by Fiona Lowe
Jenna agreed to second date but said, “Surprise me.” How?
Bloody hell, McBain, he thought as he texted back:
It’s summer. Take her to a market, buy fresh produce and a bottle of wine. Have a picnic. Pack bug spray.
As he pressed send, his phone made the sound of a train—the tone he’d assigned to his mother—and a photo appeared of his father windsurfing. The accompanying text said:
Dad with his birthday present. Saw a guy wave boarding and thought of you. We miss you and hope you’re happy. Do you have something planned for the anniversary? I’m worried you’ll be on your own. Mum Xx
The anniversary. The day everything had changed for his parents. The day everything had changed for him and for his sister. The day normal had become a foreign state that was heavily fortified with border protections he could never breach.
Hey, dickhead. Charlie’s voice crashed into his head. You gonna sit here all day or race me on that new road bike of yours? You know I’ll win.
Will threw his phone onto the bed, jumped to his feet, found his key fob and headed out to the parking lot to unpack and assemble his bike.
MILLIE started the day by having a leisurely breakfast with her parents, and then, as it was gloriously sunny, she’d walked to the library. Her plan was to spend the rest of the day lazing by the pool and reading. The inground pool was her father’s pride and joy, and he tended to it lovingly—tinkering with the pump, testing the PH and juggling the combination of salt and acid to get it just right. The crystal clear water sparkled invitingly, but icy experience had taught her that it took another couple of weeks before she considered it warm enough for swimming.
Unable to choose between two novels, she checked out both, and sliding her sunglasses back on her face, she stepped out into the warmth of the day. Thankfully, Dex hadn’t made a peep since breakfast, which made her happy, because as important as exercising was, it sometimes played merry hell with her numbers. So many random things she couldn’t control, along with the time of the month, could screw her numbers big-time.
A black Jeep with a bike rack on the back and a Canadian canoe on the roof pulled up next to her, and a tinted window wound slowly down. Will’s face appeared, his eyes filled with momentary surprise before his mouth curved into an easy, and friendly, smile.
Will, the heartthrob who wanted to be her buddy.
A shimmer spun through her, setting up a throb at the apex of her thighs. What is it that you don’t understand about the word friend? she rebuked her recalcitrant body.
“G’day, Millie.”
“Ah, hey, ah, hi, Will,” she said, feeling her cheeks burn. She had to get better at trying to be casual with him. “You look . . .”—good enough to eat—“. . . like you’re ready for an active weekend.”
He laughed. “I’ve already done a thirty-mile bike ride.”
“But it’s only ten thirty,” she said faintly, double-checking her watch.
The left side of his mouth tweaked up wryly. “I got a jump start on the day courtesy of the preschool brigade at the motel. I’ve also followed the trail of yellow and purple bear paw prints painted along the footpath and walked the town tour.”
“There’s a town tour?”
“Sure is. It takes you past the schools and churches, out to the hospital and over to the park for the view across the Medicine River ravine. There’s even a pop quiz at the end.” His eyes danced. “I aced it, and Lorelei at the visitors’ center gave me a lollipop.” He held up a candy on a stick before opening the car door. “Hop in.”
“My mother warned me about men with sweets,” she teased as her head seemed to toss of its own accord. A curl landed in her mouth, sticking to her lips.
What are you doing? You can’t flirt with him.
She blew the curl out of her mouth. Very smooth. I rest my case.
“What did your mum say about men with picnics?” He indicated a backpack on the backseat. “Shannon packed it for me when I asked her about places to canoe. She suggested I drive out to Medicine Lake.”
Trying to keep her eyes off the way his upper arm bulged out of his T-shirt as he pressed his arm on the passenger seat, she focused on being a tourist guide. She’d done the same thing last night when she’d been sitting close to him in the helicopter and he’d been leaning in to look out the window. Every nerve ending had fizzled and popped so hard she’d thought her entire central nervous system would short out.
“Two Medicine Lake? There are three lakes with medicine in the name, but you can only canoe in two of them, unless you want to portage five miles. Remember to take a camera with you, because the views are spectacular.”
“I thought you might like to come, too?”
The causal invitation caught her by surprise and instantly sent her into a tailspin. Spending the day with Will in the close confines of a car and a canoe without the distraction of work would be a delicious but dangerous hell. She’d barely survived the patient-less return helicopter flight, and she could just imagine what disasters might ensue if her body went into a lust-fest meltdown at an inopportune moment. She’d probably capsize the canoe.
Don’t say no. Her body begged her, already preening. Please, don’t say no.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she said excessively politely, “but I was planning on having a relaxing day.”
“What’s more relaxing than mucking about in boats?”
“Sitting by the pool.”
His cheerful expression lost some of its dazzling wattage. “This weekend is going to be inordinately long without some company, and I could do with some local advice on choosing the lake. Please come.”
If he’d given her his devastating do this for me smile she’d seen him use on the nurses at work and all the women at the wedding, she could have resisted. Heck, she would have resisted. But the tilt of his head, along with his sincere plea that was tinged with loneliness, had her body softening faster than butter in the sun. She locked her knees against the sensation so she didn’t slide onto the sidewalk. If he kept turning to her for company, she knew it was a fast track to insanity. She needed to encourage him to broaden his social horizons.
