High Reward

by Brenna Aubrey

  And it wasn’t exactly a secret I could keep from her, given I was wearing gym shorts.

  She froze, staring at me wide-eyed. But instead of jumping or screaming or scrambling for her towel she dropped her jaw and actually appeared pissed off. “Do you mind turning around or something?”

  I raised my eyebrow. “What’s the point of that?” I mean, I’d already seen everything, right? Many times, many hot, sweaty and very, very enjoyable times. I folded my arms. “You keep managing to get yourself naked in front of me. Why is that?”

  She rolled her eyes and reached for her shirt, which was lying on the bed, and pulled it over her head. My eyes sank down over her belly again and rested just at the top of her thighs. I wanted to taste her there.

  God, I missed sex.

  And I especially missed sex with her.

  Her eyes flicked downward, and she noticed. And here I was, caught like a fourteen-year-old boy in front of the hot teacher.

  Without saying a word, she bent and pulled on her underwear next, sliding them up her legs oh, so slowly. I gulped.

  “Nice try. You don’t actually think I was lying in wait to stop you in your tracks with my naked body.”

  “I was only pointing it out as an encouraging gesture. Feel free to do it as often as you like.”

  Having finished her task, she buttoned the fly of her jeans, sent me a snarky smile and said, “You should be so lucky.” Then she exited the room and climbed the stairs, leaving us standing there—me and my painful erection—to ponder what the fuck had just happened.

  You should be so lucky, she had said. And she was right. I wished I was.

  With a sigh and a hand in my hair, I shook my head and went to shower off the sweat of my workout.

  After a late lunch, there was plenty of silence and more awkward maneuvers to avoid each other. She read on her e-reader, and I played an old version of Mario Kart on the PlayStation hooked to the TV.

  Just before sunset, Gray emerged from downstairs with her shoes on.

  I frowned. “Going somewhere? That’s probably not a good idea.”

  She did not react, grabbing a hoodie and pulling her arms through it. “I need some air. I’m going down to the lake shore to watch the sunset.”

  Well that made two of us. I set down the game controller on the coffee table. “I’ll come with you.”

  “I’d rather be alone.”

  “And I’d rather make sure you’re all right at this elevation. We are at over 6,000 feet above sea level here. Exertion could have an effect on your heart.”

  She scowled. “I am perfectly healthy. You know, for all that you despise the man, you do a really good job of sounding just like my father sometimes.”

  If that was her way of turning me off the overprotective behavior, it was effective. But not effective enough to deter me. As long as Gray was within arms’ reach, under the same roof and it was in my power, I was going to watch over her. There was no question about it.

  Chapter 15

  Ryan

  Out the side door and down a flight of concrete steps, the path to the lake was a straightforward—if steep—one. In amongst the tall trees and the golden sky of early evening, we descended still more flights of concrete steps and navigated the well-traveled path downward to the shore.

  I watched her closely, just in case. Making the jump to this altitude from sea level of the Los Angeles area was not an easy one. And whether or not she protested, Gray did have a potential issue that should be watched.

  I’d done high altitude training many times—both as a Navy SEAL and as an astronaut, so I could acclimate after a day or so, usually. I noticed her slightly labored breathing, though, and I had to remind myself that it was normal.

  When we arrived at the shoreline, the sun had already set but the lake and sky were still light enough to provide visibility. But we’d be returning in the dark, so I’d noted the best possible pathway back from the lake even as I followed her.

  She stood at the shore where the cold azure water lapped softly against the dark soil in among the trees.

  It was peaceful. Birds were singing. A breeze riffled the leaves in the trees. Nearby, boats in their slips creaked against their moorings. I could almost be happy here, on an evening like this, with this girl…

  She was talking, narrating some story about an analog study that she was in the process of writing a grant to conduct. “I want to get some real, trained astronauts involved in the study along with civilians.”

  My brows rose. “To send to Antarctica for the winter? I’m not sure you’re going to get many takers.”

  She raised her head and looked at me. “Even in the interest of science?”

  I laughed. “Even astronauts try to avoid holing themselves up on a lone continent without any prospect of a warm body to keep them company only to freeze their balls off in hundred-below weather.”

  This she found extremely funny. As she bent over to pick up a few pebbles, she actually snorted. “As opposed to going to the ISS.”

  I shrugged, studying the sky. “Fair point. But there, you’re flying in space instead of freezing your ass crack off on the ground.”

  She was watching me closely, and her eyes drifted toward the sky. I knew what she was thinking. That it would be getting dark soon. She had to know that it was on my mind and perhaps she was keeping a close eye on me.

  But I’d been practicing with that, too. Being outside at night in Orange County was not too difficult because it never got that dark. Here, however, I could see that it would be very dark. And if my memory served, we still had a new Moon for another night, so we’d have no light but the stars tonight.

  “I don’t get these analog missions,” I said, baiting her. Perhaps if I got her talking about her passion, it would take her mind off noting any signs of my distress.

  She was dropping pebbles into the lake and watching the ripples. Plop. And she’d study the ripples, watching them ring out from the center until they faded to nothing. She’d stare intently, as if her life depended on tracing the rings out until they vanished. Then she’d search for another rock and repeat.

  “Analog missions are essential for experimental psychologists to gather data, so we can figure out how to best support actual space travelers. And with such harsh living conditions, Antarctica is a perfect analog for Mars.”

  “Uh huh,” I said, tilting my head to watch her. I was mesmerized by the arch of her long neck, the way her short hair shivered in the breeze. She extended her arm and, plop. The ripples danced out from their center and she watched, her mouth partially open.

