“See you up there.”
“See ya.”
And then we’re left standing there in the late spring snow, my wife and I, and I turn to her and take her hands.
“Raquel? What’s up?”
There’s something on her face I can’t read. A twitching, quick something that is back.
“I left something in the truck for you.”
“The truck?”
She nods, stuffing her hands into her pockets again as if it’s the only way to keep them from moving. “Come on.”
She swings herself quickly into the driver’s seat and begins to fuss with sorting out the fall of her coat. She can’t stop herself looking sideways to me.
I’m taking my time. There’s a brown paper bag on the passenger seat. I look at it through the window for a long beat before opening the door and stepping up, taking it onto my lap.
“Raquel…?”
“Open it.”
She can hardly breathe. What is up with her?
I reach into the bag, and I pull out something that looks like a thermometer, and my mind is totally blank.
“What’s this?”
“Look at it.”
It’s plastic. It’s thin. It’s kind of medical looking.
It’s got two lines on it. Huh. Oh yeah, there’s a guide.
One line is not pregnant.
Two lines is…
Oh my god.
I look up to Raquel. My mouth is stuffed with cotton wool and my voice comes out broken and quiet.
“Is—is this…?”
My hand is shaking where I’m holding it.
Raquel’s nod shakes tears out from her eyes. Tears that glitter as they pass over her smile, sparkling like happiness.
“Yes.”
God, she is so beautiful. Her dark eyes. Her almost-black hair. The delicate bow of her lips, and the sweep of her tongue over tears.
I’m frozen, holding onto the pregnancy test like it’s the only thing that’s real. I can’t choose to move at all. I can only sit here and shake.
“JJ.” Raquel’s voice cracks over her crying. “We’re having a baby.” Her hand hesitates before stroking over her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
Whatever’s held me breaks. I don’t feel crossing the space between us. I move so quickly that I stab myself in the solar plexus on the parking brake and it doesn’t matter. Raquel is in my arms, and it’s all I need—to hold her here, my wife, the love of my life.
Her, and, oh god, our baby. Our little boy or little girl.
Raquel wraps her arms around mine, reaching for me awkward and clumsy in the small space before the steering wheel, pressing her wet face to my body as all the tears start to shake through her.
“We’re having a baby.” I can hardly say it. “Raquel. Oh my god. Raquel.”
“I love you,” she sobs. “I love you so much.”
I squeeze her as tight as I can, holding her to me as the whole world turns on its axis.
“Big love,” is all I can say. A promise, forever.
Big, big love.
Big enough for three.
JJ
We won’t tell anyone else until three months—only the people we’re closest to, the people we’d want to share in all of our biggest joys and support us in our sadnesses. Of course the crew are going to know.
Anyway, our options are either to tell them or make up a lie, because Raquel has panda eyes, no matter how much she tries to do damage control with the visor mirror and the mini makeup bag from her purse.
As we ride up the gondola, I hold Raquel under one arm and my snowboard in the other. She presses her face to my chest, and neither of us can speak. We don’t need to. We share the same glow, and it says everything.
The others are waiting on the benches they’ve set up near the top of the gondola: Brooke, Hanne, and Hunter, the rest of the crew. They all look at us when we arrive, and then very carefully make busy with the other stuff they’re doing. I would say they’re too polite to mention Raquel’s smeared makeup… but it’s more realistic that Hanne told them she’d tear out their intestines if they said anything.
We’re not boarding yet. The others are surrounded with their gear—boards, goggles, jackets—but at the moment they’re lazing in the February sun. Chase has clearly been doing a talking head—he’s still sitting directly in front of Brooke’s camera on its tripod.
For now, though it’s our turn for an interview.
The small talk fades away as we take Chase’s space on the bench before the camera. I keep my arm tight around Raquel’s shoulders, unable to let go of her for even a minute. My grin is so wide it’s hurting my face.
Brooke clears her throat, straightening up from where she’s been leaning over the camera. I can see the question she’s desperate to ask, trapped in her mouth as she bites her lip. “Right,” she says finally. “Are you guys good to go?”
Raquel looks up at me, and we smile at each other before looking back to Brooke with a shared nod.
It’s not like Brooke to be flustered over work. She reaches one hand to fumble with her camera. “We were going to talk about your plans for this year, JJ. About the timeline.”
We were. We were going to talk about these first few days I’ve had back on my board, riding as slow as a beginner. We were going to talk about my plans for the rest of winter, and how Raquel’s supporting me.
Instead I can’t stop grinning. Hanne’s come to stand beside Brooke, her arms crossed, a smile spreading slow and sure over her face.
She’s always been the brightest one of us.
“We might want to talk about something else,” Raquel says, sounding far more composed than I know she is.
“Yeah?” Brooke says, unsure.
“Uh huh,” I agree. “There have been some big changes.”
Hunter pushes up to his feet from where he’s been flopped in the snow. “No shit?”
