"What are you talking about? They're bolted to the thingy there, aren't they?"
They both looked at the boat, which held empty rings and no oars. She glanced to the right and saw them floating off in the distance. Her heart began to pound. They were pretty far from the cabin and the shore. "Wolfe? What are we going to do?"
He rubbed his head like disasters commonly occurred in his world. "Huh. This could be a problem. I guess we swim."
Her mouth fell open. "I'm not going in the water with bad things out to hurt me! I saw Scooby-Doo! Curse of the Lake Monster with Lily! No way in hell!"
"Fine, then get on my back. I'll swim and protect you."
Thick, cold droplets began to strike her in a random, peppering pattern. She moaned in misery and stared down into the water. "I can't do it."
"You're doing it." He jumped back into the water and treaded water while he waited.
"What about our supplies?"
"I think bottles of water and fishing gear can be sacrificed for the greater good. Come on, Gen. Jump."
"I can't."
She shivered, getting colder by the minute. His voice came out like a whiplash.
"I'm gonna say it for the last time. Get your ass in the water. I promise I'll never let anything happen to you."
She gulped. "Promise."
His face softened, and suddenly Gen realized she'd go anywhere with him without hesitation.
"Promise."
She jumped.
THE FIRE ROARED. THE rain pounded nonstop against the windows, while logs crackled and filled the air with the scents of burned wood and pizza. Wrapped in a toasty blanket, Gen stretched out a piece of melty cheese and sighed with delight. "Sooo good."
Wolfe munched, eating from the crust downward as he preferred, and mumbled in agreement. "Better than fish."
"Told ya so." She licked her fingers and settled back on the couch with a groan of contentment. She glanced outside, where the wind roared and an old-fashioned summer thunderstorm raged onward. "That boat is long gone. Hope it wasn't too pricey."
He laughed and wiped his hands. "I just found the sucker in the woods during my morning hike."
She paused. "What? You didn't even know if that thing was safe? You could've killed us."
He snorted, leaning back and stretching his legs on the coffee table. "I protected you from the creature from the black lagoon, didn't I? You almost killed me. Strangling my neck so hard I couldn't breathe."
She tried to be mad, but a smile tugged at her lips. He was pretty lucky. She had never loosened her grip and the swim back had been brutal. "Fine. We're even."
A comfortable silence settled. She sipped a glass of Chardonnay and let the warmth of the evening wash over her. So nice. She used to crave sitting like this with David, just basking in his company. Enjoying his sharp intellect. But as they continued dating, the moments got further apart. He was always busy doing something, or telling her to do something. Idle hands and such. Until she'd forgotten what it was like to just sit in silence with a man, talking, being in the moment. Was this so sinful? Did every waking second of life need to be productive, with a target for output?
She remembered the way she'd try and fight back, give her opinions, and how he'd crumble in front of her, an emotional wreck. David struggled with receiving love. His parents divorced early in his childhood, and his mother was an absentee, not seeming to care about her only son. He'd devoted himself to the medical field, to achievement, to prove his worth. And he had. But Gen saw the cold glimmer of intent in his eyes, as if he only wanted to cut out his past with a surgeon's scalpel. When she disappointed him, he reverted. At first she was amazed at his willingness to share his past. His openness regarding his limitations and weaknesses. He told her over and over she was the one to save him.
She'd tried. Hadn't she?
But she wasn't strong enough. The constant back and forth between cold disdain, teacherlike discipline, and loving, needy partner began to destroy her. So many times she'd chosen to forgive the way he hurt her because he loved her. But what was real love anyway?
She didn't know anymore.
Darkness began stealing her peace inch by inch. She blinked back useless tears, caught between the misery of the past and her guilt over trying to save herself. The lives she had ruined by being selfish enough to run away. Coward. Coward . . .
"Sweetheart? Are you ready?"
She shook her head and tried to focus. Wolfe knelt beside the table with a battered maroon box in front of him. "What?"
"Scrabble. Here, help me set it up." He handed her the bag of letters and she automatically began laying out the wooden tile holders.
