by Jill Shalvis
BRIAN WASN’T CHARGED. There was no evidence, and while there might never be, Ally decided she couldn’t take that chance.
She was going to take matters into her own hands.
She got herself a small backpack and filled it with snacks and water, more determined than she’d ever been.
“Where are you going?” Jo asked in surprise when they passed each other in the office hallway.
Where was she going? To completely override her own personal goals, apparently. She’d fallen into her old trap of saving the world, and she didn’t care. Not when Brian needed her, not when she cared so much about him. Not when Chance needed her, too, though she doubted he would ever think so. But just looking at him, seeing his agony as he watched Brian, tore at her.
She’d mistakenly thought she needed him, that she needed his expertise, his strength. She’d been wrong about that, because here on this mountain, she’d found her own strength.
But maybe, just maybe, she could be needed, and not give up a piece of herself as she’d always let happen in her past. “I’m going up that mountain to check out the burn, and hopefully find something to clear Brian.”
“What?” Jo looked horrified. “You can’t do that.”
“Of course I can. I’m worried sick.”
“We’re all worried sick, but I don’t think you should—”
“He’s innocent, Jo.”
“Absolutely, he is, but…”
“But…what?”
“Well…” Jo bit her lip. “I don’t want to insult you.”
Ally had to laugh. “And when has that ever stopped you?”
“I just don’t think you should go out there alone.”
“You think it’s dangerous?”
“Yeah,” Jo said. “To your health.”
“I’ll stay on the trails. Really, this time.” Ally reached out and took Jo’s hand. “Brian’s killing me, Jo. Already all his confidence and joy has vanished, just like that, just in one day.” She was so afraid for him. His pride was gone, too. Even his swagger had disappeared.
“He refused to go riding with Chance this morning,” Jo said softly. “They’re both wrecked. We’re all wrecks.”
“So you understand.”
“Look, give me an hour. I’ll go with you, okay?”
“I can’t wait. I’m afraid they’re going to come back and charge him.”
“Just let me page Chance.” Jo raced into her office.
Though it was horribly rude, Ally took off. She had to, because she knew what Chance would do—go without her. If he hadn’t already gone.
She had to do this.
She had a trail map and her determination to guide her, but all the same, when she stood on the lower mountain trail and stared up at the peaks, she hesitated.
It looked huge.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew a month in the woods did not an expert make, but taking action felt good. And she wasn’t alone, not really. There were people all over the place. The resort was open, business as usual despite the recent fire. There were bikers, hikers, patrollers…plenty of company.
Still, as she started, careful to stay precisely in the middle of the narrow trail that would lead to the summit, she heard and saw no one. Only nature. The sun beamed down on her, warming her gently, but she didn’t look around much. She concentrated on her path. Though she hadn’t yet come close to the fire site, her nose was assaulted by the scent of burn.
In no time, she was huffing and puffing, in spite of the workouts she gave herself every night in the lodge gym. She’d have sworn she’d covered miles already, but when she looked at her watch, seriously contemplating a break, she had to laugh.
She’d been on the trail for twenty minutes. Well, at least she was still on the trail. She took off again, but didn’t get another twenty yards before a very familiar, achingly sexy voice sounded in her ear.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
God, that voice. Her nerves went to town and she didn’t want to acknowledge what her heart did at just the sight of Chance standing there, quiet and brooding, wearing those jeans of his that made her want to do wild and thrilling things to his body. He was also wearing that fiercely guarded expression, the one that was always mixed with a sort of bafflement when he looked at her, as if he wasn’t quite certain how he felt about her.
Well, they were even there.
She wanted to soothe him, comfort him. Be with him. She knew how ridiculous that was, but it made it no less real. “How did you find me?”
“Jo radioed me about your disappearing act. You scared her half to death.”
She crossed her arms. “I’m going to take that as an insult.”
“You can take it any way you want.”
“I’m perfectly capable of staying on the path and keeping out of trouble.”
“You’ll excuse me if I refrain from comment.” He glanced at the map she held, eyes narrowed.
“I’m looking for clues,” she told him, fully aware she sounded really…dumb. “I just wanted to do something.” She lifted the map, blushing when she realized it was upside down.
He grabbed it, and turned it right side up and slapped it back in her hands. “It might actually be worth something if you look at it the right way. God, Ally.” He looked at her in complete confusion. “Why do I always feel the need to lock you up somewhere?”
She couldn’t hold back her smile. “Because you like me?” But her amusement faded at the thought of why they were both there. “Don’t make me go back, not yet. I want to help Brian. I know you do, too.”
Chance tilted his head up and stared into the startlingly blue sky, hands on his hips now in an aggressive, frustrated stance. “Honestly, with that kid, I’m running blind.”
“You’re doing okay.”
“Somehow I just…understand him.” He shook his head and looked at her. “And why in the hell do I keep ending up talking to you like this?”
Her heart clenched. “For the same reason I end up talking to you.”
“Yeah? What’s that? Insanity?”
“You must know by now,” she said carefully. “How much I care about you.”
“But…why?”
