by Lisa Plumley
Confused, Jayne gripped the rock wall in front of her. She closed her eyes, then tried for help the only way she could think of. She opened her eyes again, fixed her gaze on a distant star, and began.
“Okay, I’ll still need the courage to hike and camp and help my breakup-ees. But if it’s not too much trouble—” She stared even more hopefully at her chosen star. “—could I please have a gigantic dose of fortitude, too, to resist Riley with? Otherwise, I’m in big trouble, here.”
Chapter Eight
On the morning Uncle Riley was due to take Jayne and her Heartbreak 101 group on their adventure travel trip, Alexis awakened at dawn with a new sense of purpose…and a gigantic zit.
She stared disconsolately at her face in the mirror, dabbing on Clearasil. It looked like she had a boil on her forehead. A huge glow-in-the-dark I’m-a-geek sign right between her eyes. Averting her gaze from The Thing, she got up and got ready for her day, her mind spinning with thoughts of all she’d witnessed on the back patio last night.
Uncle Riley and Jayne. They’d dated. Had a fling. Something. They were (as Nana sometimes said) “an item.”
Alexis was sure of it. Last night, she’d been simultaneously reading Jane magazine, applying Urban Decay Rebel orange sparkly polish to her nails, listening to Destiny’s Child, and wishing her cell phone worked, when she’d been startled by the sound of feet stomping onto the back deck. And then by the sounds of conversation between Uncle Riley and Jayne.
One (perfectly innocent) look out her window had told Alexis there was more going on with her uncle and the author than the two had let on.
Like lip-locks. Public displays of affection. And an interesting, Britney-and-Justin “true love” thing that had almost made Alexis sigh with suppressed, like, romanticism. She’d been able to tell, right away, that Uncle Riley and Jayne used to be together, wanted to be together…totally belonged together now.
All they needed, she figured, was someone to help them. Someone close to the situation. Someone smart. Someone with nothing else to do, all spring break long. Someone like her.
Grabbing a sweatshirt, Alexis left her room. Now more than ever, she had to go on that heartbreak cure trip.
On the morning they were due to depart, Jayne was getting ready to leave (at an obscenely early, pre-“Today” show hour) when Doris abandoned her packing duties in mid-Gortex and edged closer.
“I think Riley still has the hots for you,” she said.
Before Jayne could reply, Donna spoke up. “Nonsense. Anyone can see it’s Jayne who still has the hots for Riley.”
Carla, Kelly, and Mitzi gasped. Five sets of eyes swerved to Jayne, pinning her with curious gazes. All before she’d had a chance to so much as assume a nonchalant demeanor. Wake up with Matt Lauer. Or sip a nonfat triple latte extra-whip eye opener—which she desperately needed. Facing the wilderness while decaffeinated was just cruel.
“Is that true?” they asked.
“We’ve been, like, defending your honor,” Carla said, “since the first time we met Riley—”
“Right after finding out what he did to you,” Mitzi added.
“—but if there’s still something going on between you two…?”
Jayne forced a laugh. “Something going on? Between me and Riley? Whatever would make you think that?”
“The smoldering, be-my-love-slave looks he’s been giving you all morning,” Doris said.
“The electric current sizzling between you!” Donna added.
“The fact that you, like, disappeared with him last night.” Carla crossed her arms. “Instead of playing Twister.”
“The sexy underwear you brought—” Mitzi eyeballed the baby blue silk thong Jayne had unpacked. “—to go camping in.”
“Ummm,” Kelly said, deliberately looking away from the thong. “The panicky look on your face when we brought it up?”
Geez. The quiet ones were always the most perceptive.
All right, she’d just have to deal with this. After stuffing yet another foil envelope of questionable dried food into her pack, Jayne faced them. She put her hands on her hips.
“Okay. In order. Doris, Riley doesn’t want me to be his ‘love slave.’ If he did, he’d just say so. He’s a man of action, not smoldering looks.”
They glanced behind her at Riley, their brows arched. “He looks pretty smoldering to me,” Doris muttered.