"Wolfe, I'm tired. Maybe I should just go to bed." Exhaustion overtook her mind and body. The idea of having to think of words was overwhelming. She waited for him to agree, patting her gently on the head and allowing her to escape.
"Tough. I'm bored and you're playing. Don't forget the rules. You can't use all medical terms or it's not fair."
She bristled, shaking the bag of letters. "You're so mean and selfish. I'm tired and you're making me play."
"It'll be good for you." He left to refill her wineglass and returned with a notepad and pen. "What are we playing for?"
She let out a breath. "Geez, I don't know. I'm a resident and you're a millionaire. How about money?"
"You're such a smart-ass. We'll play for secrets."
She froze. Studied his face. He seemed serious, intent on fishing out his first letter from the bag. "What type of secrets?"
Wolfe shrugged. "If you win, you get to ask me anything and I'll tell you. Vice versa. Deal?"
She had nothing to lose. Her spirits spiked and she picked the letter S. Nice. He got an A. Sucker. "You go first."
Gen forgot how much fun Scrabble was. She used to play tournaments with her family, yelling, challenging each other at every turn. The dictionary was a well-worn friend. The simple complexity calmed and focused her mind, and suddenly she found herself locked in a stiff competition with one of the smartest men she knew. Best of all, he never showed it. Someone looking at him would never know from his casual dress and rough speech how highly intelligent and educated he was. But on the Scrabble board he was frickin' deadly.
She was ahead a good twenty points and still held a magic Z. It was her game to lose, and she didn't intend to do it. Her turn. The open square sung to her in a symphony. Ah, the beauty of having an S.
Zips.
He whistled. "Nice job."
She preened. A surge of adrenaline made her jump a bit on the couch. "Triple word score!" She grabbed the letters for replacement and turned the bag over. "No more letters!"
She was so gonna win.
He chewed on the edge of the pencil, gaze focused on the board. "Hmm, space is getting tight. This is going to be tough." She drank her wine, waiting happily for the little word she expected, and swore she wouldn't be a bad winner. Well, at least she'd try. All he had to work with was an open A, and it wouldn't give him much.
"Got it." He began laying letters down one by one across the board.
Anestrus.
Huh? Gen leaned over and tried to focus. Wait, had he gotten rid of all his letters? She blinked in astonishment at the empty tile holder. He just scored an extra fifty points for the bonus.
"Hold off. What the heck is anestrus? That's not a word. And how did you manage to keep two S's hidden from me?"
He shrugged as if it meant nothing. "Don't know. Wanted to save them for a good one. You don't know what that means? It's a word."
"I challenge!"
He cocked his head. "You're a doctor and know biology. You're telling me you never heard of it?"
"Of course I haven't, because it's not a word. What does it mean, smarty pants?"
"Anestrus is the period of sexual inactivity in mammals."
She blinked. "You're kidding me, dude."
"Nope. Look it up. You challenge and lose, it's my game."
"Fine. I sti
ll challenge." She grumbled in irritation as she flipped through the dictionary and came across . . . anestrus. The period of sexual inactivity in mammals.
Bastard.
She shut the book with a snap. His delighted grin stole all her thunder. "Believe me now, Doc?"
Oh, she so wanted to scream "Cheater," but she couldn't. He was just smarter than her right now, and it burned her bad. Another trait she had gained from her sister. A penchant to win all board games.
She studied him, relaxed, a tiny grin still on his face while he cleaned up the board and allowed her to pout. He'd changed into running shorts and a tank top that showed off his carved arms and cut shoulders. His skin was a lovely golden brown from the sun. Funny, any woman would be going nuts right now to be alone with him, in front of a roaring fire, in a deserted cabin. He was a walking, talking sex god, and here she was, playing Scrabble in her Walmart clothes, with no makeup and crazy hair.
It was pretty awesome.
Sleepiness began to claim her again. She leaned her head against the side of the couch and yawned. "I hate losing."
"I know."
"You won fair and square. I'm yours for the taking." His brow shot up. "For a secret, I mean. Mind out of the gutter, please."
