by Marina Adair
If it was anything like Avery’s, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. “You invited me to a dress-up party?”
Right then, the door across the hall burst open, and three nurses pushed a gurney with an unconscious woman past them and into the hall, calling out orders in frantic voices.
“A princess party,” she said, watching the nurses disappear down the hall. When it was quiet again she looked up at him. “For a sweet five-year-old girl who misses playing dress up with her friends, who are scared to visit her because Caroline lost all of her hair during her chemotherapy.”
He felt something tighten in his chest, and it took him a moment to speak. “She has cancer?”
“Leukemia, and tomorrow she goes in for a bone marrow transplant, and I promised her I’d make her a princess before she went in for surgery,” Avery said, the emotion in her eyes overflowing.
Ty didn’t know a lot about Avery’s past or this journal of hers, other than she was sick last year and desperately wanted to be an adventure guide. But he was starting to understand it went a whole lot deeper than kissing a stranger or winning a crown for a check in some stupid journal.
Of course Avery would win a crown to make a little girl’s day special. It seemed she spent her days making the people around her feel special and cared for. He had no idea who cared for her, though. The woman seemed to have a sweet word for everyone she came into contact with, but as far as he could tell she didn’t have family nearby, and besides seeing her at the bar with his mom’s support group, she didn’t seem to have anyone else to count on.
For God’s sake, someone she knew was going in for surgery and she’d asked him, a guy she’d met a few weeks ago, to come to her little party.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he said, bringing her hand to his mask. He lifted it up enough to press a kiss to her palm. “And thank you for asking me to be a part of something that obviously means a lot to you.”
“It might be shocking at first,” she said, repeating her words from the other night and ripping his chest open a little further. “She’s going to look so small, and without any hair she appears doll-like, so fragile you’ll want to pick her up and squeeze her until she’s all right, but you can’t touch her until you wash your hands, and you can’t take the mask off.”
“It will be okay,” Ty said gently. “The night will go perfect, I promise.”
With a nod, Avery reached for the door, then hesitated for the briefest of moments. He could tell her smile didn’t fade beneath the mask, and it was still just as genuine, but there was a sadness behind it that broke his heart.
With a reassuring wink, he opened the door and ushered her in. “After you, my lady.”
Avery walked in first, washing her hands at the sink and having him do the same before moving into the room. The second she rounded the curtain she took on the demeanor of a duchess from the Victorian era. He watched her go to the side of the bed and curtsy. “Well, good evening, Princess Caroline.”
“You came. You came,” a small voice said. “When visiting hours ended and you hadn’t come Mommy said you might have to come tomorrow. But I told her tomorrow is my surgery and you wouldn’t miss seeing me before my surgery.”
“I apologize for my delay, Princess Caroline,” she said, not breaking character, but he could hear the emotion in her voice. “I knew how important your coronation was tonight, so I brought along a friend who might help in your crowning. Might I introduce to you the noble King Tyson?”
Avery stepped back and gave a regal swish of the hand, and Ty entered the room with one hand on his sword and one on his heart in salute.
All it took was a glance at Princess Caroline to be thankful he’d placed his hand over his heart—it was the only thing keeping it from breaking. Caroline wasn’t just tiny, she was the most precious thing Ty had ever seen. Her skin was pale, her head bald, and she was hooked up to a bunch of tubes and machines. Yet she was smiling as if she were at Disneyland and Cinderella had entered the room.
It wasn’t a far stretch to imagine Avery in a similar situation, in a different hospital bed, finding a reason to smile among the million or so reasons not to. He was no longer only impressed by her incredible strength, he was moved by it.
“Are you really here to make me a princess?” Caroline asked, her eyes wide with awe and a strength that was humbling.
Ty swallowed hard, then gave his most convincing bow. “My lady, I come bearing the gift of a princess crown and the vow that I will give you whatever your heart desires.”
The sun had completely set by the time they pulled into the parking lot, so Ty parked right next to the back entrance of the lodge. He noticed that Avery was shivering from the cold temperature, so he invited her in for a nightcap—which for Avery he knew meant a cup of cocoa.
Ty led her through the door and down the hall into the commercial kitchen, where he started a pot of cocoa. When it was steaming hot, he topped it with whipped cream and handed it to Avery, who had lost her heels and was sitting on the prep counter—those beautiful curls loose and wild, dancing around her face.
“Thank you,” she said, her tongue peeking out to lick the whipped cream in a move that had him groaning.
“You were one shiver away from becoming a Popsicle.” He ran his hands down her arms in an attempt to warm her—and because he’d been dying to get his hands on her all night—but he forced himself to tread lightly.
Between watching her come apart in his arms last night, then sharing such an intense and raw evening at the hospital, Ty was pretty certain that he was in too deep.
“I meant thank you for being amazing tonight with Caroline. You made her feel so special,” she said. “Even the nurses were swooning when you brought her those roses from the gift shop.”