Jayne ignored her. “Donna, any electric current around here is just my travel blow dryer, which I’m not allowed to bring with me.” She shot an accusing look at the man responsible for denying her request to bring along the very sensible battery-powered styling aid she’d purchased. “And Carla, I didn’t ‘disappear’ with Riley last night. I merely went outside with him to iron out some details about our trip.”
Such as his imminent defeat when he discovers exactly how effective my anti-heartbreak techniques really are.
“Mitzi, I brought this underwear when my publicist told me I was going to an exclusive lodge in Arizona. Before I found out I was really going to anti-fashion boot camp—” Jayne raised her voice on this last, sending another look toward Riley. He’d insisted she wear the uncoordinated, unstylish, un-cute outdoors wear everyone else would have on. “—and not a spa!”
Her breakup-ees murmured sympathetically.
But Jayne wasn’t finished. She couldn’t be finished. Not yet. “And Kelly…the only reason I might have looked panicky at discussing all this is because it means so much to me that you all know I’m over Riley Davis!”
At her loud declaration, the man of the moment looked up from across the room. He stuck a finger in his ear and waggled it, pretending her outburst had damaged his hearing. Then he grinned, deliberately provoking her.
“After all,” Jayne went on, presenting him with her back, “how can I help any of you, if I can’t even help myself? If I weren’t over Riley Davis, I would be a complete fraud.”
“You have a point,” Donna and Doris muttered.
The other three women nodded. “You’re right. We’re sorry. We’ll try not to doubt you again.”
Jayne didn’t plan to give them a reason to doubt her. And after she said as much, they shared a group hug. Her breakup-ees vowed to give Riley the cold shoulder if he made any trouble for Jayne—an offer whose loyalty-driven motivation she appreciated, even as she made them promise to be nice to their guide. Then Jayne got busy with her final packing…keeping her back deliberately turned toward Riley every minute.
Not that it mattered. She’d have sworn he was ogling her butt the whole damned time.
Having assembled everyone, Riley stood with them at the trailhead shortly after sunrise. Already, the morning had been difficult (with the exception of the time he’d spent ogling Jayne’s wonderfully-shaped backside, of course). He’d just barely averted a riot when he’d announced they wouldn’t have time to watch Matt Lauer (“that cutie!” according to the women) and Katie Couric before leaving. He’d also been forced to negotiate a tense oatmeal-or-eggs standoff over breakfast, with a confused Gwen standing by waiting to prepare the food. They’d finally compromised on muffins and fruit, with yogurt on the side. Just as he’d suspected, this would be an adventure travel trip like none other.
Because of the chilly springtime morning, Riley had dressed in layers—tan utility pants, Timberlands, a white T-shirt, and a lightweight moss-colored zipped Polarfleece—and had recommended Jayne and her guidance groupies do the same. Fully-outfitted in his pack, he surveyed the group.
Groups, really. They’d split into three chattering sets, each containing two women plus at least one guide: Bruce and his young cousin Lance with Mitzi and Carla, Mack with Doris and Donna, Riley with Jayne and Kelly. Keeping the groups small would lessen the impact on the wilderness area they’d be traveling through, and would allow everyone to hike at an individual pace without feeling left behind. They’d meet at designated spots for meals, trailside workshops, and to set up camp each night.
All of the
women carried the appropriate gear—packs loaded with food, clothing, tents and tent poles, water, first aid supplies, compasses, maps, and more. Each was dressed in layered outdoors wear. Jayne, Riley noticed, had altered hers.
Somehow—probably by swapping with the other women—she’d managed to put together an actual ensemble. And despite the clothing requirements he’d laid out, she still wore baby blue. Her wind pants were that shade; so were her hiking socks and the tank top beneath her light-colored V-neck fleece. Diamond studs sparkled at her ears. They were just visible when the breeze blew back her carefully-styled blonde hair.
He smiled. He should have known Jayne would find a way to add glamour to utilitarian hiking clothes.
She caught him watching, and raised her hand. “Do we have time for coffee before we head out? I know of a place in Sedona that makes a great mocha with chocolate shavings on top.”
“Oooh, good idea,” one of the women said.
“Yum.” Bruce smiled, subversive as usual.
