by Jill Shalvis
“Come in,” he called, and splashed her.
It didn’t take much to convince her.
Or Rose.
Jared climbed out of the water, leaving the two happy couples engaged in a water fight. Standing on the shore, his back to Lily, he shook the water from his head like a shaggy dog, then pulled off his shirt.
Lily stared at the sleek muscles in his back and was nearly overcome by the urge to put her hands on him. And not just to jump his long, lean, wet bones either, although there was a good amount of that urge, as well, but also something far deeper.
She just wanted to be close, as close as possible: talking, laughing, hiking, naked or clothed…
It pissed her off.
Stalking over to him, she stood at his side and put her hands on her hips, staring into the water where the others were still playing with wild abandon. “I’d like to know what you meant by throwing that L-word around.”
He turned his head and looked at her, and damn if behind the hurt and frustration, he wasn’t laughing at her. “L-word?”
“Yes.”
“There are a lot of L-words out there,” he said. “Maybe you should be a little bit more specific.”
“You know exactly which L-word I’m talking about.”
Arching an eyebrow, he looked down at her with that smile on his lips, the one that wasn’t quite real because it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Love,” she reminded him. “You said you love me.”
“And this thrilled the hell out of you.”
“Love doesn’t fit into my life, and you know it.” She felt thrown, seriously thrown. Why hadn’t he gotten pissed off and run screaming from her? Why was he still standing here talking to her, looking at her in a way that made breathing all but a forgotten art?
“Why not?” he asked very quietly. “Why don’t you, for once and all, come right out and tell me why love doesn’t fit into your life.”
“Well, because…” He was looking at her patiently, waiting for logic, when she had absolutely none. “Crap,” she said brilliantly, and crossed her arms over her chest.
He just looked at her, his disappointment palpable. “It’s okay,” he finally said. “I understand.”
And he dove back into the water, nothing but a ripple in the water as he vanished beneath the surface.
But she had a feeling that going back to civilization in just a few more hours, that seeing him off to his world and her to hers would leave a far bigger ripple on her surface, for a good long time.
“Damn it,” she whispered again, but there was no one to hear. She packed up and began to put out the fire, but Michelle got stung by a bee, which freaked her out, and Rock said he’d handle the fire while Lily doctored her wound.
So Lily had her back to the pit, head bent over Michelle’s stung leg, when Rose screamed. She whipped around in time to see the fire flare up hot and fast, and Rock fall backwards to his butt in the dirt.
And everything within Lily began to relive her nightmares. “That wasn’t water,” Rose cried to Rock. “It was the leftover whiskey!”
Lily began running toward the fire, but Rock reached for the second water jug, and tossed that on the flames.
And they burst into a roar and raced toward the sky.
“That was more whiskey!” Rose screamed, and covered her ears, as if standing there on the edge of a now out-of-control campfire with her hands over her ears was somehow going to produce a miracle and shut the fire down.
Lily skidded to a halt, transported back in time to waking up surrounded by flames licking at her legs, her arms, and, in a mindless panic, backing herself right off the edge of a cliff.
She’d made a mistake then, a bad one…and remembering it, she blinked, forced her mind on the here and now as she rushed forward to push Rose back. In her peripheral vision she could see Jared running towards her, but she didn’t need saving, not this time. “Stay back,” she yelled to Rock, who’d come up to his knees. Grabbing her folding shovel out of her pack, she began tossing dirt onto the fire, working hard and fast on the stubborn flames until they reluctantly subsided.
At her sides now were Jared and Rock, doing what they could to kick more dirt into the pit, none of them giving up until the flames had been controlled and subdued.
“My God,” Michelle finally said as they sagged back, dirty and sweaty. “That could have gone all bad.” She looked at Lily with admiration. “Man, you’re good.”
Lily swiped her drenched forehead and let out a laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Rock said, sounding shaken. “God, I nearly started a forest fire.”
“Accidents happen,” Jared said, and looked at Lily.
Yeah. Yeah, they did. And people either learned and grew, or they didn’t.
She’d like to think she’d done the learning-and-growing thing. “It’s okay,” she said, knowing it was true. They were okay, she was okay. She smiled at Jared, wondering if he could see it all over her face.
But though he smiled back, it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and whatever he read in her face, he turned away.
Yeah, maybe she hadn’t made a mistake with the fire this time, but there were still some areas in which her mistakes hadn’t quite been rectified.
“Do you miss firefighting?” Rose asked.
“I did.” She glanced at Jared’s back. “But now? I’m good doing this.”
Jared walked away, and her heart fell to her toes. “Really good,” she whispered, but he didn’t stop.
He just kept going.
THE END of their trip was shockingly anticlimatic. Back at the trailhead, Lily called Keith to check in.
“Hey, Lil.” He sounded warm as ever, and happy to hear from her. “So…did you find what you were looking for out there?”
She looked at Jack and Michelle, driving off into the peach-and-gold sunset, happy in their rediscovered passion, secure in the knowledge that they were together for the right reasons—and unable to take their hands off each other. With or without daddy’s money, it didn’t matter; they were going to make it. “I’m thinking I got closer,” she said.
