster #7 ~ Coming Back Down

  Guy pulled away from the kiss only because he needed air. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Parker’s blushing grin. “Wow!”

  Parker shimmied. “Yeah. Unexpected.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Is that a good thing?”

  She reached up a hand and smoothed his brow with her thumb. “I’ve spent a lot of time filming people kissing, but I never saw anything that looked like that felt. So yeah…” She released a whooshing breath. “A very good thing.”

  “You don’t mind the bristles?”

  Tickling his chin and cheeks with both hands, she shook her head. “Nope.”

  “What do the judges on the panel say?”

  Parker laughed. “Uh-uh. I’m on vacation. No judges. No panels. No impressing anyone.”

  “You’ve just impressed me twice. First with the climb, and then with—”

  “Aaaand shut up. You stink at soap opera, sappy improv, remember?” She touched her finger to his lips to quiet him, and he kissed it quickly before she pulled away.

  “That was forward of me,” he apologized.

  A wide smile lit her face, and she turned to lean on the tower’s wall. “I started it, and I’m not complaining.”

  The blush in her cheeks delighted him, and he wanted to reach for her again, but he reined himself in. He was no user, no Casanova who satisfied his lusts with the tourists and forgot about them the next day. And especially not with Parker. She was so different. Intriguing. Her mental and physical energy challenged him, making him want to grow beyond his comfort zone.

  Voices approached, and he turned to see a teen couple walking up to the tower, hand-in-hand.

  Parker sighed. “I guess it’s someone else’s turn to use the tower.”

  Guy drank in her shining smile before giving a reluctant nod. Taking her hand, he gestured for them to retreat down the steps.

  She gave him a playful poke in the ribs. “So, is this the local make-out point?”

  “I wouldn’t know. It’s my first time kissing a princess on the tower.”

  “All right, Prince Charming. As long as you don’t expect me to break out in song. I’m not Disney-certified.”

  “Will you kick my behind if I say I’m already singing on the inside?”

  “Probably.” She tapped her toe against the back of his thigh. “What song are you singing?”

  Guy coughed with embarrassment. “It’s not Disney-certified.”

  “My legs are a little wobbly,” said Parker, watching Guy unlock the bikes. “Not sure if I’ll make it down safely.”

  He winked. “Well, we should take it slow, then. Coast. Keep the brakes on.”

  “You’re no fun,” she teased.

  “Brakes, Ms. Parker. The turns come quickly, and I don’t want you hurtling down the mountainside to your death.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fox.” She tosse
d her leg over the bike saddle and fastened on the helmet. He had kissed her in a way that made her feel beautiful—desirable, even—despite her sweaty, helmet hair and zip-tied yoga pants. “Life’s too good right now to throw myself over a cliff.”

  “I’m very glad to hear you say that.” He grinned and buckled his helmet on. “Ready? Let’s try this side-by-side, me to the right, so if one of us goes over the edge, it’s me.”

  “How gallant!” Parker kicked off and coasted towards the long road of switchbacks.

  “Brakes! I’m not kidding. Until you know where you’re going, go slow.”

  Parker quickly sensed what he meant as gravity urged the bike faster. She adjusted the gears and kept her fingers ready to squeeze the brakes as needed. Gliding down the mountain in this effortless manner, she decided it was time to test a different kind of intimacy with him, sharing her private goals. “So, remember how I mentioned I wanted to film people from around the world doing amazing things?”

  “Yes, your adventurer show.”

  “More a chance to spotlight causes.”

  “What kinds of causes?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Whatever people are doing.”

  “Don’t you need to pick some general guidelines? I mean, people support conflicting causes, and both can feel passionately about it. Which one would you feature?”

  “Why not both?”

  “You could do that.”

  “You sound skeptical.” Parker didn’t care for his tone.

  “No, not skeptical. You’re just going to need to know your target audience and pick causes that will resonate with them.”

  Parker frowned. What could he know about target audiences? She’d spent the last year pandering to target audiences and giving them the smutty mush they wanted. “What if I want to show two sides to every issue?”

  “Sure. A point and counterpoint kind of thing, but it’ll take a lot more advanced research to know who to film and where.”

  “Good grief, you sound like a producer, picking holes in everything.” The chill in the air and his attacks on her ideas quickly squashed the high she felt from their tower-top encounter.

  “No, no. It’s called thinking it out ahead of time. Taking it slow, ’til you know where you’re going.” He thumped his handlebars. “So you don’t crash.”

  Parker rolled her eyes. “For the love of peanut butter, don’t you think I know my job?”

  “You said you were between jobs.” He said it cheerfully enough, but his words sliced an angry gash in her good mood. Who was he to tear down her dream?

  “I have a contract. I just don’t know what my next assignment is.” She frowned. “Besides, you don’t have a job, either.”

  “Sure, I do. I’m self-employed.”

  “As a handy man. What kind of a job is that for a man who supposedly has two degrees?” She knew instantly she’d been too harsh.

  Guy’s grip tightened on the handlebars, and he stared straight ahead. She’d surely set him off. He’d blow up, and their steamy little rendezvous would end up boiling over in a hot mess.

  But he didn’t blow up. In fact, his voice dropped. “I’m sorry my work isn’t more impressive. I make a living that allows me to stay in the home I love—which is not cheap, I might add—and I’m able to be of service to a lot of people.”

  She could appreciate the first part, but was he implying she was of no service to others? That her work—or desired work—was not as noble? For the love of peanut butter, he was an appliance repairman. Who was he to talk?