Opening her mouth with the intention of suggesting to him that Cassidy, Marissa or Megan would all love to go canoeing, she was surprised to hear herself say, “Do you have enough food for two?”
He threw open the car door and patted the passenger seat. “Does a kangaroo jump?”
His accompanying grin totally distracted her from saying yes.
THE sun shone warm on Will’s back as he sat behind Millie in the Canadian canoe. An A-shaped mountain—all jagged edges and steep sides—rose dramatically out of the water, awe-inspiring in its dominance of the lake and taller than Australia’s best effort of Mount Kosciuszko. Even so, Millie had told him it wasn’t the tallest mountain in the park.
Despite being almost mid-June, patches of snow still clung to its windswept cliffs, and its sheer majesty should have acted as an eyeball and camera magnet, commanding his unwavering and awestruck gaze. The problem was, he couldn’t shift his eyes from Millie. Sitting behind her in the canoe was necessary for balance and power, but for concentration, it was a seriously bad idea.
There was something hypnotic about the way she gripped the silver pole—her knuckles gleaming almost translucent—and how she decisively dipped the black tip of the paddle into the water, breaking the smooth, still surface and sending ripples racing back toward him. The swinging movement as she crossed the paddle over her chest made her thick, curly ponytail swish back and forth across her back like the pendulum of a clock. The action was mesmerizing, because every time the ponytail moved over the T-shirt, it revealed the outline of her bra. The place where the straps hooked together stood out like a red, flashing beacon declaring, I’m the gateway guarding great bounty.
Gateway? He puffed out a breath. Given the chance, he knew he could flick those hooks open in a heartbeat.
Yeah, but you’re never going to
get the chance.
“Hey, we’ve slowed down,” Millie called out without glancing back. “You slacking off back there, partner?”
They were on their way back to the launching place after paddling out to a pebbly beach on the opposite side of the lake. They’d had an interesting start when Millie had totally surprised him by insisting on bringing that enormous tote bag she always lugged around. Of all the women he knew, Millie was the one he’d assumed could cope without a handbag.
“Surely you can do without your lip gloss for a few hours.”
She’d laughed at him. “I do without lip gloss most of the time. This is all about a good nurse being prepared,” she said, shoving it into the ironically named wet bag, which kept things dry.
He didn’t get it. “What’s in there that’s useful for canoeing? Does it double as a flotation device?”
She’d given him a long-suffering sigh. “What if I said I’ve got bear spray?”
That made him pause. He came from a country that hosted the most venomous snakes, spiders and jellyfish in the world, but he knew how to deal with them. Bears, on the other hand, were totally foreign, and if he was honest, he never wanted to meet one other than in a zoo with him very much on the outside of the enclosure. “Do you?”
A sheepish expression crossed her face. “No, but I probably should have. There’s lots of bears around here.”
Great. “Your bag weighs a ton. Do you really have to bring it?”
“It goes or I don’t.”
Her unusually steely tone and total intransigence had surprised him. All too late, he’d realized with some discomfort that she probably had her period and he’d just gone and embarrassed her. “I guess it better come along, then.”
Her good humor had instantly returned, and they’d made a pretty good canoe team, squabbling good-naturedly over direction and speed. Even though Millie was a local and Glacier National Park was her backyard, she seemed to enjoy the scenery as much as he did. She’d certainly spent a lot of time gazing at it.
When they’d arrived at the beach for lunch, Millie had unpacked and inspected every item of food—turkey and salad subs, chocolate chip cookies and apples—as if she was checking for things she wouldn’t eat. Given she’d scoffed a handful of nuts, seeds and dried fruit before they’d set out, he figured she was a bit of a health food fiend. Then she’d rummaged through her bag and produced hand sanitizer, a little black purse and some tissues.
“Just as well I brought this along after all,” she’d said, tossing the antibacterial gel bottle at him before disappearing into the bushes. Yup, she had her period and he’d felt like a dick.
There were moments when he forgot Millie was a woman—she was just Millie, fun, easy to be with, his mate—and then there were times like right now in the canoe when he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact she was every inch a woman.
“Will?”
This time her voice was louder, and she turned around, her copper-and-green-flecked gaze filled with inquiry. “Why have you stopped paddling?”
He immediately grabbed his camera with his free hand, trying to hide the fact he’d been so busy fantasizing about her boobs that he’d forgotten to paddle. “One more photo, okay?”
“Sure.” She gazed up at the mountain. “Take as many as you want. The Blackfeet called this area the ‘Backbone of the World.’”
“I can see why,” he said, taking another photo without really seeing the view. He swung the camera back and focused it on the back of Millie’s head. “Hey, Millie.”
She turned around, hair flying and cheeks pink from exertion and the sun. “Yes?”
He pressed the shutter button. “Gotcha.”
“No fair,” she said indignantly. “Delete it. I’ve probably got my mouth open and my eyes closed.”
