She’d foolishly hoped he’d kiss her good-bye when his team came to pick him up. They’d eaten dinner at the VFW. Listened to the Blue Monkeys play a set. Talked about the fire and how the lodge at the Evergreen Resort had survived.
All through dinner she’d wondered how she’d survive letting him walk out of her life. A foolish thought, because he’d barely been in it.
But while he had, he’d made her feel like she mattered. The fact that he chased her down… It made her feel as if she wasn’t the one clinging. That she wasn’t forcing him to like her...
“Aunt Liza, you’re blushing. Which means you’re not telling me everything, are you? Did he kiss you?”
Liza pressed a hand to her cheek. “He didn’t really kiss me.”
Sadly. Even though he’d had the chance. They’d stood outside the restaurant in the shadows as the Jude County buggy pulled up, his buddies inside, and right then she hoped he’d turn to her, search her face, and even if just quickly, kiss her.
But, no. Because he hadn’t wanted to give her the wrong idea.
A true gentleman.
“I told you, we’re just friends.”
And if that’s all they’d ever be, then that was enough.
Really.
Raina hustled off to her room, and a few minutes later Liza heard the shower. Tried to scrape her thoughts away from the fact that Conner had used that shower nearly a year ago.
Tried to forget the way he came out, towel-drying his wet hair, looking rugged and hungry.
Oh, shoot. She shouldn’t let him in to roam around her thoughts. God was enough, hello and amen. She didn’t need a man to be complete or happy. And especially not one who couldn’t make her any promises to stick around.
Liza finished lunch, stopped by Raina’s room to tell her she’d see her at the dragon boat festival parade, watched her leave, and then paid bills at her desk.
Took out the envelope and read the letter again.
She shouldn’t put her life on hold for a man.
Liza wrote a response to Vitae. Sealed it. Then she changed for the parade on the harbor—out of her paint-splattered capris into a clean T-shirt, jeans, flip-flops, and a coat.
She picked up the envelope and was just leaving the house when the phone rang. Liza stood on the porch, listening, holding the doorknob.
Aw, shoot.
She answered just before it went over to her machine.
“Liza?”
Her traitorous heart expanded three sizes at the sound of his voice. Roughened, as if he’d eaten a lot of smoke. Tired.
“Conner. How are you?” She always kept her voice even, a little surprised, but not so much that she put the wrong emotions in it.
“I just got back from three weeks in Arizona. Thought I’d call you...”
She sat down on the sofa, smoothing the envelope on her lap. “You sound tired.”
A pause, and she could imagine him as she’d seen him on the beach, sooty, wrung out, maybe a little shaken.
“Please tell me you didn’t get hurt or lose anyone.” Oh, maybe too much worry, but—
“No. I’m fine. But it was pretty rough. I just...” His voice wavered, and she wanted to reach out, through the phone. “Nothing. How are you?”
Nothing? She wanted to chase that, but instead answered his question, filling him in on Raina and the update on Evergreen Resort and today’s dragon boat race, and she hadn’t even realized how much she’d been talking until the silence echoed on the other end.
“Conner?”
She’d bored him into slumber.
A pause. “Conner?”
“I’m here. I was just thinking...how nice it would be to be in Deep Haven again. That view of the sunrise over the harbor. And we could grab a burger at the VFW...”
Was he actually missing—no. But, “Our annual Fisherman’s Picnic is coming up in a couple of weeks.”
She didn’t exactly know why she’d said that and hated even the hint of hope in her voice.
“Will you be giving demonstrations?”
She wanted to laugh, but his question reached in, filled her heart with painful hope. “Of course.”
She wanted to wince at her breezy, too-high tone.
“That sounds amazing.”
Another beat, and maybe he was waiting for her to add a real invitation to their banter.
But that would mean—what? That she wanted to be more than friends? A sure way to send Conner running the opposite direction, if she knew men. And, sad, pitiful her, she’d rather have his friendship than nothing at all.
Still—what if—
“I’d hop a plane in a second if I could.”
He would? “Then you should come—”
“But I need to go see my grandfather. He’s still fighting cancer and just finished another round of chemo...”
Right. Exactly. “Oh, Conner, I’m sorry. Yes, of course. He needs you.”
“It’s a nice idea, though. Maybe after the season is over.” He said it casually, however, his tone saying never.
And that was the confirmation she needed. “I’ll be praying for your grandfather.” And for you. Which she did every day.
Probably, that was part of the problem. She prayed for him, thought about him, yes, even dreamed of him every day.
And he conjured her up only when he was tired, bored, or even just needing a friendly ear.
Exactly how just friends behaved. Hello and pay attention.
“Thanks. I appreciate the prayers. It’s nice to hear your voice.”
“You too. That’s what friends are for, right? Be safe.”
“Take care, Liza.” He clicked off.
She sat there, a shadow over her heart she didn’t want to acknowledge. But yes, maybe she needed Vitae just as much as they needed her.
She got up, locked the door behind her, and dropped the letter in the mailbox.
Chapter 5
If Liza was looking to hide from him, she’d picked the most picturesque place on the planet.