“What kind of changes?” Chase asks from where he’s digging jerky from a backpack on one of the tables.
Raquel laughs, like she can’t believe it, and I squeeze her tighter.
My whole life, I’ve wanted kids. I’ve always loved the idea of being a dad.
And this moment…
I wouldn’t exchange it for any helicopter drop in the world.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
Brooke jerks straight so quickly that she knocks her tripod over. Hunter lets out a low whistle, his eyes wide.
“No fucking way,” Chase says. He’s dropped the jerky and is stepping over, stopping a few paces away and raising his arms before scrubbing his hands through his hair, as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Are you serious?”
Hanne, though? Hanne isn’t waiting for confirmation. She’s already collapsing on us, grabbing the laughing Raquel in one arm and me in the other, pressing her face between our heads and kissing each of our cheeks.
“I knew it! Oh my god. Congratulations.”
Her love hits us like a puppy, and if I smile any wider my face will break. For almost twenty years Hanne’s been my friend; for five she’s been a friend of our relationship. She, of all people, knows how much this means to us.
“I told you little Jaquels would happen,” Hanne says to Brooke as she straightens.
Raquel laughs. “Jaquels?”
“She really did,” Brooke says. She comes forward for her own hug, squeezing me and then Raquel. “I’m so happy for you. How far along are you?”
Raquel laughs again at that, sliding into my side and giving me a squeeze. “I literally just told him. I took three tests this morning.”
“Oh my god.” Brooke makes a squealing sound of excitement that I wouldn’t expect from her. “It’s brand new.”
“Congratulations.” Hunter’s pressing a kiss to each of Raquel’s cheeks before he grins at me, flashing me a wink. “Nice work, man.”
I would laugh at how obvious he is, but my attention is already on Chase.
Thi
s is more complex for him than for the rest of them. I know that. I can see the look in his eyes. A little glint of something wet. I expected that. A kid—after what happened in his family…
But then he looks to Brooke.
I’ve always wanted kids. I’ve always known. Chase has always refused to talk about them. He’s great with kids—was—but then I was sure he’d be too traumatized to try.
But I see him look at Brooke, and I know what he’s thinking. He wants her to be the mother of his children. He’s known for a long time.
And then Chase looks back to me, and he starts to cry, just like I did in the truck.
I’m already standing before I’m aware of it. We grab each other and slam together in a hug, his hand pressing against the muscle of my back, holding us close.
“Congratulations, man.” His voice is raspy against my ear. “I’m so fucking happy for you.”
“I can’t believe it,” I say into him. “I’m pretty fucking terrified, too.”
“Hey.” Chase squeezes at my T-shirt, pulling me back so he can look in my eyes. “Hey.” He moves his hand to my bicep where he holds and squeezes, half as if he’s holding me up. His eyes fix on mine, intense and unblinking. “You’re gonna do great.” His eyes tick to Raquel, who’s being hugged by the girls again. “Both of you.”
“It’s a lot of responsibility.”
Chase grins. “Sometimes that’s what we’re ready for.”
Chase is my brother. He’s closer to me than my own flesh and blood. He’s not, historically, been a guy I thought I’d take much relationship advice from—because you don’t ask your most emotionally fucked-up friend how to handle your own emotional life.
But you know what?
He’s right.
I’ve never been more ready for an adventure than I am for this one.
* * *
Why.
That’s what Brooke is going to call it. It’s not got the budget of a major feature. It’s just us working for free: Hunter, Hanne, Chase and me. The core of the False Kings. Even our old camera guy, Aaron, comes to visit as a break from the younger crew he films with now.
All of us, just hanging out.
But this one isn’t about big mountains and bigger risks. It’s not about danger, or pushing the edge.
It’s about me carefully, slowly beginning to ride again. From the first time I strap back onto my board, through my earliest runs when I spend half of my time on my ass. It’s about the start of something new. Something slow. Something deliberate.
Because why is more than to have fun, or to stomp the biggest air, or to send it.
Why is because of the pleasure of being outside, of doing something physical. Of pushing yourself to new challenges.
Why is because of the joy of doing what you love.
Why is because I love sharing this beautiful, free, wild thing with the people I care about. With my crew. With my friends. With my wife. One day, with my kids.
Do I miss doing what I used to do? Yeah, of course. Anyone who says you can adjust to not being an athlete that easily is trying to feed you a steaming pile of bull.
But there are things we miss and we just know are done, and for me, that level of risk is one of them. Am I pumped for going up in a helicopter now and again? For carving some beautiful lines over virgin snow? Yeah. I’m never going to be an actuary or an accountant. Raquel has never asked me to wrap myself in cotton wool.
But I don’t feel okay with the idea of dying on a mountain anymore. I want to live on one. I want to enjoy life, to suck the juice out of it—and then I want to share that with other people. To encourage them to live their very best life and make the most out of every moment, because you never know how many moments you have left.
