by Jo Leigh
Damn it, the guilt wasn’t easing but he didn’t want to ruin their last night together.
What if all this—the phone calls, flying to Chicago, her coming here—was holding Jenna back from finding someone she could build a life with? They didn’t talk about it, really. So far the physical distance between them had made it easy to overlook problems that would torpedo most relationships.
The phenomenal sex didn’t help. It was the best, most adventurous and just plain hot sex he’d ever had. But the idea of not talking to her, not flying wherever he needed to go, not being inside her, made him ache in a way he’d never once felt even watching Faith kiss another man.
He’d always known that he and Jenna could only ever be friends. Well, no, that wasn’t accurate. In the beginning, yes, their relationship had been very clear to him. But to be honest, it had turned to gray very quickly. Tonight he’d had a taste of what it would be like with Jenna. To really be with her.
He liked it. A hell of a lot. But the phone could ring any minute, and he’d have to rush out the door straight into an oncoming storm.
She’d told him the kind of man she wanted for the long run. She’d never been coy about it. Being with him... It would make both of them miserable. He wasn’t going to do that to Jenna.
He just needed to be more careful, that was all. More aware. After this trip, maybe they shouldn’t talk every night. He should give her some space to start dating again. Even if he had no desire to date, she might.
Jesus. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t stand to think about her seeing someone else. It would kill him to know. But he’d have to know eventually. Because it could mean the end of their...whatever it was they had.
Of course it would end them. Shit. He needed to get real. Because he cared too much about her to stand in the way of her moving on.
Well, goddamn it. This was a hell of a way to discover that he was in love.
* * *
JENNA WAS STILL futzing with the big bowl of popcorn, making sure the top didn’t close all the way so the steam wouldn’t make the popcorn soggy, when Rick asked, “How did you like driving the Jeep? Have any trouble?”
The popcorn instantly forgotten, she spun to face him, her eyes huge and excited. “It was awesome. The Rubicon totally rocks. I love it so, so much, I can’t even describe it.”
Surprised, Rick laughed. Definitely not the reaction he’d expected. “Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I’ve been replaced by a Jeep.”
“Sorry, but yeah. I felt like king of the road in that thing. You know how terrible traffic is in Boston. If I drove that baby in the city, there’d be semis and Hummers and me. Everyone else had better get the hell out of the way.”
Rick really laughed. “This is a whole side of you I haven’t seen.” He needed this comic relief. He’d tried to lighten up over dinner, and for the most part he believed he’d pulled it off. But seeing her like this...this was great. He’d worried about her driving the Jeep for nothing. Maybe their differences weren’t so great after all.
“Puts my little Camry to shame,” she said, turning back to the popcorn. “Maybe I’ll trade it in.”
“You don’t want a Rubicon where you live.” Rick watched her put things on a tray. “I don’t know about watching a movie. Or the popcorn, since I just ate my weight’s worth of the best lasagna ever.”
“Let’s just start a movie.” Jenna used her I’m-completely-unaware-of-subtext smile. “Then we can maybe do something else.”
“Look,” he said. “I’m all in favor of bribing me with sex. Works for me, every time. But, and I may be wrong, using it to watch a movie? What could you possibly want to see that would be worth throwing down bribes?”
“I think Ladyhawke is on tonight, and I haven’t seen it in years. It’s one of my favorites. Although, I should have checked the time and channel. But here,” she said, giving him the popcorn bowl and then grabbing them drinks.
“Uh, Rutger Hauer?”
“And Michelle Pfeiffer,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, and then leading him to the stairs.
“And now you’re enticing me with pretty women? Does she get naked in this movie?”
“No.”
“Does she mention me by name?”
Jenna laughed. “Several times.”
“Oh, okay, then. Let’s give it a go. But first, I must insist that we take off all our clothes.”
Entering the bedroom, Jenna pulled off her red sweater. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll agree to wearing one of your T-shirts and my panties.”
“Ah,” Rick said. “The classics. Good choice.”
It didn’t take them long to settle into the TV-watching position. Pillows behind them, popcorn between them, lots of napkins on either side. He barely remembered Ladyhawke. It wasn’t exactly his kind of movie. If memory served, the ending of this film was really, really—no kidding—really schmaltzy.
“It started twenty minutes ago.” Jenna sounded so sad, he wanted to kiss her. Help her feel better.
Instead he told her, “I don’t mind. I think I remember someone escaping from some medieval prison or something, by using the Shawshank maneuver.”
“Close enough.” She leaned over and kissed him very sweetly. “Thank you.”
“Do I have your word that even if I fall asleep, you’ll wake me for sex?”
She tipped her head to the right. “On my last night here? What do you think?”
Her last night. Rick tried to smile, for Jenna’s sake. But he wasn’t feeling it.
* * *
JENNA HADN’T SEEN the film in ages. When she’d seen it for the first time, she’d fallen deeply in lust with Rutger Hauer and the wondrously happy ending. Matthew Broderick had been a revelation, and, well, she’d been young. Watching it now with Rick, she wasn’t sure how she felt.
