by Brooke Moss
I looked around with an open mouth. “This is all for…me?”
Landon hugged me from behind, kissing my neck. “Of course it’s for you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I sighed. This was completely perfect. Gabe, who? I thought as we walked down the path and I took my spot on the blanket opposite Landon.
As he set to work cooking our steaks over the open fire, I admired how striking he was. Every muscle of his arm was visible through his thermal shirt as he held the cast iron skillet above the flames. He pressed his lips together when he concentrated, and his eyes would melt into little slits when he laughed. I adored the way the tattoos on his neck peeked above the collar when he bent and reached.
After we’d eaten, our legs wound around each other’s as we laid there next to the radiating warmth of the fire pit. “Thank you for dinner,” I told him around a yawn. “Who taught you how to cook like that?”
He shrugged as we settled down on our bed of straw and blankets. “My dad said that a real man can cook anything on an open fire.”
“Is that so?” I laughed. “Are you and your dad close?”
Landon drew lazy figure eights on my back as we snuggled. “Sort of. He’s older now, and not as interested in the things I do as he was when he was younger.” When I looked up at him curiously, he added, “I was a surprise baby. My parents were in their mid-forties when they had me.”
“No kidding?”
“No kidding. He’s the one who sparked my interest in woodworking. Years ago, I think I was about fifteen, he and I went into the woods and chopped down a birch tree. We spent the next few months cutting, whittling, and carving it into that rocking chair for my mom.” Landon gestured over his shoulder at a chair resting on the back porch behind us. It was gleaming in the light from the fire, and intricately carved across the back.
“That’s beautiful,” I breathed. “You made it?”
Landon nodded. “Sure did. Helped him finish this house, too.” He pointed to the awning above the back door. “I did that section myself. I work for a contractor right now, specializing in carved woodwork and inlays, but I hope to make and sell my own furniture someday.”
“Your work is very rustic. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of customers around here.” I nuzzled his neck and breathed in the aroma of campfire smoke. “People who build up here in the mountains are going for that very look.”
“Exactly.” He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders. “My parents had to search all over the country to find an antler chandelier, and now they sell them all over the place.”
“Were you raised around here?” I stretched lazily, then settled down against Landon’s side.
“I was born in Colorado, but we moved here when I was little. I was raised here in the mountains. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
Grinning against his shirt, I closed my eyes. I’d been born and raised in Seattle, and adored my rainy city on the Puget Sound. The sound of cars and trains lulled me to sleep at night, and drizzly, damp weather lifted my spirits more so than sunshine. I loved my city.
“I really hope to buy a portion of my parents’ land so I can build my dream home in the woods and live close to them,” he went on, his whiskered chin bumping my head as he spoke.
My eyes popped open. Landon wasn’t talking about Seattle? He was talking about living in the woods?
“I really want to raise my kids out of the city, away from the noise and bustle of a metropolis. I want them to run around in the woods for hours and hours without meeting another soul, except the scattered doe or elk.” I could hear the joy in Landon’s tone and bit my lip. “I’ll teach them how to hunt and fish, like I did when I was a kid.”
“Hunt? You mean, with a gun?” I stared at the flames, picturing a gaggle of children running through the woods, rifles in hand.
When Landon chuckled, his chest bounced. “That’s generally how it happens, yes. Unless we hunt with bows and arrows.”
I fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “Something tells me that you know how to do that, too.”
He pressed a kiss against my messy hair. “Yup. My dad taught me.”
I looked up at him. “Wow…interesting.”
“You seem a bit freaked out.” He brushed a thumb along my cheekbone. “Not much of an outdoorsy girl, are you?”
“Oh, I love the outdoors.” My voice came out squeaky. “I like going to outdoor concerts in Gasworks Park or going to Alki Beach.” I listed off some of Seattle’s outdoor sites, hoping I would sound way more well-rounded than I actually was.
“Those are a far cry from out here. This is the Pacific rainforest, Violet.” The cry of a coyote punctuated Landon’s sentence, and I hunkered down under the blanket a bit more.
“Are we safe out here?” I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. Take me to any neighborhood in downtown Seattle, and I walked around like I was the founder, but stick me in the woods with trees and wild animals and I was skittish as hell.
He pulled me closer. “Of course we are. Coyotes won’t come close to this place, especially with a fire going. Bears are a different story, though. Last year, my dad shot one right off the back porch.”
I tugged the blanket tighter. “Not helping.”
Landon released another deep laugh. “Such a city girl. Don’t worry. We’re just fine. You’d better get used to it out here, though.”
I looked up at him. “Why’s that?”
He squeezed me. “Can’t imagine not sitting next to a campfire with you again.”
It was easy to get caught up in the fairy tale. Landon was talented, rugged, and hella sexy, especially while cooking steak and potatoes on an open fire like some sort of tattooed cowboy. But still…an avid hunter? And the rugged lifestyle of future cabin living?