  “Don’t you ever want more? To see more of the world? To do something more ambitious?” She could feel her temper rolling away with her even as she gained speed and drifted ahead of him.

  He didn’t answer for several seconds, and when he did, his tone was clipped. “Ambition is about setting goals you believe in and achieving them. I’m happy with what I do. It’s exactly what I want to do.”

  Ugh. How had she let herself be seduced even marginally by a man with no gumption? “Because you have no drive for more?”

  “Because I know what ‘more’ actually means.”

  Parker snorted and glared over her shoulder at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Brakes!”

  “What?” She turned to face forward and saw the switchback coming too fast. Squeezing the brakes hard, she screamed. The bike slid out from under her, and she skidded on her side in a wide spiral, asphalt tearing at her left arm.

  “Parker!” He reached her in an instant, assessing the damage. “Can you move? Are you all right?”

  She gingerly bent her leg and arm. “Ow.” Wincing, she watched the blood seeping from a wide abrasion on her upper arm. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but—ow, for the love of—it stings!”

  “I told you to go slower.”

  Parker squeezed her eyes shut, willing the pain to subside. “I’m not good at slow!” she barked. She should have slowed down on the tower. What had she been thinking? Angry with herself, she turned her head in his direction. “Did I wreck the bike?” She shuddered with sudden chills. “Ow.” With a whimper, she lay back, clenching her fists. “My hip hurts.”

  “Let’s hope it’s only banged up and not broken. I’d hate your first small craft flight to be the copter taking you to Bellingham hospital.”

  Parker muffled an oath in the back of her uninjured arm. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to ride. Can you call for help?”

  He grimaced. “No bars up here.”

  “You’re kidding. We’re half-way to the satellites.”

  “Can I lift you to the side?” He held out his arms. “Then I can ride down and bring the van back up to take you to the clinic.”

  Parker reluctantly let him carry her to the edge of the road, where she sat on the guard rail and gaped at the plunge she would have taken if she had rolled a few more feet. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” Removing his shirt, he held it to her arm. “I know it’s gross and sweaty, but let’s wrap it to keep pressure on the wound. No sense in bleeding to death, though I don’t think it’s that bad.” He wound it snugly around her arm. “Can you hang on until I come with the van?”

  She nodded, still shivering.

  “I think you might be going into shock.” Guy squinted at her. “Did you crack your head on the way down?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, well … if you start to feel dizzy, lie down. I won’t be long.”

  Parker swallowed. “Okay.”

  He mounted his bike and set off faster than before.

  She called out after him to slow down, but he rounded the bend seconds later. Leaning back against the railing, she pressed her hand to his shirt on her arm. “Daisy Parker, you’re an idiot. The man gives you the clothes off his back, and all you can do is call him a loser because he’s not rich and famous.” She hadn’t used those exact words on him, but knew those were the ones he had heard. Her body shook violently with emotion and cold. She closed her eyes and muttered, “Be safe, Guy. Be safe. Please come back.” If only she could call “Cut!” and do the whole scene over, but that was impossible with a live performance. How had she managed to crash so badly both literally and figuratively?

  Navigating on automatic pilot, Guy sped down the familiar turns. His stomach churned against the conflicting emotions. There had been too many in the last few minutes, from passion, to irritation, to fear. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut? Kissing her and questioning her had probably both been mistakes.

  His hands ached from the cold and the tight grip, and he counted the switchbacks impatiently as he descended. He tried to estimate how much time had passed. If she sustained a concussion or went into shock, things could get bad quickly in this damp, cool air.

  Why hadn’t he listened to his dad? Why couldn’t he have found something safe and easy to do with Parker?

  At last he reached the van and crammed his bike inside. Taking the turns much faster than usual, he climbed the mou
ntain one more time, coaxing the old engine with threats and promises if it would get to Parker faster.

  He pulled off to the edge a little below the crash site so cars moving in either direction would see the van and not crash into it. Grabbing up a coarse blanket he kept in the van to protect appliances from getting scuffed, he mentally ran through his options for care.

  “Parker, you okay?”

  She grunted in reply.

  “Wrong answer.” He touched her cold, clammy forehead with his palm. The color had drained from her cheeks. Gently pressing his fingers to the artery in her neck, he sensed a rapid pulse.

  “Parker, can you hear me okay?”

  “Of course.” Her pupils dilated in the bright light.

  “Parker, you’re in shock. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, shivering. “I feel a little pukey.”

  “Come on. I need to get you to a doctor. Can I try to pick you up?”

  Again, she nodded, wincing as she wrapped her arms around his neck. After jostling for leverage, he hoisted her to her feet long enough to bundle her in the blanket. Then, he carried her back to the van. Placing her as carefully as he could, he tucked the blanket around her. “Try not to roll, okay?”

  “What about the bike?” she mumbled.

  “I’ll get it later. You’re more important.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her voice faded to a moan.

  “No, Parker.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry. Lie still. I’ll get you to a doctor. You’re going to be all right.” He slammed the side door shut and jumped into the driver’s seat. “Stay with me now. Talk to me while we drive. And try not to vomit. It’s going to be a fast, curvy ride.”

  “Fast and curvy,” she mumbled. “Just like Slick Patton likes ’em.”

  Guy stifled a snicker and started the engine. “Good. Slick Patton. Tell me all about him.”

  “Total jerk,” she said groggily.

  “Parker, no naps yet. Tell me about Slick. Has he ever kissed you?”

  “No way. Not ever going to happen.” She sucked in a sharp breath as he rounded the first hairpin turn. “His breath smells like minty onions.”