I want to teach my kids to reach, and try, and fly. I want them to learn that we shouldn’t only measure the worth of something by what it risks, because we must also ask what does it give? And I want my kids to learn that some things are worth the discomfort and the pain and, yes, the risks—because they change our lives for the better.
And ultimately I want my and Raquel’s kids to live long enough doing it that they also wake up one day and look at the person they love and think: now I’m ready for a new adventure.
The ring feels good on my finger when I turn it around. I don’t bother to suppress my smile.
This new adventure is so fucking good.
Raquel—The Beginning
Six weeks after we’ve started working together, we sneak out of the work party that doesn’t matter and walk together through the night.
We talk about everything and anything. We get waffles from a twenty-four-hour breakfast place. We head down to the sea, and we dip our toes in the water. Every time I look at JJ, I find him looking at me, too.
We’re bewitched with each other, and everything is glowing.
After we walk back along the waterfront to my car, and the length of our strides fit perfectly together. It’s natural to be under JJ’s arm. Every time his jacket slips over my shoulders he gently rearranges it again. Every time he breathes I can feel it, his ribs pressed against mine, a rhythm so familiar I feel like I’ve somehow always known it.
The sky is lightening with the dawn, and inside of me I have my own sunrise, glowing and golden.
When we get to my Prius we stop, and in stopping we turn toward each other, so that I look up at JJ and he looks down at me. His eyes drop to my lips, and in my chest my heart is too much, too alive, beating hard against my chest.
“Hey—do you feel it too?”
I smile awkwardly, one leg in my car and one out. “What?”
As of I don’t know exactly what he means. It. This thing that thuds in my heart, making its beat irregular. The fizzing under my skin. The effervescent, incandescent light at the center of me.
“I—” JJ stops himself and laughs, the sound big and warm, and then he flashes me that smile, the one with the dimples. The one I’m already falling for. “I can just tell you’re going to be a special person in my life.”
It’s a crazy thing to say. JJ knows it. I know it. In any other guy, it would be bullshit. In him...
He stands there on the sidewalk in the dawning light, and he looks at me, and above his grin his eyes are so earnest and open. Those dimples aren’t only for show. He means it, as he stands there holding the door pointlessly. He is telling the truth.
“Maybe,” I say.
“Let’s try it.” JJ’s smile is widening.
“This is crazy.”
His grin doesn’t falter. “You feel it too.”
I laugh, and he joins me, and everything I do just brings us closer together.
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
JJ smiles. “What if it does?”
I laugh again. It’s too much. I settle myself down on the driver’s seat and look at him steadily.
“The universe is giving you a sign, Raquel.” JJ knocks on the roof of my car, like the universe might, and we both smile harder at it.
“Say yes,” he murmurs, and the laughter drops away, leaving something serious. “Say yes to me.”
Oh, but it might hurt. It might go wrong. It might be bad all over.
My heart skips a beat, and into that tiny space fits all of it, the pain and the love and the wanting, our pleasure and our suffering, the whole beautiful story of us which we are still writing.
That one beatless truth, between the asking and the knowing:
“Yes.”
About the Author
Harper Dallas writes romantic fiction. Her favorite stories are about true love, strong women, and the men who can handle them.
After exploring the world, Harper met her own tall, blond, and handsome stranger right back at home. She is now living her own happy ever after in the wilderness of British Columbia. When she’s not writing love stories, you can probably find her in the mountains.
* * *
The third novel in the Wild sequence will be Trick.
/> Click here to join Harper’s mailing list for release updates, or find her online:
www.harperdallas.com
Acknowledgments
Whoever said the first time is the hardest never wrote a second novel. Without the support of my wonderful team and the love of my family and friends, Crash would never have happened. (Or have taken another two years.) From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone for the advice, encouragement, and most of all for continuing to love me when I had become more book stress than person.
I’m grateful to Natasha for the amazing cover, and Shannon S. for the last-minute proofreading.
When it came to the details of JJ’s recovery, Shannon B. provided invaluable professional feedback as a physiotherapist—and even more invaluable coffee-and-chat sessions as a friend. I am so grateful. Everything medically accurate in this novel is thanks to her; everything inaccurate is my stubborn doing.
Without Jane’s love and support, I would have fallen at just about every hurdle. We might not live in the same apartment anymore, but friendship trumps distance—every time. Thank you so much for your encouragement.
Once upon a time, a very good friend told me I should write a kissing book, already: he was right. It only took me ten years to listen to his advice. Thank you, Mr. Strange.
As ever, there aren’t sufficient words to describe what Rebecca has done for me, with this book as with all of my writing. I hope she knows anyhow—just as she always knows my stories better than I do.
My greatest thanks are for George, as they always are, for making sure that I am a human as well as a writer. His patience, support, and love are more than I could ever hope to deserve.
Finally, I am grateful for you—the person reading this now. Without you none of this would have happened.
Thank you.
Crash: The Wild Sequence, Book Two Page 34