“You made her feel special,” he said, parting her legs so he could move closer. “You make everyone lucky enough to be in your vortex feel special.” He watched her blush at the compliment, then to make sure she swooned, he rested his palms flat against the counter and whispered against her lips, “You amaze me, angel.”
“You make me feel amazing.” Her hands cupped his face, and she gave him a gentle kiss.
Ty kept it soft, caressing her mouth, then her neck, kissing his way down the silky smooth skin to the base of her throat, where he could feel her pulse racing. She released a gasp of pleasure, and he sucked her skin into his mouth, leaving a little mark. When he lifted his head, Avery’s eyes were dazed and her mouth curved into a smile alluring enough to have his pulse do some racing of its own.
Normally, this would be the point Ty would scoop her up and carry her off to his bed. But the kind of intimacy he sought tonight had more to do with Avery’s soul than her body. Not that they wouldn’t get there. He was planning on living this princess fantasy out to the fullest, but first he wanted to understand how a woman got to be so giving and sweet as to spend her night with a sick girl who, it turned out, she’d met less than a year ago.
Ty lifted his head as she opened her eyes, which were lit with desire. “Tell me more about this journal.”
Avery picked up her mug and took a sip of cocoa. “It is a living memory journal, filled with unanswered wishes and unreached dreams of people I’ve met. People who, for whatever reason, won’t ever be able to make it happen on their own.”
“Like kissing a stranger,” he asked.
She handed him the mug. “That was for my friend Bella.”
“Bella,” he repeated with a chuckle, and for the first time knowing that he was a part of some checklist didn’t bother him. “You even told me it was for Bella.”
“Yeah.” She reached out and traced his lip, coming off with a dab of whipped cream on her finger, which she licked clean. “You thought I meant beautiful, but that worked too. Bella was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met.” Ty had a feeling this story didn’t have a happy ending, but Avery’s grin grew, radiating warmth and fondness. “She moved to Sequoia Lake senior year, lived in the r
ental across from mine. She was my best friend, and she passed away a few years ago from cancer.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged like it was what it was. “She was the jokester of our group. Even at the end she was cracking jokes. But one night we got to talking about life and regrets, and she said that if she could redo one thing in her life, it would be to kiss a stranger.”
“And you saw me and decided I was the surrogate stranger?”
She shook her head, her curls spilling everywhere. “No, every time I had tried to be bold someone got in my way, or I got in my way. Then I saw you, and you were so strong and capable and something clicked. Like with you it was finally okay to live loud.”
Funny, because Avery made him feel okay to live peacefully. Around her the world seemed quiet and peaceful and healing. “Is Bella how the journal started?”
“No, it started with a picture of Sierra Point.”
Ty felt his stomach bottom out at the image of her making that climb. “Please tell me that isn’t why you took the job at the lodge.”
“I hope motivation isn’t one of your job descriptions,” she teased, stealing the cocoa back.
“Saving lives is,” he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear to soften his words. “Angel, I spend my workdays rescuing hikers like you from mountains they shouldn’t be climbing. So as a certified professional, it is my duty to inform you that you climbing Sierra Point is what we like to call a perfect storm.”
“I do strive to be perfect.” She took a hearty sip of her drink. “Which is why I’m not going up until I’m confident that you’ve taught me everything you know.”
“I could spend the next twelve months training you and you still wouldn’t be ready for that kind of climb.”
“I like when people underestimate me,” she said without a hint of defensiveness. “It makes it all the more exciting when I make it happen.”
He could teach her every trick in the book, and Avery climbing Sierra Point was not going to happen. Just the idea made his stomach sour. But he’d learned that everything Avery did, she did with purpose, and until he discovered her purpose behind this climb, he’d hold back judgment. “Okay, so back to the picture.”
“Right.” Her smile was back. “My parents spent their honeymoon backpacking and camping in the Sierras. They started in Lake Tahoe and worked their way up to Sequoia Lake. And there is this picture of her, standing on top of Sierra Point, her hands out to her side, the wind blowing her hair back like some kind of Valkyrie. She looked so beautiful.”
Avery demonstrated, and Ty had to agree—if her mom looked half as beautiful as Avery did right then wearing sparkles and a look of sheer abandon, then it must be a breathtaking picture.
“You could see how alive and in love she was. Happiness radiated from her.” She closed her eyes and smiled as if seeing it in her mind. “I think I get my sense of adventure from her. I haven’t had many adventures, but it’s been a burning desire inside me for as long as I can remember.” She hugged her arms around her chest. “Right before she died she gave me a letter, with instructions not to open it until I was standing on top of Sierra Point. That I wouldn’t be able to understand it until I understood my strength.”
“How old were you when she died?” he asked.
“Twelve. We moved here when it got really bad. I was eight, and she decided she wanted to live in the place that reminded her how wonderful it felt to be alive. She loved living here.”
Ty’s chest ached for the mother who knew she’d never see her daughter grow into a woman, and the young girl who had lost so much.
“So when I got sick, I held on to that letter and promised myself that when I got well I would make it to the top of that mountain. And somehow that climb would give me the strength I need to hear what she had to say.”