And maybe the hottest.
Around Conner, the striated red-rock formations of Sedona rose above the lush green pine and juniper of the valley bordering the city, and especially the Vitae artists’ enclave, located just a dozen miles north of Sedona. With adobe buildings clustered around a main house, expansive patios, and decks tucked into the forest, the place looked like a place someone might find healing.
Not that Liza needed healing—after all, she’d come to teach. But maybe he did.
Conner ran his hand over his freshly cut hair—it felt strange to have it off his neck—and stepped out of the convertible Camaro he’d rented. A bit of an extravagance, but the entire trip seemed impulsive and over the top. Driven by some errant, rabid emotion he couldn’t seem to tame.
Thankfully, Gilly Priest, a pilot for the Jude County smokejumpers, was a romantic and agreed to fly him down to Arizona.
For the day.
And no, Liza probably wasn’t hiding from him. Not when he’d been the one doing a disappearing act from her life over the past year.
A year where he watched his grandfather dwindle from a robust cowboy to skin and bones, his eyes wracked with pain.
Conner should have called her, but he’d been simply overwhelmed with the daily tasks of medicine and feeding. And then his grandfather’s passing simply blew a hole through him.
Thankfully, Grandpa possessed a faith that Conner desperately fought to hang on to.
Romans 8:28. All things work together for good.
It didn’t feel like it.
Maybe that’s what this trip was about. Finding hope again.
Finding Liza again.
Conner shut the car door, stood in the circular drive, not sure if this was the right place. Her niece on the other end of the phone in Deep Haven had given him the address, reluctantly, he could admit.
Which only confirmed that he should have called. Much earlier.
And, probably, this was a very bad idea. Bec
ause friends didn’t just drop off the planet...
Oh, who was he kidding? In his mind, Liza had become much more than a friend. Lifeline. Encourager.
Light.
No wonder his world felt so dark.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, headed for the giant double oak doors, the word Vitae etched into them. A sign on the door asked visitors to ring the bell.
He heard it chime inside, waited for footsteps.
Nothing.
And probably he deserved that. The man who’d let something good die didn’t deserve to show up, have her waiting with open arms.
He turned, put his hands on his hips, surveying the rocks, trying to figure out if he should just go in, or maybe wander around—
“Conner?”
He closed his eyes, just for a second, to mask the sudden rush of relief. Took a breath.
Then turned.
She was just as beautiful as he remembered from that moment he met her two years ago, in Deep Haven—more, probably. She wore white—appropriate, perhaps, for the image she’d conjured in his mind over the past year. A flowy dress with a thick waist and an off-the-shoulder neckline, full sleeves, and a long skirt that dropped to just above her ankles. Sandals on her feet, turquoise beads at her neck, and her long, beautiful mane, shiny like chocolate gold in the sunlight.
He found the courage to meet her eyes. As rich as he remembered, espresso, that warm, delicious jolt that went right through him to his bones.
Fortifying. Then she smiled, nothing of reproach or accusation in her expression.
As if she were genuinely, positively, thrilled to see him.
His raw, fraying heart gave a thump of joy in his chest. Wow, he might need to sit down with the way his legs were giving out.
“I can’t believe it. How did you find me?” She walked over to him, and only then did he realize that she was holding a sketch pad and pencils.
His mouth had gone dry, so he swallowed, found his voice. “I called your house and...I’m so sorry, Liza. I know it’s been a while...”
His a while, aka a year since he’d last talked to her, flickered in her eyes ever so briefly and he braced himself, added, “I missed you.”
And if that didn’t sound pitiful and make him want to run for his car—
But then she loosened the coil in his chest with a shrug. “I figured you were busy. I kept praying for you...”
Oh, how he didn’t deserve that. Deserve her.
“Am I interrupting?”
“Nope. It’s the summer session, and I’m artist in residence right now. No classes.” She took a step toward him. “How’s your grandfather?” She was on the porch, so close he could touch her. Wanted to, especially when he smelled something sweet and floral lifting off her skin.
Needed, really, to feel her arms around him.
“He passed away.” About six months ago, but he didn’t add that.
More shame, and not a little self-pity, because maybe he could have appreciated her being at the funeral. Or even just in his life as he’d packed up and sold the ranch he’d grown up on. Or even since then, caught in the middle of a brutal fire season.
“Oh, Conner, I’m so sorry.” She lifted her hand to reach out to him, then let it fall, as if she didn’t want to assume.
Assume. Please.
“Thanks. I should have called you.”
“No. You were busy, and I know what he meant to you.”
And he had to look away, because, yeah, she did. Get a hold of yourself. He hadn’t come here for pity.
“So, I was in the area...”
Lie. But if he told her he’d hopped a plane as soon as Raina gave him the information, that would sound way too needy.
And, he might have his heart on his sleeve, but Liza had never offered, or even hinted, at anything more than friendship.
So... “And I was thinking about that time you said you wondered what it was like to be a smokejumper. So I thought it would be fun to go skydiving.”
She raised an eyebrow.