She lifted a shoulder and gave him a little smile. “Bad habit. I’m always caring when I shouldn’t.”
“And trying to solve everyone’s problems.”
“No,” she denied. “I gave that up before I got here.”
His lips quirked at that, though his eyes remained dark. Troubled. “Just don’t try to solve me. And I’m sure Brian would say the same.”
There were lines of exhaustion around his eyes, and tension in his entire body. She wished she could soothe both away, but that was silly. He didn’t want comfort from her. He didn’t want anything from her except maybe her exiting Wyoming.
“You had another call,” he said.
“From Lucy?”
“No.” He looked at her strangely. “From San Francisco.”
“Oh, yeah.” From “home.” She seemed to keep forgetting that Wyoming wasn’t where she belonged.
“It was Maggie.” He watched her with a frustrated heat and intensity that still, after all these weeks, made her knees weak.
What did he want from her? She hadn’t a clue. She slipped a bottle of water out of her backpack and took a drink because she had no idea what to say or do. Closing her eyes, she let the warm sun dance over her face.
When he suddenly took her shoulders in his big, warm hands and turned her to face him, she squeaked in surprise. His jaw was doing that bunching thing, reminding her that no matter what he wanted her to believe, he did care.
His eyes were dark, so very dark, and before she could say a word, he captured her head in his hands, lifted her face and took her mouth.
With a thunk, her backpack hit the ground.
Her water hit next.
And he kissed her even harder, deeper, creating a delicious need she couldn’t deny. She went instantly hot and t
rembly. Her body’s immediate reaction both surprised and alarmed her because no one had ever done this to her before. No one but Chance, and she let out a sound that was pure heartfelt relief, wrapping her arms around him to wholly return the kiss, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel.
It was hot. Messy. Glorious.
He buried his hands in her hair, and when she did the same, he moaned from deep in his throat and pushed even closer, shoving a hard denim-clad thigh between hers, nearly making her pass out from the exquisite torture. Without breaking away, he gentled them both by nibbling at one corner of her mouth, then the other, tracing her lips with his tongue before sweeping it back against hers for another long, hot assault, devouring her. And his hands…they moved over her now, over her back, her bottom, then to her hips, his own rocking, grinding, bringing them both to a fevered pitch. She was drowning, she was dying, she was—
Blinking at him in shock when he abruptly pulled away and scowled at her.
“Dammit,” he growled out, backing away from her as if she had the plague. “Dammit.”
“What…” She had to clear her throat to speak. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. It was just a kiss.”
Just a kiss.
That had been just a kiss?
Well she was certainly glad he’d cleared that up for her because she’d been quite positive it had been more, far more, as in something from the heart, from the soul. Her lips tingled, and she brought a hand up to them. They were wet, and aching for more. This was bad, very bad, because it wasn’t just her body yearning for more, either. Nope, her heart hurt, too. And that’s what scared her.
“I want to stay away from you,” he said. “I mean to stay away from you.”
“Well you’re not doing a very good job.”
“I’m going to try harder.”
“Good. Because…” Her throat tightened. Just looking at him was bad for her mental health. She wanted him, plain and simple. And he wanted her, too; she knew that. But he didn’t want to want her, and that hurt more than it should.
Suddenly she missed her old world. Her old, quiet world. Okay, maybe it hadn’t been so quiet. Maybe she’d been too busy taking care of everyone but herself, but at least she hadn’t hurt like this. “I want my old life back,” she whispered.
He nodded curtly. “Then go get it.”
So simple. So why, then, did it seem so hard?
10
CHANCE SPENT THE next few moments morosely watching Ally’s all too nice behind as it wiggled its way farther up the mountain. She wore khaki shorts and a snug fitting T-shirt with a fleece vest. The material clung to her every curve in a way that made thinking a calculated effort. The insistent ache in his groin urged him to grab her back, beg forgiveness for being an insensitive jerk so that he could bury himself deep inside her and assuage this crazy need.
She wasn’t speaking to him.
His only defense was that she’d kissed him stupid. Completely, utterly, one-hundred-percent stupid. Again.
I want my old life back. Her words echoed in his head. At least she knew enough to know she didn’t belong here. From the moment she’d first gotten off the plane and looked at him with those huge eyes, she’d done nothing but complicate his life.
They were high up on the mountain now, on the edge of the burned acreage, where the fire had done the most damage. No longer did the fresh twigs crunch beneath their feet. Instead, the charred landscape gave way without a sound. Eerie, and infinitely sad.
He stood there on the line between the living and the dead, his senses assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke and burnt pine. In spite of their work up here, it would be years before the land repaired itself, and with a deep, unsettled sigh, he started moving again. “I have no idea what you think you’re going to find.”
Ally, looking as grim and shaken at the sight as he did, just kept walking, searching…all the while ignoring him. Which maybe, when he thought about it, worked in his favor. If she wasn’t talking to him, wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t driving him crazy, then he couldn’t ache for her. Soon Lucy would come back, Ally would go, and his life could return to normal. “Ally?”
She kept moving, head high, shoulders stiff, determination blazing from her every pore. God, she was something. Had he really ever thought her fragile? Vulnerable? Easily dismissed?
