“Personally, I’m still not convinced that reporter got it right,” she said, smiling. “I mean, since when do meteors sparkle all shiny silver? And where’s all their supposed evidence?” She made air quotes with her fingers. “We only have their word for it that it was a meteor.”
They laughed and leaned against one another as Monday returned with a large stick to chew on. Across the water somewhere, another owl answered the first one.
“I have to admit, I saw some crazy stuff on night runs in the choppers over there.”
“UFOs?”
He braced his swoon-worthy forearms across his bent knees. “I wouldn’t swear to it. But...”
“When I heard you were flying helicopters, I held out some hope you were flying mail runs or simple transport until I heard you were a rescue chopper pilot over there.”
“Impressed?”
“Very.”
“Don’t be. It was a job.”
She waited for a moment, hoping he’d explain why he’d quit, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it with her any more than he did with the people back at Grey’s.
She leaned on his shoulder. “I’m sorry we lost touch, Jake. And mostly, I’m so sorry I missed your parents’ service.”
It had been a wrenching, tragic accident. The drunken teenager who’d caused it was the son of some big wig in Livingston, had served less than one year and had already gotten off on probation.
Jake’s mom and dad had been like second parents to her. Their sudden loss was staggering, not just to him, but to the whole town of Marietta. They’d been such an essential part of the community, not just because everyone loved the diner and the car show, but because they’d been friends with virtually everyone in the town.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You must miss them terribly.”
He tossed a stone into the river and they watched it skip across the water. “I figured you would’ve been at the service if you could. It was him. Right?”
She lowered her head and sighed. Her ex, Kyle Hightower, had been the source of so much pain in her life.
“I had my letters returned to me, unopened,” he said. “And I don’t know if you know it, but he blocked me on your email, too.”
She jerked a look upward. She hadn’t known.
“Damn him. I’m so sorry. I thought... when I never heard back from you... I figured you just needed to move on.”
The look on his face made it clear that wasn’t the case. “Did he tell you I came to see you once?”
“What? When?”
“Before you married him. I had to see what you were getting yourself into. I stopped in Manhattan on a furlough but he made it perfectly clear my visit wasn’t welcome. And you didn’t want to see me.”
“Oh, my God.” She felt her stomach settle down to the hard rocks below. “That was a lie. I never knew you came.”
“I know. I tried my damndest to go around him, but he played keep-away with you until my weekend furlough was over and I had to leave. That’s when he cut me off by email, too.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. It was his way of possessing me, I think, though he thought of it as ‘protection’. I don’t think any of it was about love. After my...” She paused. “When I stopped riding, it got even worse. Anyway, I should have left him long before. But he was wealthy and powerful and he made it... difficult.” He’s still making it difficult.
He sat up straight. “Wait. You don’t ride anymore? What the hell, Olivia? Riding was like... freaking breathing to you.”
She forbade herself to think about the topic anymore. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, staring out over the water. “I teach now. And I train horses. In fact, I teach dressage. One of my students, Lucy Wheeler, is doing a demonstration at the fair later this week and I’ll... I’ll be narrating. I—” She was babbling now.
“Olivia, why aren’t you riding anymore?”
She swallowed hard. “That whole chapter of my life is closed.”
“Who the hell closed it?” Jake wanted to know. “Him?”
He was angry. And, frankly, so was she, but that didn’t change anything. She’d gone through the list. Anger, denial, bargaining... all for naught. She didn’t ride anymore and that was that.
“I closed it.” Simple. She stared down at the granite ledge twinkling in the moonlight. “We’ve both changed. You have and so have I.”
He watched her as if she was a puzzle he’d come back to put together. Her puzzle had several edge pieces missing. She suspected he’d misplaced a few of his own, as well.
“People don’t change that much. They don’t give up the thing that makes them want to get up in the morning without a reason.”
“You gave up the army.”
He blinked. She’d struck a nerve. “That’s different. And I’m still flying.”
She picked at something on the hem of her dress. “Why does it matter?”
“Because it does, dammit. Tell me.”
Olivia dipped her fingers into Monday’s coat beside her.
“All right. I’ll tell you, but then, I don’t want to discuss it. Understand?”
He nodded silently, even though she could tell he didn’t want to agree.
“There was an accident,” she said slowly. “A terrible accident. It was February. Cold, but no snow on the ground. My jumper, Kendy, and I were out riding. It was a beautiful day. I remember thinking that the sky was so blue for February in New York. We were just going easy. No jumps, just trails. And then, out of nowhere, I don’t know, a squirrel? A rat? Something spooked Kendy and she freaked out and took off like a—like a cannon.” As she spoke, she could almost feel the pounding of Kendy’s hooves against the ground that day, the rush of cold wind against her face.
“There was no stopping her. I was just trying to hang on at that point when she veered into the thicket of trees and down a hiking trail with low hanging branches. There were boys, three abreast, on the trail ahead of us. They had their backs to me. I screamed at them, but by the time they turned around, they were just... frozen with a look on their faces that I’ll never forget.