“You really think of this as a romance?” Rick asked, his hand steadily moving from the popcorn bowl to his mouth. Despite all his protestations that he was far too full.
“Of course it is. True love, a wicked curse that keeps them apart, the fight to find a way back to each other. What film are you watching?”
“I don’t really see it that way. By all rights, they shouldn’t have been able to break the curse. It’s a tragic love story with a cheat at the end.”
“But the cheat at the end isn’t that outrageous. People knew what eclipses were. And the priest felt guilty, so...”
“Well,” he said, shaking his head. “The beauty of the film is that the two of them can never have what they desire. They’re destined to just miss each other every sunrise and every sunset.”
“Well, that’s romance, too. If they never give up.”
“Then neither of them can ever be happy. Which is basically a tragedy.”
Jenna sighed. “No. Because loving someone despite the odds is every romance. And Navarre still had to win her at the end.”
“See, I think they had to add that. Take a film like, um, Witness. They can never be together. Their worlds are so far apart. It’s still a love story, but there was no magic trick in the end to give them a happily-ever-after. He had to leave her if either of them were ever going to find happiness.”
“Fine,” she said. “But here comes the part where Michelle runs into his arms, so shhh. Eat your popcorn quietly, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She watched the rest of the film, but he’d ruined it for her. Not intentionally. She was certain for him it was simply a discussion about the film. For her, though...all she could think about was their own impending tragedy.
Being here had been so great. With the exception of that little blip when he’d gotten home, when she’d realized she had gone a little overboard, it had been a perfect we
ek. Waking up to his smile, laughing together, going out to dinner and making love without a care in the world.
Knowing he’d be there at the end of the day.
There was this line on a TV show she loved. The main characters said it to each other. I love you and I like you. She’d been thinking about that for a couple of days now, but she couldn’t figure out a way to get there. Not with Rick. As much as she...who was she kidding? As much as she loved him, they were destined to be friends until one of them met the right person.
When the movie ended, she took away the popcorn bowl so there was nothing between them. All it took was one kiss, and yes, her hand going around his cock, to wash away any lingering thoughts about endings and things that could never be.
She didn’t rush things. Once he was hard, she skimmed her palm over his dark thatch of hair, then above it, carefully, slowly, memorizing.
It felt like he’d had the same idea. It was a slow burn, where every inch of him had a place in her memory, one she could pull out when she needed to. Even as she stroked him, his hands had touched her in the same way. Wanting to pause the world for an hour while they touched each other everywhere.
“I don’t want to go home,” she whispered, her mouth very close to his ear. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Me, too,” he whispered back, and she thought she heard a break in his voice.
He had to move to do it, but he found a way that both of them could keep exploring. Now, they could kiss.
Perfect. Talking was overrated. And she couldn’t quite trust herself not to cry.
17
RICK’S CELL PHONE rang at 3:45 a.m. He tried to grab it quickly and quietly, but Jenna had awakened at the first ring.
“Okay,” he said. “No, it’s fine. “
He was leaving. Jenna wasn’t groggy anymore. The most likely reason for him to get a call at this hour was a tornado.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice almost free of the postsleep slurring. “Except for Gordo. Maybe Elizabeth? And if she can’t, try Jonah. Yeah. Okay. Thirty.” He hung up and looked at her. “Rotten timing but duty calls.”
“A tornado? Is it close?”
“Nope. About four hours away, heading for Topeka, but it’s not even a tornado yet. The projection is high for a cluster event, so my team will drive up with a new kind of mobile radar and see what we see. The bad part is I doubt I’ll be able to get back before you have to leave. I wanted to take you to the airport.”
“But a cluster event. You must be excited about that, yes?”
He turned to her, moving close enough to kiss. “Yeah. There’s a lot we need to learn about them. But what’s way more important is that I wanted to make out here before we made out in the car before we went to the airport.”
“Well, if there’s going to be a tornado, maybe I won’t be able to go tonight?”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. Your flight might see a bit of rain, but not much, so, the worst you’ll have to put up with is snoring neighbors. Are you able to sleep on a red-eye?”
She knew he was changing the subject, and she let him. There wasn’t much she could do to stop him from driving four hours straight into danger. She doubted she’d sleep until Rick was home safe. “Yeah,” she said, hoping the lie didn’t show. “I’m out the minute we take off.”
His smile was so tender it made her whole chest constrict, and that was a precursor to crying, which she absolutely refused to do. He did this all the time. It was part of his job, for heaven’s sake.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, touching her cheek. “I’ll be able to text you during the drive, although there’s no telling what kind of communication we’ll have when we’re in the thick of things. But I’ll definitely let you know when it’s over, okay?”
She nodded again and then kissed him, hugging him so tightly she’d probably leave a bruise.
Why in hell had she been so excited to see Ladyhawke? She hadn’t slept well because of it. The disagreement she’d had with Rick hadn’t been about the movie. It had been about them. About their future together. Even if he did come home safe and sound, new tornadoes would form, tearing apart lives like a scythe cutting wheat. She wished she hadn’t learned so much about them. Like what the enhanced Fujita scale actually meant, and how there wasn’t anything a person could do when the roof of a barn was swept up and smashed your truck to a tin can.