“Sounds awesome,” Mack said, typically cheerful.
“No way,” Mitzi objected. “A mocha is at least three or four Weight Watchers points.”
“It’s not Zone perfect, either,” Carla added.
Riley seized on the only opening he had. “I’m embarrassed to put it this way, but…hiking burns lots of calories. After we hit the trail and your fat cells start begging for mercy, you’ll be glad you skipped the mochas.”
Blank faces stared back at him. He began to think he’d agreed to guide the only women in the universe who were immune to fat cell phobia.
Then… “Yay! Let’s go!”
Fists pumping in the air, the women charged the trail. Their guides hurried to keep up. Whew. First crisis averted.
Soon, the rocky high desert landscape glowed with the rising sun. Prickly pear, yucca, and agave pierced the spaces between boulders, and creosote bushes offered spots of color with their yellow blooms. At the travelers’ approach, the occasional bird took flight. Dust rose beneath their footfalls, its dry scent mingling with that of the cool air.
A half-mile in, the three groups found their unique paces. Bruce and Lance took the lead with Mitzi and Carla. Riley remained in the middle with Jayne and Kelly. Mack, listening good-naturedly to the diverse opinions of Doris and Donna, brought up the rear with the sisters assigned to him. The trail turned rocky, beginning a gentle ascent.
“We’ll actually be climbing up into Catsclaw Canyon,” Riley explained as Jayne and Kelly examined the upward-winding trail with identical frowns. “Picture us at the tail end of a gigantic crack in the earth’s surface. It will get deeper as we go in, and we’ll climb higher. We’re at a lower elevation here in the desert, but by the time we reach the other lodge inside the canyon—our turning point—we’ll be at about fifty-five hundred feet above sea level. Flagstaff, above the rim and about an hour north of us, is at 7,000 feet.”
Kelly stopped. “Where are we right now?”
“About four thousand feet.”
Jayne stopped. “We have to climb fifteen hundred feet? That’s like…I dunno, a gazillion steps on the StairMaster.”
Riley nodded, and kept going. “It’s a gradual incline. You can do it.”
He glanced backward. They stood there, gawping at him. Then Jayne nudged Kelly. The two women followed him.
“Sure, we can do it,” Jayne called. “Of course we can do it. But do we want to?”
“With you?” Kelly added.
At the surprisingly belligerent tone in her voice, Riley stopped. Kelly was usually so calm. Almost meek. Hell, she hadn’t even entered into the breakfast fracas until an aggravated Bud had suggested skipping the meal altogether.
“Is something bothering you, Kelly?” he asked. “About me?”
The woman averted her eyes. She toed the trail, refusing to look at him. “Umm, sort of.”
Silently, he waited.
“But we don’t have to talk about it right now. Maybe not ever, of you don’t want to. Or….”
He waited some more. Patiently.
As Riley had expected, she cracked. “Okay! Stop hounding me!” Kelly waved her arms and unbalanced herself. She’d have tipped over if Jayne hadn’t helped her. “It’s just that…you shouldn’t have treated Jayne the way you did. Not—not that I know the whole story, or hold you completely responsible, of course, but Jayne is a nice person, and she doesn’t deserve…what you did. And that’s all.”
She shrank into herself, her chin burrowing into the collar of her fleece. She clutched her pack straps. Peeked at him from beneath her dark bangs. “Okay?”
Riley, wondering exactly what he’d done, cast a questioning glance at Jayne. She shrugged, biting her lip. Hell. Maybe he’d done “nothing” again without realizing it. With no further information to go on, he was forced to improvise.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He waited until Kelly raised her head to look at him, then continued. “Thank you for telling me. Most people wouldn’t have dared.”
A small smile edged onto her mouth.
“You’re uncommonly brave, Kelly. I’m glad to have you as part of my group.”
Riley meant it. He could tell that criticizing him—however obliquely and confusingly—had been difficult for her. Later, he’d pin down Jayne and extract the explanation he knew must exist for Kelly’s low opinion of him.
Considering how best to coax Jayne into revealing that explanation, he glanced at her. She was already watching him, something close to gratitude in her face. So…she approved of the way he’d talked with Kelly? Interesting. She hadn’t seen the half of it yet.