“I’m glad,” Keith said, sounding as though he really meant it. “Want me to book you on some more trips? You up for it?”
She’d been so unsure that she could do this. Her faith in everything had been shaken to the core, but in the end, she’d conquered her own fears, she’d done something right. She’d found her strength. “Yes,” she said. “Book me.”
ROSE DIDN’T dawdle much. She spent a moment putting her gear in order, then blew a kiss to Rock. She’d figured he’d get into his car and drive off into the sunset.
That’s what she wanted him to do, so there wouldn’t be any lengthy good-bye.
She hated good-byes. It was why she never made them.
But he didn’t get into his car, he stepped close and stopped her from getting into the taxi she’d paid to have waiting for her.
“Wait,” he murmured. “Hold up a second.”
Pretending that was just fine, Rose smiled up at him. “One more kiss, sugar? Is that what you’re needing?”
“Truthfully?” Rock rubbed his jaw, his four-day-old growth rasping in the silence. “I’d like more than a kiss.”
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Name it.”
“I’d like a date.”
“A date,” she repeated slowly, the concept utterly alien. She didn’t date men. She inhaled them, then spat them back out and moved on.
He just smiled. “You. Me. A restaurant, dancing, candles, wine, the whole shebang. What do you say?”
“I’d say you don’t have to go to that much trouble, cowboy. You’ve already had me.”
Rock shook his head. “I’m not trying to get laid, Rose.”
“Well, that’s a shame.”
He looked a little exasperated. “I’m trying to get…more.”
Rose blinked. “More. From me.”
Rock lifted her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth. “That’s r
ight.”
“I’m twelve years older than you,” she reminded him.
“That’s my favorite part.”
She eyed him for a long moment, not quite sure why hope suddenly bubbled in her throat, cutting off her air supply. “I offered you a deal no man could refuse. A string-free affair. You’re a fool to want more.”
“Then call me a fool. Say yes, Rose.”
She looked him over good. She saw sincerity and something else, something new…affection. Oh, God, she liked the look of that.
He was waiting patiently, and she found herself lifting a casual shoulder even though she felt anything but casual. “Okay, what the hell.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it’s a yes. It’s a hell, yes,” she said with a baffled laugh. “I’ll go on a fancy date with you.” She shook her head. “We’re crazy, you know that?”
“Certifiably nuts, the both of us,” Rock agreed, and pulled her close.
AND THEN it was just Lily.
Oh, and Jared.
Only he wasn’t smiling, but looking at her. Through her.
Into her.
“Good-bye,” she said, her heart snagging on the words. “I know you probably won’t believe this, but I’ll never forget you.”
“Lily—”
“Please don’t drag this out,” she whispered, suddenly unable to talk past the lump the size of a river rock stuck in her throat. “We knew each other for four days. The end.”
“Do you believe in chance, Lily?”
“Jared—”
“Do you?”
“Yes. Damn it, you know I do.”
“I came here on a chance, because of a list.” He pulled the folded paper out of his pocket to remind her. “Things happen, Lily. We happened.”
“I didn’t plan on this.”
“And a year ago I thought my life was all planned out, too. Go with the flow, Lily.”
“Jared…”
“Look, life isn’t set, Lily. And you know what? I’m thinking that it isn’t supposed to be. There’s no topo map, and I’m starting to see that’s the amazement of the whole thing. Nothing’s set. You adjust for the things that come up: jobs, adventures. Cancer.” He stepped closer. “Love.”
Oh, God.
He laughed softly, utterly without mirth, and unfolded his list. “But none of that matters when it’s not meant to be.” Reaching into his car, he grabbed a pen, then crossed off One, take a guided trek in the mountains. “There.” He slipped the paper back into his pocket. Looking at her again, he touched her jaw. “Thanks for an unforgettable four days, Lily. I won’t forget you, either.”
And then he got into his car, and without a backwards glance, drove off into the sunset.
She stared at the dust that rose from his tires. She’d gotten what she wanted.
So why didn’t it seem like it?
JARED WENT BACK to work, with some qualms. Once work had been how he defined himself, but he refused to let it come to that ever again. Work was work, not his life.
Knowing that, he was careful to jump back in slowly, forcing himself to leave the office by five o’clock so that he could still have a social life. That his social life consisted mostly of his family was something Candace bitched about, but he held firm. But then, after three weeks, he gave into his assistant’s nagging and went on a blind date.
The woman was lovely and smart and attractive, but not Lily, and he figured it out—he wasn’t ready. Instead he decided to knock something else off his list—a sail through the Greek Islands. He was leaving the following week, and had a shitload of work to do before then.
Candace poked her head into his office. “Hey. Someone’s here to see you.”
He pushed up his glasses and looked at his schedule. No meetings. “Who?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Don’t know, but I’m leaving for lunch.”
He took a glance at the clock on his office wall. “It’s ten o’clock.”
“Yeah, but my stomach says it’s Micky D time. What’s your order? Oh, wait, you’re giving up Micky D to eat more fish.” She grinned. “Sorry, boss. Be back in an hour.”