But what she could do was be an adult, and not make him feel any guilt at all.
“Thank you for my housewarming gift,” he said when they ended the kiss. “You’re right. It was a perfect popcorn bowl. And man, that lasagna? You should go into business for yourself. Seriously, best lasagna ever.”
Jenna couldn’t help smiling. “Well, look at that. To absolutely no one’s surprise you’re still, above all, a very nice man.”
He winced. “I try.”
“It makes all the difference. Now leave, because if you think I’m staying awake at this hour you’re nuts. Oh, wait. I can get the coffee going. You must have a thermos somewhere, right?”
“I’ll get coffee at the lab. And I’ll text you. Damn it, I miss you already.”
She sniffed, but smiled right up until he walked into the master bath. And was left with nothing but his scent clinging to his pillow.
It was amazing how quickly he was dressed. Another quick kiss on her temple, a hand over her hair, then he and his heavy Doc Martens clomped downstairs. She heard him drop something in the kitchen. It didn’t sound as if it broke.
After that? Silence. Sadness.
Endings.
* * *
OF COURSE, HIS TEAM had rushed in after getting the call. They were students from the University of Oklahoma, each of them very excited about what was to come. They’d hit the road quickly—after all, this is what they’d been trained for—and they all knew what to do. Now, in the truck, when they weren’t trying to get comfortable, they were telling jokes, mostly about him. Standard protocol on these excursions, but only if they liked the boss. He wasn’t complaining, just groaning and rolling his eyes. He was also texting Jenna like a seventh grader because he had seen the fear in her eyes. She really was a terrible liar.
He texted her a bit about the group. Three of the six had been on a tornado run with him before, and the other three had attended classes at U of O, including some he taught. The closer they got to the storms, the higher the tension rose. But each of them understood that they were going to make a difference. The data they collected was ultimately going to save lives. Hell, he was excited, too.
And while he couldn’t do much to assuage Jenna now, once he was clear of the storm he’d call her. Let her know he was still in one piece. And some time in the future she might be interested in listening to what he did on these expeditions. Rick recorded everything once the action started, and explained every observation. Jonah would be filming, too, which was even better, because she’d see that it was safety first, always. And that his equipment and his team were never closer than a mile to any active core.
In his whole career, no one on any of his teams had ever been hurt. He wished he could say that across the board, but sometimes, shit happened and weather, despite all they knew, was fickle. Not that anyone had died, but in 2008, one of the teams had been banged up something fierce. A freak vortex, something they didn’t understand too well back then, had caught them by surprise.
The science had blossomed in the last ten years. Thrilling stuff. He loved what he did. Where he worked, at the center of everything tornado.
“Come on, boss. It’s your turn.”
“What? It isn’t my turn if I didn’t know you were playing.”
“Haven’t you been listening?”
“No.”
Elizabeth, a promising grad student who’d be workin
g at the lab next year, pulled out Rick’s thermos of coffee. “We’re talking about why we got into climatology. And it’s your turn.”
“Well, who went before me?”
The kids laughed. “You’re first.”
“Hell, no. Ask Jonah and his group to go first, and then if we don’t like it we can shut off the walkie-talkies, say it was a glitch.”
“Uh, boss.” Aja, who worked on the Mesoscale Predictability Experiment, held up her two-way radio. “They’re already on.”
There was a lot of grumbling from the truck in front of them. Rick made the “gimme” motion to Aja and she handed him the walkie-talkie. “All you have to do is be interesting. It’s not too much to ask.”
“Then you go first,” came a voice he didn’t immediately recog— No, it was hipster James, with his weird goatee and too-short tight pants.
“Fine,” Rick said, speaking into the stupid device. For all he knew, this was all going to be recorded. “Okay, when I was just a year old and first learning to talk—”
Elizabeth snatched the walkie-talkie out of his hand. “Okay, Dr. Sinclair, if you don’t want to tell us, fine. We’d rather hear about your girlfriend, anyway.”
“My what?”
“The beautiful Jenna.”
“What the hell?” Rick shook his head. “I thought this was supposed to be about how we came to climatology.”
“Well, now it’s about you and Jenna,” Aja said. “Much more interesting.”
He sighed. There wasn’t one person in either vehicle that had less than a 4.0 GPA, and this was what they wanted to hear. “You’re all fired. Each one of you. When we get back, you can collect your last paycheck.”
“Fine,” Elizabeth said. “Tell us about when you were learning to talk.”
“It’s a mind-boggling story. Which I’m certainly not going to tell now. You guys ruined it.”
“But she is pretty,” Aja said. “I saw her in the break room.”
He couldn’t hold back his smile. “Yes, she’s a beauty. Smart as hell. Funny. Teaches English. Makes the best lasagna I’ve ever had.” He played with his cell phone, waiting to hear the ding of her reply. “She’s great. In every way but one.”