She had said that, right? Because he knew that he did most of the talking—oh no. What if it was just one of her comments, the kind she didn’t mean. Like her comment last summer about him visiting her in Deep Haven.
He’d nearly said yes before his common sense kicked in. Right. The last thing she needed was a guy in her life living moment by moment, not sure what his future would be. Afraid to take a look at it, frankly.
“I mean, I thought—”
“Yes.” She smiled at him then, a spark of what he’d seen when he’d first met her. Adventure, warmth.
And he might have missed it before, but her smile also contained a sense of anticipation.
“I’d love to go skydiving with you.”
It all broke free then, that darkness that had suffocated him, and in its place, light.
Liza.
“When?”
“Right now, bay-bee.” And yeah, he added flirt to his tone. Because he wasn’t here just to see his friend.
He fully intended on seeing if Liza wanted more, just as much as he did.
#
She didn’t want to call it a date—but that’s exactly what it felt like. Driving ninety miles to the Grand Canyon, stopping at an airstrip. Meeting Conner’s friend Gilly, who apparently was waiting for him—them.
As if he’d prearranged his so-called in the neighborhood, whimsical, let’s-go-skydiving-or-whatever outing.
It only got more confusing as he gave her a short lesson on what to expect. Then he plopped a helmet on her head, they’d climbed into the belly of Gilly’s little red-and-white airplane. He’d strapped on parachute pack, then attached her to him by her tandem harness.
They took off, and Liza felt pretty sure she’d lost her brains.
They’d definitely dislodged an hour ago when she’d spied a man standing on the stoop of Vitae’s front entry. It took her a full five seconds for her brain to recognize him.
Conner?
Lean and wide-shouldered, he wore a navy T-shirt and cargo shorts, hiking sandals, his blond hair short and tousled by the wind.
For a second, her heart had hiccupped. But no, it couldn’t be.
And then he’d turned to stare at the vista, his hands on his hips, and she knew she’d seen that pose before.
On a beach in Minnesota as he considered the sunrise.
It took her a heartbeat for the realization to emerge. After a year of silence, their last conversation just before she left for Arizona, when she felt sure that their friendship had simply run its course, Conner Young had tracked her down.
She’d probably fallen painfully, irrevocably in love with him somewhere between “I missed you” and “I was thinking about that time...”
Oh, who was she kidding. It was long before that.
But the idea that he thought about her enough to miss her…
She didn’t want to consider further than that, or the fact that he’d actually not been in the area but had flown down with Gilly from Montana...
No. Not for her.
Because that would mean, to use Raina’s words, that he was into her, too.
Liza should simply hold on and have fun with her adventurous, hot, brave, muscled just friend. With beautiful blue eyes and a smile that, when he directed it her way, made her feel beautiful.
Oh, she was so playing with fire to have agreed to be locked in his arms, even if it was to jump from a plane, her life in his hands.
This was really going to hurt.
#
“You’re still flying, aren’t you?” Conner said a couple of hours later as he came to the car carrying two coffees. He handed her one. “That happens after a jump—you sort of relive it over and over, experiencing those endorphins.”
Oh, those were the source of her endorphins? She wanted to attribute it to the sense of his arms around her, his voice in her ear as they’d drifted down like a cloud, locked together.
“Yeah,” she said, sipping the coff
ee, thankful for the bracing effect that might put her feet back on the ground. “Except I’ll bet it doesn’t feel like that when you’re jumping into a fire.”
He put on his sunglasses, aviators. “No. You’re just hoping you don’t get blown into the flames, or caught on a tree, or land in a river, or even twist your ankle on the landing. Because then that means you’ve put your entire team at risk. Someone might have to hike out with you, and for sure, you don’t do your job as well.”
He put his coffee in the holder, pulled out of the lot.
They stopped in Oak Creek Canyon on the way back, and he found an ice-cream stand, treated her to a double-chocolate mint.
Now, with the afternoon late, the sun heavy on the horizon, she could admit she didn’t want their ‘date’ to end. She couldn’t remember having so much fun. Laughing at Conner’s stories about mishaps on the fire line, the rookie hotshots. “I still can’t believe that Tucker Newman joined the team.”
“He’s working for Jed on the hotshot crew. He has the look of a smokejumper in his eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried out for the team next year.”
“Clearly you made an impact on him.”
She looked away before he could see it her eyes—that he’d made an impact on her, too.
“That summer in Deep Haven was...it was impactful for everyone,” he said cryptically.
Then, just as she hoped he might elaborate, he fell silent as they closed in on Sedona. He said nothing even as they pulled up to Vitae. He put the car in park, and she didn’t know what to say.
Thank you for finding me? For giving me an amazing day?
For being my friend.
Except, that’s not what she wanted—not at all. But she had a code, one that said she wasn’t going to read more than there was into a relationship.
She reached for the handle.
His hand on her arm stopped her. “Liza—uh. I have a question.”
She looked at him, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes.
“I don’t want—I mean.” He blew out a breath. “I was going to hike Doe Mountain, catch the sunset. And I was wondering if you would...will you come with me?”
Playing With Fire: inspirational romantic suspense (Montana Fire Book 2) Page 6