“An hour?” But she was already gone, and he was talking to himself. He had no idea who was waiting to see him, maybe his mother, or any one of his sisters, all of whom had taken to stopping by at least weekly just to look at him.
It’d been comforting. At first. But ever since he’d gotten back from the Sierras, a truly life-altering event, when they’d taken one look at him and known something had happened to him, it was no longer comforting at all. They wanted to know what was wrong, what had happened to him out there, and he hadn’t been able to talk about it yet, to tell them the truth.
Once, his body had failed him, but he’d managed a comeback. His heart had been left untouched.
Not this time. Now he was trying to heal that in the same manner he had his body, with sheer will.
So why did he still feel as if he was holding on by a damn string?
Three weeks…
Get over it, Skye, it’s past time to get over it. He stood up, but before he could walk around his desk, another head poked in his office. Not Candace, coming back to bug him about a lunch order. Not his mother, or any of his four sisters.
Lily.
She smiled a little shakily, clearly unsure of her welcome. “Hi.”
Flummoxed, he just stood there.
“Um, is it a bad time?”
Well that depended on whether she minded watching him try like hell to find his tongue. She wore a gauzy sundress that showed off her tanned shoulders and toned arms. It hugged her breasts, flared out at her hips, and revealed the legs he’d loved having wrapped around him more than anything else in the world.
“I probably should have called.” Biting her lower lip, she came all the way into his office. “But I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”
Was she kidding? He couldn’t tear his eyes off her. Hell, yeah, he wanted to see her. He wanted never to stop seeing her.
She shot him a smile that he realized with a shock was filled with nerves. She clasped her hands. “I missed you.”
Yeah, probably he should have his hearing checked. Because it sounded like she’d said she missed him…
“I know that sounds ridiculous, given how it all ended so badly, but…” Spreading her hands out, she stared down at them, then lifted her head, her eyes glittering with emotion, fierce, stark emotion. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jared. About the odds you’ve overcome, how you had to go through such trauma just to get the kick in the ass you needed to really live your life. See, I want to live my life, too. Without shielding myself or my heart.” She nodded, determined. “I’m not going to do that anymore.”
For the first time in three weeks, the fist that had gripped Jared’s heart loosened enough for him to breathe, really breathe.
“So maybe,” she said. “You’d like to spend some time with me? We could start small, like a date…If you’re free. Maybe this weekend…or next if you’re busy.”
He was free. So damn free.
“I really wish you’d say something,” she whispered, clasping her fingers together. “Anything.”
“Sorry.” He found his legs and came around his desk as a fierce exhilaration and overwhelming joy flowed through his veins. “It’s just that I can’t go out with you next week, I’m leaving for a sail through the Greek Islands.”
“Oh,” she said in a very small voice.
“But seeing as I missed you, too, so goddamned much, maybe you could stand to take the trip with me?”
She let out a choked laugh that was part sob, and covered her mouth with a shaking hand.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you either,” he said, finally able to get it together to talk. “Not for one single second of a single minute since I drove off that mountain without you.” He came to a stop right before her and took her hands. “Now you.”
“I can barely breathe, much less speak.”
She entwined their fingers. “I should tell you right here and now, before I kiss you and forget everything else including my name, that I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”
“Me stuff?”
“Yeah, you stuff.” She swallowed hard. “The seeing-you stuff. Seeing you a lot.” She smiled, and stole his heart all over again. “Look, we both know I’ve always walked away. It’s what I do.”
He shook his head. “I had no right to judge you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m tired of starting over, Jared. I don’t want a good-bye this time, or an ending. I want…us. You said you loved me,” she said. “I thought it was too much too soon, but someone once told me these things can happen in a second.” Her eyes filled. “A year. There’s no set time.” She smiled shakily. “It took me four days and three weeks, but I love you back, Jared.”
It was possible his heart was stuck in his throat, because when he opened his mouth nothing came out of it.
“Oh, God, we’re back to that you-not-talking thing again.” She drew a trembly breath. “Okay. It’s all right if you’re not ready to do this. I got that.”
“No. Yes,” he corrected when she whirled for the door. He caught her, barely, and turned her back to face him. “I’m ready for this, so ready.” He shook his head, trying to absorb it all. “It’s just that you showed up here, my single favorite walking/talking fantasy, and smiled at me, and from that second on, I lost my train of thought.”
She stared at him, and he had to let out a laugh. “Maybe…maybe you could say it again,” he said. “Maybe then it’d sink in.”
“Which part?”
“The L-word part.”
She stared at him, then laughed as a tear escaped. “That must have really thrown you, huh?” She slid her arms up around his neck and pressed close. “I meant it, Jared. I don’t know the how or the why of it, you with your gadgets and toys, and me with my wanderlust ways, but I love you.”
Tossing his glasses to his desk, he hauled her close. Lifting her up, he spun around. “I am never going to get tired of hearing that.” Setting her down, he cupped her face. “Say it again.”
She laughed, and it sounded far more free this time. “I love you, Jared Skye.”