"Was just concerned you wanted to end your anestrous state."
She couldn't help it. Gen threw her head back and laughed. "One day. Not tonight."
"Good to know." She waited for his question, knowing it would be about David. How sad it was that she'd begun shutting Wolfe out under her fiance's demands. Soon she'd need to admit her wrong and hope Wolfe could forgive her. Now, at least, she could offer the truth for anything he wanted. "What was the thought that crossed your mind right before you decided to jump out the window?"
The question threw her off. Wringing her hands, she thought back to the one critical moment before she ran. Before she blew up her controlled, perfect, orderly life. And told the truth.
"I used to have this inner voice that would talk to me. Tell me things. Either my subconscious or gut, not sure. I got used to trusting it. But after a few months with David, it started to become quiet. At first I thought it was because I didn't need it anymore. I had the man I loved. But then I realized the loss was dangerous, because I was just afraid to listen to it anymore. The voice died." She sucked in a breath, trembling. "Right before the wedding, I heard it again. The voice kept telling me one thing over and over."
"What?"
"Run," she said simply. "So I ran."
The emotion hit her hard. Wrung out, sad, confused, she slumped on the couch, not able to keep up her defenses any longer. Quietly, Wolfe got up and disappeared. Came back with a pillow. He laid it gently under her head, tucked the covers around her, and smoothed her hair back. The tenderness of his touch made a purr sound deep in her throat. She closed her eyes and welcomed the darkness, where nothing else mattered and no thoughts were needed.
"The voice was right, sweetheart. It always is. And thank God you listened."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but she was already sinking into sleep.
seven
WHERE ARE WE going?"
After she'd moped around a bit, Wolfe declared they were going on a road trip to keep her mind occupied. After more cereal, and some grumbling, she agreed and climbed into the car.
"A place where dreams come true."
"In a tiny hidden upstate town? Wait--is it the spa? I'd love that! We can do dual massages and mud body baths to release toxins. Arilyn has been begging me to do one but I haven't had the time."
"Not the spa. You couldn't pay me enough to put mud on my body and release anything. I happen to like my toxins."
"Oh." She buckled her seat belt and thought hard. "Shopping? Women love shopping when they're depressed. Not that I'm a big shopper, but I'd be willing to try it. I do love shoes."
"I don't. I want to have fun, too, not be slowly tortured by girly shit. This place will cover both of our needs."
"Fine. You gonna tell me?"
"Nope. First rule of the road--keep on going and don't look back." The shadow over his face told her he'd experienced pain she couldn't imagine. Gen didn't want to. Right now, she trusted him to do what was right. The security of such trust humbled her, but if she tried to express it he'd only shrug the whole dialogue off and get embarrassed. Instead, she accepted his direction for the second day and nodded. "Then I'm ready to find out."
"Let's drive."
The rain had stopped in the middle of the night. The day was hot, the top was down, and Gen let the wind tear at her hair, whip her face, and bathe her in sensation. Blue sky whizzed by streaked with cotton-ball clouds. Once again, there wasn't a lot of talking. Wolfe pumped up the radio as Imagine Dragons sung about demons and they headed into town.
The memory hit hard. David driving toward Newport for a getaway weekend. The excitement that curled in her belly, knowing they'd finally be alone without hospital beepers or prying eyes. She'd stared at his godlike profile and wondered again how she'd gotten so lucky to have him notice her.
The car had hit something in the road and the tire blew out. They'd spent hours on the side of the road, on Memorial Day weekend, waiting for Triple A. Gen was used to mini disasters and approached life with a sense of humor. But as she watched David get more and more surly, the knot in her stomach began to tighten. When the car was finally fixed, he'd accused her of flirting with the mechanic. Told her if she hadn't been distracting him, he would've seen the debris in the road. The attack was finely launched, with cutting sarcasm but delivered with an angelic grace that confused her. By the time they got to the bed-and-breakfast, she was apologizing and not really understanding what it was for.
It was only the beginning.