“To the left was a wall of rock and to the right, a lake, half-frozen, down a steep slope. I... managed to pull her right, but we...” She closed her eyes, remembering it, feeling the crash of branches against her ribs, the memory of the ground rushing up to meet her. “We fell down the slope, Kendy and I, her on top of me. She landed on the ice, but it broke apart. I don’t remember the rest, but she... she didn’t make it. I was airlifted out and spent a few weeks in a hospital. I was lucky. Those boys were lucky. But it was my fault.”
“Oh, Liv... how do you figure that?”
“I was on the US Team. A professional. She was my responsibility. I lost control of her. I’d gotten too... comfortable. Arrogant, maybe. And because of that, the best horse I ever had is gone. Those boys were almost killed. I almost died. So, yeah. That’s why I don’t ride anymore. I lost my nerve.”
He reached for her hand and took it in both of his. “That’s rough,” he said, his voice gentle. “But you can’t blame yourself when a thousand pound horse decides to—”
“No discussing.” She pulled her hand back and stared out over the water, shaken by the retelling, even two years later. “You promised.”
It took him a moment to rein in whatever he’d been about to say. “I promised for now,” he said, his brows hooding his eyes. “But I didn’t say anything about later.”
She sighed. Some things didn’t change. Jake could be maddening if he wanted to be. She needed to change the subject. “Enough about me. Tell me why you’re still single after all these years?”
He picked up another flat rock and skipped it across the water. It bounced to the middle of the moonlit river and disappeared. “I was no monk.”
“So,” she said, trying to lighten the mood, “tell me about your most inappropriate relationship.”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “No.”
/> “C’mon. You already know about mine.”
“No.”
She bit her lip. “Are you saying there were no inappropriate relationships?”
“I’m saying I’m not discussing them with you.”
His gaze landed on her mouth where it lingered for a moment before returning to her eyes. His nostrils flared slightly and she knew what he was thinking. He was thinking exactly what she was. Of its own accord, her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
Was it self-preservation that they both looked away at once? But just when she thought she’d dodged a bullet, back he came.
“You scared of me, Liv?”
“What? No.” She gave a laugh like scared was the last thing she could possibly be.
He sighed, then reached down to pull off a boot.
“What are you doing?” she inquired.
“Take off your clothes.”
Instinctively, she clamped her hands across her chest. “What?”
“C’mon. Not all your clothes. Just your dress. Your boots. Let’s go swimming.”
“Now?”
“We’ve done it a million times here.” Off came his other boot. “C’mon.”
Off came the black T-shirt over the holy-crikee ripped muscles of his torso. She inhaled at the sight of the new-to-her tats that covered one shoulder and forearm.
He followed her gaze and grinned. “Or are you scared of that, too?”
Oh, no. Not the tattoo. What was under the tattoo. She was definitely, definitely scared of the carnal thoughts his sleek, beautiful physique inspired.
The owl they’d been listening to flapped across the water with low, swooping beats of its huge wings, barely skimming the surface of the river.
“I-I’m still a little drunk and, obviously, I-I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“When did you get so prissy? Underwear always sufficed before. When naked wasn’t appropriate.” He grinned and loosened the button on the top of his jeans and she heard the toe-curling sound of his zipper sliding down.
“We only skinny dipped once when we were fourteen and it was pitch black.” She watched the smooth, thick muscles of his back bunch and move beneath his skin like quicksilver as he slid off his jeans. He was wearing boxer briefs which outlined his taut thighs and backside, a view that made her mouth go dry.
He gestured at the dark night with one hand. “C’mon. It’s hot. And since you’ve put the nix on discussing what’s got you so spooked, what’s a little swim between friends? We’ll never get this place to ourselves again.” Jake waded in a few steps then dove underwater.
Grown men and women cannot be friends. Her sister Kate had declared when Olivia had mentioned her onetime friendship with Jake as a perfect example of male-female friendship, Because in the sage words of Billy Crystal’s Harry to Meg Ryan’s Sally, ‘the sex part always gets in the way.’
A warm rush of longing shuddered through her as Jake shimmered under the surface of the water. Kate was right.
The sex part was a problem.
He shot straight up out of the water and gasped, the water sparkling in his hair.
Definitely a problem.
The cold water sang against Jake’s skin but seemed to have little effect on his reason for this little detour in the first place.
He ached.
He knew better than to imagine he’d ever stop wanting her. He’d spent the last twelve years aching for Olivia Canaday. Now, here she was, within reach, and he’d resorted to a cold dip rather than doing what he really wanted to do. Because he could sense her quippy little flirtations were really just a way to straight arm him into believing they could simply be best friends again. Not gonna happen. Because, maybe for the first time in their long history, he was free and so was she.
He turned back to her and found her standing on the rock, still fully clothed. “Olivia—”
Keeping her gaze on him, she pulled off her fancy turquoise cowboy boots, one at a time. And as each one hit the rock, something tightened down low in him.