“It’s been over fifteen years. You’ve never once considered opening it?” Avery was one of the strongest people he knew. She didn’t need to make some climb to prove her worth.
“Oh, I’ve considered it.” She gave a small, self-conscious shrug that tore at him. “By the time I got into high school, I had written and rewritten her letter a million times over in my head, until I was so scared of what was inside I decided I never wanted to open it.”
“Then you got sick,” he guessed.
“Turns out some kidney diseases are hereditary. It’s rare, but it happens. Mom always said I was a rare treasure,” she said with a small laugh, but laughing was the last thing Ty felt like doing. Not when he pictured Avery alone in a hospital bed. “She was on the transplant list when I got diagnosed. The transplant list was longer than her body could wait.”
“I know sorry doesn’t make it better, doesn’t take away the pain, but I am so damn sorry,” Ty said. He took in her frail frame, the fact that she didn’t drink, the way she held her side when she was tired. And it all clicked into place. “Did you get a kidney transplant? Is that why you were sick?”
She gave a small nod. “I was going to dialysis a few times a week, and it was working, then about three years ago my body created more toxins than dialysis could filter out, and my other organs began to shut down. I spent more time in the hospital than at home, but in the end I was one of the lucky ones and was moved to the top of the list.”
But her mother hadn’t been. She didn’t say it, but he could see the guilt in her eyes, and he understood the lifetime of pain that came from being helpless to make a difference. The same surgery that could have saved her mother had been used to save her.
She was a girl with dreams and a sense of wonder who’d spent her entire life being chained to a hospital. He could only imagine how long her journal list was, how many years she had to dream and plan and wonder. His heart ached from the knowledge of a bright light like Avery confined like that. “Is that why you took this job? To be outside and around people?”
“And to find adventure,” she said, and he couldn’t help but smile at the genuine excitement in her voice. “Also there was the situation with the coworker.”
“Right, the idiot,” Ty said, knowing where this was going. He didn’t like it, but he knew exactly where it was going.
“Maybe, but I was the one who fell in love with him, so I guess that leaves me equally to blame,” she said. “I thought we would marry, explore the world, then settle down and buy a little house on the lake. Only I got sick and he got scared.”
“So the bastard bailed,” he said, feeling the sudden urge to go to Sequoia National Bank and have a little chat with the senior loan officer.
“This life isn’t for everyone,” she said, looking around. “At first I thought he was in shock. He’d never hesitated in taking me to my dialysis appointments. But when he didn’t come with me to meet the surgeon, I realized that me needing a transplant made it all the more real for him. Too real, I guess.”
Ty wanted to get real with this guy. It was obvious to anyone who spent two minutes with Avery that she was an all-in kind of person. She gave of herself and her love so freely, never hesitating to open up and let people into her world. All the way into her world. It’s what made her so special—and so vulnerable to disappointment. Having someone bail on her when she was fighting for her life?
That kind of loss must have cut her deep, devastated her entire world.
“I change my earlier statement,” Ty said, pulling her back against him and nestling her against his chest. “He isn’t an idiot. The guy is a fucking coward.”
“At first I was so focused on the surgery and what would happen if we didn’t find a donor, I didn’t have time to think about anything other than he was gone. I was scared to death, and my rock was gone,” she said. “But later, after I was released from the hospital, I realized I wasn’t looking for a rock. Rocks are rigid, unmovable, stable.”
She crinkled her nose as if she’d smelled pond scum, and he chuckled. “And stable is overrated,” he said, repeating her words from that first night at the bar.
&nbs
p; “And boring.”
“I don’t know, I think you’re giving stable a bad rap. Stable keeps things moving, keeps things safe.”
She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Stable wouldn’t burn rubber down the interstate with only the moonlight as a guide.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth and lingered. “And stable wouldn’t kiss a stranger in a bar.”
“Point taken,” he said, loving that with her there was never any guessing. Avery knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it. So when she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his all he could think was fuck stable.
“I’m glad I was the one you kissed,” he said against her lips.
“Me too,” she whispered, her eyes so full of emotion his throat tightened, because his time here was coming to an end. And they both knew it.
It was going to be hell walking away from her, from this feeling. He could pretend that this was nothing more than a fun, light fling. But he knew from experience that pretending could be more dangerous that lying. Because pretending implied that a part of the lie was based in truth.
“So not a single thing on that list is yours?” She shook her head. “If you could write down one wish, what would it be? And yes, I know it doesn’t work like that, but if I were making a journal what would your page say?”
“To go horseback riding through the mountains,” she said without hesitation. “When I was little my mom took me horseback riding and I loved it. But when my kidneys acted up I wasn’t able to do anything that could bruise them, like contact sports, skiing—”
“Or horseback riding.”
She shook her head. “So if I could do anything it would be horseback riding.” Her grin turned wicked. “Or BASE jumping.”
Ty shook his head. “Your sense of adventure borders on life-threatening.”