I gulped. I was a city girl. There was something comforting about the fact that I was able to run down to the corner market at three a.m. for tampons and a jumbo fountain pop if I needed them. I always envisioned raising my children where we would be surrounded by galleries and museums, and they would hear street musicians playing for tips on the corners.
Landon wanted to raise his kids in the woods…with guns.
That being said, I also always envisioned my future with Gabe. And it was painfully clear now that that was a pipe dream that would never, ever come true. Especially with Gabe back in Seattle at that very moment, doing God knows what with…her. Maybe it was time for a new dream?
“I’ll take you backpacking up at the summit of the Cascade pass this summer. We can stop at this amazing cliff, and I’ll cook some trout on the fire.” Landon beamed at me. “Do you like trout? And backpacking?”
I shook my head, overwhelmed. “I…um…yes?”
“Great!” His fingers raised the back of my shirts, finding skin underneath, and began tracing those figure eights on my back. A shockwave shot straight to my belly, igniting a fire that rivaled the one warming us. “We can also do some camping in Oregon. Do you like Oregon?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m thinking about applying for some stylist positions at a few salons in Portland.”
Landon’s posture stiffened. “Why would you do that?”
“Well…” I didn’t want to explain that until recently I’d been harboring feelings for my ex-boyfriend-slash-best friend, and that moving away from the city where they would be living in marital bliss seemed like the best thing to do. Instead, I went with this: “I’ve got a chance to be lead stylist in Portland. The business is saturated in Seattle. It’s a good opportunity.”
“What would happen with us?” he asked. His eyes were wide and concerned, and my insides squeezed.
“We’ve only been dating a month,” I said weakly, my resolve starting to melt into pudding under his heavy gaze.
“I guess I’ll have to convince you to stay.” The corner of Landon’s mouth tugged upward. His eyes were really quite lovely in the firelight.
“Oh, you will, will you?”
“Yeah.” He looped
his arm around my waist, gasping me firmly against his body. The cold metal of his belt bit at my hip, and I shuddered. “Listen, I know it’s only been a few weeks. And I know I’m breaking all the rules right now, but…”
He wasn’t really going to go there already, was he? I looked up at him despite the nervous roil in my stomach and licked my lips. He really was begging to be kissed, with his mussed hair and crinkled eyes.
“I’m really falling for you, Violet.”
Yup, he went there.
“I…” …was unsure what to say next. This was moving so fast. But damn it all to hell if I wasn’t falling for him, too. His warm eyes, his happy-go-lucky nature—cripes, even his fondness for the backwoods of Washington state—all added up to this incredible man lying next to me under a star-filled sky. It was too picturesque not to get caught up in the moment.
“It’s okay.” Landon hooked his hand behind my knee and brought it up over his hip. “You don’t have to say anything back right now. As long as you know where I stand. I…I think I love you.”
This is getting heavy! my mind screamed. But my body said otherwise. Go with it, go with it…
“But I don’t want you to say it back until you’re ready.” His hand glided along my thigh, coming to rest on my backside.
I swallowed. Hard.
I wanted to say “I love you” back. Really, I did. He looked so earnest, lying there next to the fire with me, his eyes wide. The flames licking upward, warming us despite the late winter chill in the air. My head was buzzing, and I wasn’t sure if it was because Landon’s touch was so intoxicating, or if it was because of the wine I’d drank. I didn’t even care.
I was there with Landon, and he’d just pledged his love to me. He’d driven me to a beautiful cabin in the woods, cooked me dinner over an open fire, and even placed lanterns along a path so I wouldn’t trip. He’d gone above and beyond to make Valentine’s Day amazing for me. Most women would be willing to forfeit their left arm for such treatment.
I propped myself up on my elbow and kissed Landon with all of the fervor and passion I could muster, winding my hands into his hair and tugging it slightly. The couple of men I’d slept with since high school had never taken the time to treat me with such care, such consideration. It chipped away at my hard-candy-shell exterior. He cupped my face as I was leaning over him, placing row after row of kisses along his prickly jawline, then down along his neck.
Landon groaned and raised his head off the blanket, looking at me with thirsty eyes. “Do you want to go inside?”
I shook my head and bit my lip. “Nope.”
I leaned back to admire the collage of pictures and words decorating his chest and arms. Landon really was beautiful, with the bleached tips of his hair standing on end, and his fingers grazing my skin, the cool metal of his rings sending a tickle up my back.
“Are you cold?” he whispered into my hair, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin just below my ear.
“A little.”
“I’ll warm you up.” His lips moved against my skin.
…
A few hours later I was in the kitchen, wrapped up in the very blanket we’d been tangled up in earlier. Somewhere during our interlude in front of the fire, I managed to misplace every article of my clothing. I stared at my bra, which was strewn on the back steps and appeared to have started frosting, and contemplated whether or not I wanted to risk the cold to retrieve it.
I giggled excitedly as I stared through the kitchen window at my frozen underwear. Landon loved me, and he’d shown me exactly how much. Twice. He was incredible. He wanted a future with me. He wanted to travel, try new foods, get a dog, and build a cabin in the woods with me. Well, I still needed to think the cabin thing over…
He also wanted me to meet his folks. That was important. Most guys avoided that step. But not Landon. He was close to his mom, and proud to be with me. Things were moving fast, but dear God, it all felt so good.