“I’m—I’m glad to be part of your group,” Kelly said, blushing. “Thanks, Riley. You’re really understanding.”
Now, Jayne seemed almost disgruntled. She kicked at a clod of dirt with her all-terrain shoes and crossed her arms, the very picture of a woman enduring a minor betrayal.
“No, thank you.” He smiled at Kelly, for the first time really seeing the complicated and caring woman beneath her hunched shoulders, lowered glances, and hesitant speech. “Tell you what. How about if you lead this section?”
Kelly gasped. “Do you really think I can?”
“Sure. You nailed the compass-and-topo navigation training. And the trail’s clearly marked. Have at it.”
She shared an excited glance with Jayne. “Okay! Just try and keep up!”
Then she was off, briskly trotting up the trail again…leaving Riley to follow behind with Jayne. Just the two of them. Alone, but for the fifty yards separating them from Kelly. Exactly as he’d planned.
He grinned, already anticipating the process of unraveling Jayne’s self-help-style resistance to him. Surely it was paltry. Not up to the challenge about to present itself—the challenge of him. After all, he’d never believed those hocus-pocus techniques of hers really worked in the first place.
“You planned that!” Jayne accused, watching Kelly happily blaze a trail in front of them, her pack bobbing up and down with her movements. “I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it. When I want something, I go after it.”
“Right. And what do you want now? Kelly, with a sprained ankle?”
I want you, he thought. But all he said was, “Kelly will be fine. She may even be more fit than you are.”
He swept a contemplative glance over Jayne’s body as she navigated the trail. She caught him at it, and took the bait.
“She is not! And quit looking at me to compare.”
“You want me to look at Kelly instead?”
Jayne’s mouth thinned. “Do whatever you want,” she said stubbornly. Her gaze moved again to Kelly, and she frowned.
“I can’t do that while in motion. Standing up, sure. Leaning against a boulder, okay.” He pretended to consider it further. “But moving down a trail—”
“What are you blathering about?”
“Doing whatever I want.” Boy, she was easy to tease.
She yawned, obviously feig
ning boredom. “Which would be?”
“Finding out if you still sigh in that breathy, sexy way when a man undresses you. When I undress you. Finding out if your skin still smells like peaches and vanilla. Finding out if you still taste like—”
“What is the matter with you?” Jayne grabbed his arm, giving him a perplexed look. “Last night, you were Mr. Platonic Kiss On The Forehead. Today, you’re Sex-You-Up Sam. Which is it?”
“Riley.” He pointed to himself, smiling. “Not Sam. Maybe you need a refresher on the man you’re with?”
“I’m not ‘with’ you. I’m hiking alongside you.” She set into motion again, moving with purpose.
He followed. “You’ll be ‘with’ me. Wait and see.”
“Ha.”
“Ha?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Ha, ha!”
There she went again, with the skepticism. It was enough to make a man want to remind her—demonstratively—of all the ways they’d once been compatible. In bed. On the beach. In the shower. At the movies.
Yes, the movies. Hell, a guy couldn’t spend all his time making love to the woman he’d fallen in…into a relationship with. Could he?
Riley jogged forward, leaping across some flat boulders to catch up with Jayne. “I’m not afraid to admit what I want. You might try it sometime.”
“Ha!”
“I still want you, Jayne.”
Her chin quivered.
“You want me, too.”
Instead of replying, she breathed deeply and then began counting in a low voice. She stared at her feet, as though mesmerized by their movement.
He couldn’t help but feel hurt by her obvious inattention.
“What are you doing?” Riley asked quietly.
“Moving meditation. It will help me resist you. I mean, refocus my energies.”
He considered that. “Don’t resist me, Jayne. We were good together once. We can be that way again.”
As he said it, Riley realized exactly how much he wanted that. A second chance with Jayne. Sure, after the way she’d challenged him, that second chance might come in the form of a short-lived fling. But that would be enough for him. Enough to get Jayne out of his system once and for all. He’d keep it physical, keep it brief…and enjoy the hell out of it. So, he felt certain, would she.