She stirred her finger in the air. “Turn around.”
He tilted his head with a really look.
“If you want me to come in there...”
He obliged. Even over the sound of the water tripping over the nearby rocks, he imagined he could hear the dress come off and hear her step into the water. He imagined the shape of her. Her breasts, her long legs, the creamy skin on her shoulders.
When he heard her splash in the water, he turned to look. The sight of her hit him like a slap of heat despite the cold water. Every bit as beautiful as she’d been when they were kids, her womanly curves were leaner now, her long legs, toned from years on horseback. And, as she turned slightly in profile to wade into the water, he caught a glimpse of her breasts in that little push-up bra and imagined what they’d feel like in his hands.
Damn.
When she disappeared under the black water, he felt instantly bereft. Monday whined on the shoreline, too.
When she surfaced the cool water glistened on her eyelashes and she gave a little whoot! “It’s... it’s really not that bad!”
In Montana, ‘not that bad’ translated to ‘just shy of sheet ice’, which was true.
He swam toward her. The current was lazy and chilly against his skin, here, where geography had carved out a swimming hole in the river.
Olivia threw her head back and gazed up at the stars. Her hair floated around her like a dark cloud.
“You can’t see stars in New York City,” she said. “The sky is just a black hole, lit up by a million windows and streetlights from below.”
He floated beside her, watching the constellations overhead. “How long have you been back?”
“Six months. You?”
He glanced at his wristwatch. “Four hours and thirty-five minutes.”
She jerked upright. “You mean you just got here tonight?”
“Yup.”
“From where?”
Treading water, he studied the way the moonlight played on her skin. “Here and there. Based in Seattle, but I’m not there much.”
“What do you do now you’re out of the army?”
“Still flying helicopters for a living.”
“Of course you are.” Olivia smiled and floated into the outer current and he caught her, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her toward him.
“Don’t float away,” he murmured.
Olivia gasped when they met skin to skin. Despite the cold water, there was no disguising what he suddenly ached for.
She rested her hands on his biceps as they treaded water opposite each other. She gave his muscles a playful squeeze then traced a finger along his tattoos.
“Jake?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
She swallowed hard. “Tonight, before everything happened with Peter, I was thinking of you.”
“You were?” Encouraging. Her fingers, on his shoulders, felt cool and soft.
“Uh-huh. I was remembering the time you kissed me... at graduation?”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “As I recall, we nearly put an end to our best friend status, that day.”
“I always wanted to... apologize to you for that day.”
“Really? For what?” His palms slid down the sides of her ribcage, below her bra and he bracketed her slender waist between his hands above the silky panties she still wore. He fingers encountered a scar that curved around her side and he guessed it had been part of that riding accident.
“Because,” she went on, “I’m afraid I made you think I didn’t like that kiss. But I was just scared. I didn’t want it to come between us. You were my best friend, after all.”
Jake couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, remembering all the sleepless nights in Afghanistan, thinking about those lips. “Well, if it’s really bothering you, you could make it up to me right now.”
She blinked. “You mean... kiss you... here? No. That would be a bad idea.”
“Or”—he
drew little circles on her ribs with his thumbs—“you could just live with that wretched guilt the rest of your life. Knowing you broke a young boy’s heart.”
“I did not. You turned out just fine.”
“No,” he said, all the tease leaking out of his words. “Really.”
“Jake—”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t complicated back then. I’ll give you that. But getting over you wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
She blinked at him. Twice. “But... you did... get over me.”
He took the fifth on that one. “You gonna kiss me or not?”
“An apology kiss, right?”
“Right.”
She moved closer, resting her hands on his shoulders in tacit surrender. “Okay.” She approached with caution, her gaze on his grin.
He bridged the gap, brushing his mouth against hers. Softly. Testing.
He pulled away and he smiled.
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “That was nice.”
“No. That was just me trying to locate you in the dark.”
She chuckled. “I’m right he—”
His mouth was hot against hers before she could finish. It bore no resemblance to the last one. This kiss had nothing to do with best friends or even apologies.
A surprised sound escaped her before she relaxed, allowing him to pull her flush against his chest. She tasted good, so sweet, and she parted her lips to welcome his tongue against the hungry slide of hers.
He deepened the kiss, holding her face between his hands and pushing his fingers into her wet hair. It was a long-time-coming sort of kiss, the kind that, in imagining, had kept him awake long into the night in the middle of the desert. Her lips were as soft as he remembered. And her kiss held all the promise that teenaged one had contained. What had been an ember in his gut earlier, now exploded into a full-fledged fire that burned through him, hot and heavy straight down to his groin. He slanted his mouth against hers first one way, then the other, and he nearly lost control right there, but then they dipped underwater for a few seconds, locked together in the embrace. They rolled, then he kicked them to the surface and swung her above him. She lifted her head and broke the kiss, gasping for air.
A Cowboy to Remember Page 3