I heard something shift in the other room and peeked around the corner to see Landon asleep on the couch where I left him, the corner of a blanket barely covering him as he slumbered. I gazed at him, reading the words written in Gaelic across his shoulder blades, and my skin prickled at the sight of his smooth arms cradling the pillow the same way he’d held me just an hour before.
I crept over to the back door and opened it, stepping outside into the frosty mountain air.
“Shit,” I hissed, pulling the blanket tighter around my bare body as I tiptoed across the deck to retrieve my clothes. “Who has sex outside in the middle of February?”
I scooped up my clothes and darted for the house as soundlessly as possible. I shoved my hand into the pocket of my jeans and sighed in the darkness as soon as I found the cold, smooth plastic of my cell phone. I hadn’t checked for messages in hours. I pressed the button, illuminating it to see that I’d received an e-mail from none other than Gabe. The overexcited herd of pterodactyls in my gut returned, and I took flight right off the carpeted floor.
“Hey, Vi…
It’s probably too late, but I never did get to wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day. Was just thinking about you. Hope you’re thinking about me.
Later, G.”
“Whatcha doing?” Landon’s deep voice rumbled from behind me.
“Oh, hi.” I whirled around right as he came into the room with nothing but his boxer briefs on. I fumbled to keep my blanket up as he approached.
Landon released a deep laugh that closed the space between us. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re shy now? You didn’t seem to need that blanket an hour ago.”
My face went scarlet, and Landon put his arms underneath the patchwork quilt. As soon as his face was buried in my shoulder, I dropped my BlackBerry onto a nearby chair and returned his embrace.
I didn’t want to think about Gabe again tonight….
Chapter Ten
November 12, 2003
The last few weeks have been the worst in my life. Gabe has stopped acknowledging my presence altogether. Nora came over to my house every day last week asking what was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her. When I came down here to Utah, my mother reminded me that it was all for the best. But I don’t know if living with my dad and his idiot kids and crank wife is helping at all.
Flopping down on my bed the day after Valentine’s Day, I began to count the cracks in the ceiling spackle as I dialed Gabe’s number. My heart soared as soon as he picked up the phone. “Hey, Vi.”
“Gabe. Long time no talk. How’s it going?”
“Good. Just busy with work, and…you know.”
“Wedding planning?”
“Ugh, yes. If I see one more centerpiece, I’m going to punch something.”
“Wow. Sensing some aggression. So how was your Valentine’s Day?”
“Good. I made dinner for Alicia, and then we just hung out.”
“Yeah, right. Alicia isn’t the hangin’ out type.”
“She hangs out.”
“Sure, she does.”
“What about you and What’s-His-Name? Bikes and tattoos? Beer bongs and a rousing game of quarters?”
“Ha, ha. Shut up. Landon took me to his parents’ place in the mountains and cooked dinner over a fire. It was very romantic.”
“Nice. Did you get lucky?”
“Stop.”
“What?”
“I’m not discussing it with you.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“So you did sleep with him?”
“Knock it off, Gabe.”
“Okay, okay. So what did you need to speak to me about, Vi?”
“Well, I…”
“Were Alicia’s friends nice? They can be sort of intense.”
“Well, not really.”
“Dammit. I told Alicia that they’d better be nice. Sorry.”
“That’s not what I was texting you about.”
“Well, what was it then?”<
br />
“It’s just that…well, I…you see, when I was leaving, I…”
“Spit it out.”
“Something came up as I was leaving, and I was surprised to hear that Alicia knew about it.”
“What came up?”
“Well…actually, Cameron Hakes came up.”
Silence.
“Gabe?”
“Alicia brought up Cameron?”
“Yeah.”
Silence, again.
“Gabe?”
“So why do you need to talk to me about it?”
“Well, for starters, why did you tell Alicia about that?”
“Listen, I’m on my way into a meeting, and I’ve got to get my presentation together. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
“Fine. Whatever. When works best for you?”
“I can meet you before work tomorrow morning.”
“Great. Where?”
“My place. Six-thirty.”
“Six-thirty in the morning?”
“I’ve got a seven-thirty meeting.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“See you then. And, hey…”
“Yeah?”
“I, uh…never mind. See you then, Vi.”
…
The next day, I knocked on Gabe’s apartment door. My palms were sweating, my knees were knocking, and it felt like oxygen was low in his high-rise building. There wasn’t enough coffee in Seattle to prepare me for this conversation.
“Hi.” Gabe grinned and held out a mug of steaming goodness when I walked through his door. He looked bushy-tailed as ever—he’d always been a morning person, the complete opposite of me—and already wearing one of his tailor-made suits and a charcoal gray button-down shirt. The aroma of shaving cream lingered like an invisible cloud, and he’d nicked himself just below his jawline. I bit my lip to keep from pressing a kiss against it.