“Look!” she cried suddenly. “Look at this tree!”
It hadn’t burned. The fire had leaped, sparing a square piece of land about twenty feet across. A little miracle.
What held her interest was a huge, old pine tree. Right at shoulder height was a spot bare of bark, where someone had carved it smooth. In the spot was an etched heart. And the initials B.H. + M.M.
“Brian,” Ally whispered, reaching up above the heart where a blue scarf had been set. “Brian Hall.” Spinning in a circle, she laughed, arms spread out wide. Then, in a move that completely shocked him, she flung herself into his arms and squeezed him tight.
She was soft and warm and smelled incredible, and his body reacted immediately, violently.
“It’s perfect,” she whispered, oblivious to his reaction. Still grinning, she pulled away. But when she caught him staring at her, probably with the hottest look of undisguised, unadulterated hunger she’d ever seen, her smile faded. Self-consciously, she tugged at her vest. “This must be where Brian and his secret girlfriend get together.”
“You’re reaching now.”
“No, look. It rained two days ago, yet this scarf—Brian’s scarf—is perfectly dry and clean, which means it had to be brought here recently, right? As in maybe even the day of the fire. That girl, whoever M.M. is, can provide an alibi for Brian.”
“Maybe.”
“Probably,” she repeated stubbornly.
“It’s not a bad make-out spot,” he said, looking around at the thick trees, at the lush growth underfoot, all of which had been spared certain death by the firefighters. It was private, and he could imagine pressing Ally back against the tree, could imagine stripping her slowly, then burying himself between her soft thighs.
“It’s definitely a spot for lovers.” There was no mistaking her soft voice, her dreamy little sigh.
Which served as a vivid reminder that his prim little Ally wasn’t so prim after all.
“Not that I condone them coming here,” she said quickly. “They’re far too young. But there’s something magical, something—”
She broke off and shot him a quick glance before turning away, but it was enough to see the spark of heat, the slight blush to her cheeks. “Never mind.” She slipped off her vest and kneeled on the ground, stuffing it in her backpack. Her hair fell over her face, and she was half turned from him, but there was no mistaking her emotions, which were all over her face.
Confusion.
A hunger to rival his.
And hurt.
It was the last that killed him. “Ally—”
“We’d better get back, it’s a long walk.”
“Brian’s in school, or he’d better be,” he heard himself saying. “We can ask him about the scarf later.” He carefully removed it from the tree.
Still hunkered down by her backpack, she looked up warily. “Why would you want to stay here when you can hardly even look at me? You certainly can’t talk to me. Or be friends with me the way you are with every single other person on your staff. In fact, if you’re not yelling at me, you’re—”
“I’m…?”
“Kissing me,” she whispered. “You need to stop that. It just…messes with my head.”
He found himself squatting beside her, reaching out to touch her arm. “It messes with mine, too.”
“Then stop.”
“I can’t seem to do that.” His fingers skimmed up her forearm past her elbow, passing lightly over her upper arm. She didn’t so much as blink. What was she thinking? For once, he didn’t have a clue. His fingers dallied at her shoulder, and she shuddered.
“When you touched m
e before,” he said softly, in apology. “When you hugged me—”
“I shouldn’t have,” she interrupted. “It was silly, I was just happy, that’s all. Forget it.”
He wanted to see her smile again. He didn’t understand it, or the need to be the one responsible for that smile. But then again, he’d never understood half the emotions she caused in him.
So he stopped thinking and acted, slowly standing, drawing her up as well. Their bodies were close, and he entwined one hand with hers. With his other hand, he gently slid the scarf over her cheek, her jaw.
Ally closed her eyes. She couldn’t help herself. When he stroked her again, she made a sound that surely told him exactly what he was doing to her. “Don’t worry,” she managed. “Lucy will be back really soon.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m leaving.”
“Yes.”
She opened her eyes and lifted her gaze to his, and there was something so hot, so intense in the way he looked at her. Like he wanted to consume her, inhale her, devour her. But they weren’t intimate. They weren’t even friends. “You’ll be glad when I go.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, in complete contradiction to the regret in his eyes. He touched her again.
Again she closed her eyes, needing to protect herself from that look, from the wonder and the heat and the affection, because it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.
He couldn’t really feel those things for her. “You want to stay away from me, remember?”
“I can’t,” he said softly. The cool scarf slid over her neck now. His thighs brushed hers. His chest slid close too, in a touch so light she wasn’t sure it was real. But her nipples hardened and her heart sped up. She gripped his fingers tight. “Chance…”
“When you touch me,” he said, his voice as silky as the scarf, “I get instantly hard. Did you know that?”
“N-no—”
He rocked his hips to hers.
“Um…yes.” He was most definitely hard.
He rocked again.
Very hard.
She felt the scarf through her thin, V-necked T-shirt as he slid it down further, over her collar bone. His eyes followed the movement with dark intensity as he skimmed it over a breast and the very turgid tip. Unable to contain her small gasp, she reached behind her and grasped the tree so that she didn’t collapse. “Chance—”