Gen rubbed her arms, suddenly peppered with gooseflesh. Why hadn't she seen the manipulation before? Had it always been lurking? Their relationship unfolded so fast it was hard to keep up, but he consistently told her how much he loved her. Wanted to protect her. Wanted her to do well in her career and as his mate. How could that have been bad?
Bad enough you escaped through the church window, her inner voice snapped. Bad enough every night he came home you were a nervous wreck, making sure you did everything perfectly.
Not now, she answered. I'm not ready for this now.
Fine. But when you are, I'll give you some hard truths.
"Are you cold? I can put the top up."
Gen turned. He stared at her with assessing eyes. "No, I like it. Just the crazy voices in my head screwing with me again. I'll be fine."
He nodded. "Get them all the time."
"What do you do to make them stop?" she asked.
Wolfe concentrated on the road, but she knew he saw much more. "Make the music louder."
Gen smiled. And cranked up the volume.
When they finally reached their destination, Wolfe slowed to a crawl, inching toward the racetrack. Horse racing? Ugh. Why hadn't she guessed? She hated gambling; she always lost.
"Really, dude? First my groom, now all my money? This isn't fun," she said glumly.
He sent her a sharp glare. "Has anyone ever showed you the true beauty in horse racing? The adrenaline rush? The pounding of horses' hooves as they break away from the gate? The screaming of the crowds? Saratoga Racetrack is one of the most famous, and the home of the great Travers Stakes. Champions have raced here, and people travel from all over to be a part of it . . . Are you yawning?"
She delicately patted her mouth. "I went horseback riding once and didn't like it."
He rolled his eyes. "You won't be riding these horses. Just betting on a winner. Though you're probably the right size to be a jockey."
Gen huffed out a breath. "That was low. I thought you liked making money, not losing it."
"I never lose at the track."
"I'm gonna be bored. This is gonna be just as bad as the fishing disaster."
"Get moving, Gen."
She did, sighing and whining a bit and dragg
ing her feet like a cranky toddler. The crowds were lined up and streamed from the sidewalk, chattering with enthusiasm. Rolled-up books were tucked under their arms, and they pointed tiny pencils at the pages, talking odds and breeding and trainers. The tangy scent of earth and horse manure rose to her nostrils as she and Wolfe paid and walked through the elaborate wrought iron gates.
The scene surprised her. Instead of a bunch of men smoking and huddled around a small track, it was like a slice of old-town America burst around her. Concession stands selling homemade lemonade, hot pretzels, and various snacks were set up along the twisting sidewalks. A festive band played at the entrance, with children dancing and laughing to the beat. Large trees shaded areas of picnic benches where television monitors were scattered about. The air practically sizzled with energy while the broadcaster spoke about scratches and listed the horses in the race with both advantages and disadvantages. Women dressed in gorgeous dresses and elaborate hats strolled past her in elegant glory. Funny, it felt more like a picnic event than a dirty track.
"How could hard-core gambling attract so many wholesome family members?" she asked, trotting after him. He bought two racing forms, some pencils, and a large cup of lemonade. Then headed toward a bench.
"Because horse racing is a respected sport. August is the only month the track is open, so many families stop here on vacation on the way to Lake George. It's one of the only tracks you can see the jockeys and horses up front and stand right near the gate to see the race."
She sat next to him and took a large gulp of lemonade. It was tart and sweet at the same time, and she licked her lips with enthusiasm. At least she'd eat good here. "Okay, so what do we do?"
He studied the book for a few minutes, tapping the pencil. She kept quiet and waited for the elaborate plan. "We bet. Did you bring money?"
Gen blinked. "I left in my wedding dress, remember?"
He winced. "Oops, sorry. I'll front you for today."
"Oh gee, what a great friend."
"But that means I get ten percent of any money you make."
She released the straw from her lips and gasped. "That's not fair! That's robbery! What type of person are you, taking advantage of the weak and uneducated?"
He kept his gaze trained on the book, muttering under his breath as his pencil made scratches and notes in the margin. "You're the strongest woman I know and wicked smart. You'll be taking advantage of me by the end of this day."
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