He peered at the screen and into the face of a woman with a snub nose and an extra-wide mouth. A woman who wasn’t pretty in the classical sense, but there was definitely something about her. Something he’d missed seeing last summer, but now, this nebulous thing was grabbing him by the throat and taunting him with, You can look but you can’t touch. “You look great. Like you’re having a fun time out on the water.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes. “I bet I look like a lobster after it’s been cooked. I should have brought a hat.”
“Thought you’d have one in that bag of yours,” he said with a grin and immediately ducked as she splashed water at him. “Hey, watch the camera.”
“Wimp.” Laughing, she faced the front again. “Come on. Get paddling.”
“Want to hike up to the falls when we get back?”
“No.” Her incredulity at the suggestion rang out over the lake.
“Why not?”
“I’ve earned the right to lie on the beach and do nothing. You should try it sometime.”
Do nothing. He wasn’t good at doing nothing. He had two lives to live and no time to waste.
“ONE, two, three, lift,” Millie said with a grunt as she hefted one end of the deceptively heavy canoe onto the top of the car. “Man, this weighs a ton.”
“Almost there,” Will said encouragingly.
Millie didn’t dare look at the shirtless Will with muscles bunching as he easily lifted his end of the canoe, in case she dropped her end.
“Can you boost it a little bit higher?”
“Trying,” she gasped as she pressed up. “My arms are on fire.”
“That’s good. Now slowly down.”
Millie’s arms gave out and the canoe landed hard on the roof rack.
“That works, too,” Will said, flinching slightly as the canoe bounced.
“Sorry. For such a gentle paddle, my arms are telling me I’ve got muscles I didn’t know I had.”
He threw rope over the top and quickly tied some securing knots. “Start lifting weights, because next time we’re going white water rafting.”
Next time? Dear God, she had to find the man another friend before he assumed she’d join him hang gliding.
If he did, you’d say yes.
And more fool her, she knew that was true. She’d really enjoyed the canoeing. It had been fun, and what wasn’t to love about spending a cloudless, sunny day in world-class scenery?
Will’s world-class scenery, too, only you won’t let us even peek at him, her eyes and the rest of her body whined.
She’d worked out that if she avoided looking directly at him and she focused on everything else around her, her body was relatively well behaved. Late morning, when they’d been cheerfully scrapping over the best way to hold a paddle—in the exact same way as people who’d been friends for years did—she’d finally relaxed around him. There were even moments when she was facing forward in the canoe and not being hammered by the glorious visual that was Will that she believed they could actually manage to be friends. Unlike a lot of doctors she’d met, he didn’t take himself too seriously, and his sense of humor was as dry as a glass of Californian chardonnay.
Of course, he had this whole Energizer Bunny thing going on with the need to be constantly physically active. Already today he’d cycled and paddled, and now he was ready for a hike. She was ready to take a nap.
Her stomach rumbled. How could she possibly be hungry after the enormous lunch she’d eaten?
“Drink?” Will grabbed two bottles of water from the car and passed one to her before twisting the top off his.
“Thanks.” She’d just gotten hers open when he raised his to his lips and drank it down fast, his throat moving rhythmically up and down.
Her eyes just about bugged out of her head as they sent the visual to her brain. It promptly emptied. Her heart raced, her chest panted and barrages of hot, bone-melting need hit her, making it hard to stay standing upright. So much for not looking at him.
If he does this sort of thing after exercising, we are so going white water rafting. Heck, we’re going cycling and running and mountain climbing with him, because he totally has to drink after all of t
hose things.
No, we are not, because I will lose my mind.
Killjoy. The pout of a teenage girl had nothing on the one her body was currently giving her.
“You okay, Millie?” Will’s forehead creased in concern. “You look really hot and bothered.”
“Oh . . . um . . . I . . . do I?” Her hand automatically fanned her flushed face in embarrassment as she tried to pull her brain out of the vat of arousal it was currently soaking in. She needed it to stop feeling dizzy and start working, stat. “I’m fine.”
Will picked up a baseball cap from the back of the Jeep that read, Grizzly Triathlon, Missoula, Montana. Of course it did. The man wouldn’t have a cap that said anything as slothful as I’d rather be drinking beer. “Here.” He slapped it on her head, pulling the brim down so low it occluded her vision.
He pointed toward a stand of lodgepole pines. “Let’s go sit in the shade while you drink the water.”
Sitting next to Will and having him watch her intently wasn’t going to help her get her equilibrium back. Besides, she needed to be on her own, because she had to test her blood sugar. “How about me and my water go sit in the shade while you hike up to the falls.”
He tilted his head. “You sure?”
“Totally sure.” She started walking toward the trees. “I’ll be right here napping when you get back.”
He gave her a wave and took off at a jog, heading up the well-worn path that most tourists walked and walked slowly.
Her butt hit the soft mass of pine needles, and she checked Dex. Despite the huge lunch she’d eaten, her numbers weren’t as high as she expected. Perhaps she wasn’t as hopeless around Will as she thought and the dizziness wasn’t one hundred percent caused by him.
Nice try, but your blood sugar’s not that low.