  She didn’t tear her eyes away from the glass-like surface of the lake, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. I could listen to her speak for hours about analog missions or even the goddamn weather if she was passionate about it.

  But not just passionate. Gray was also compassionate, and intelligent, and her joie de vivre might even be contagious if I were of the mind to be able to catch it. For the brief period that she’d lit up my life, she’d been like a true ray of sunshine fighting hard to cancel out the darkness.

  But never succeeding.

  Because I was dead inside. So I could only witness her brilliance from a distance, like a dead black hole in the center of space that sucked all the light from the surrounding stars, bleeding them dry of all their energy until they, too, became lifeless, burnt-out husks.

  “So basically, you use lab rats in their more intelligent form.”

  She laughed. “This is how we learn what kind of support systems we need to help you guys. And the ‘lab rats’ are enthusiastic volunteers, doing it for science.”

  Plop. Plop. Plop. Three more pebbles, all one right after the other. The lake was lovely, but she had all my attention.

  “The participants have a lot of fun with it, too. I mean you love your job, but you have to do a lot of unpleasant things and take a lot of risks,” she added quietly while interrupting her pebble search to flick a pointed glance at me.<
br />
  Plop. All grew silent again. The wind stirred, and the sky dimmed to a pale purple and gray. She appeared lost in thought, so I just watched her, the vivid, shining young star who had dared to wander too close to the dead black hole and had been locked into my gravity. Who, only by the grace of my pushing her away, had managed to escape and did not realize her own good luck in doing so.

  She blinked and turned to me. “I can’t stop thinking about that metaphor about ripples in a pond and how simple words and actions spread out from the center and influence so much more. How events in our lives are like that… Things happen that end up causing ripples well into our future.”

  I leaned a shoulder up against the tree nearest me, folded my arms over my chest and watched her, a skeptical eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you a little young to be making philosophical statements like that?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been through enough that I like to think it gives me a unique perspective on life. Like I can usually tell when a person is lying to himself—and everyone around him. And how that sends ripples out from their center, too.”

  Well, well, well. Claws at last. I was wondering if she’d show them. God knew it had taken a lot. She had an excellent command over her emotions. I couldn’t help but think that she would have made an exceptional astronaut, had her health permitted it.

  I didn’t move, just kept that same stance, jammed stiffly against the tree. Despite the oncoming darkness, I could see the judgmental expression on her face. She’d flung a challenge right into my face. Damned if I was going to deprive her of the response she was looking for, in spite of it all.

  “Oh yeah? How am I lying to myself?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that.” She glanced around her, as if suddenly noticing the low light. Her eyes traced the way we’d come.

  I shrugged. “I think if you are going to throw out a judgement like that, you’d better be able to defend it.”

  “I am not your therapist.”

  “But—”

  “Do you think this will work?” A voice called out nearby from the lakeside. It was not close, but here amongst the quiet and the trees, the sound carried well. We both froze and turned. There was a cluster of three people near the boat dock, about three properties away from our own.

  “We’re not even sure which house they’re in! But we’ve got it narrowed down to one of the five on this side.”

  Reaching out, I grabbed Gray’s arm, and yanked her behind the tree where I was standing. I held a finger to my lips when she turned to me, wide-eyed.

  “Are those reporters?” she whispered. I was pretty sure that’s exactly what they were, so I nodded and put a hand over her mouth. I mouthed to her, No talking.

  The voices grew louder as the group walked along the shore, and we angled ourselves around the tree to stay out of sight as they approached. They paused, mere feet from where we had been standing and spoke again. “Either of you bring a flashlight? It’s getting dark out here real fast, and I have no idea what we are even looking for. They could be up in that glass one on the cliff right now having wild monkey sex, and we’d have no idea.”

  “It’s definitely not that one. Not big enough. I’m sure Keely has her squad with her.”

  Much to my frustration, Gray began to laugh behind my hand. Warm puffs of air blew out against my palm, and I shook my head stiffly. I held up my other hand, knuckles out with one finger up, turning it in a small circle. Her dark brows wrinkled together in a frown, clearly mystified by my combat hand signal, rally point. Meaning we needed to get the hell out of here and back up to the house before they saw us.

  Branches snapped under foot as the small group continued to walk along the shore. “Damn, Joyce, make more noise, please. It’s not like we’re on a covert operation here.”

  “I think you’re going over the top with this,” someone replied. The voices started to grow fainter as if they were moving away. I chanced a peek around our tree, confirmed by the sight of three backs. With relief, I nearly stepped out from behind the tree when I caught sight of a fourth person, someone who was standing on the beach and staring in our direction.

  I jerked behind the tree again and pulled Gray tightly against me. When she would have talked, I put my hand over her mouth again and pressed my mouth to her ear. “There’s one more on the beach. As soon as he turns his back, we are going up the way we came.”

  With her this close to me, I felt every inch of that lithe body against mine, the strawberries and mint of her scent. I closed my eyes, drinking it in, nearly delirious with it. Slowly I heard footsteps retreat from our position. But it took a monumental effort to convince myself I didn’t need to bury my nose in her hair anymore. She was clinging to my shirt, her hands fisted in the material. It was bringing back delicious memories of our bodies pressed together, touching each other, holding each other. Of me sinking deep into her heat, moving inside of her, making her moan.

  With no small effort, I pulled myself away and glanced around the tree to confirm there were no more people on the beach and they were walking away from us. I turned back to her and in the very dim light, pointed toward the house.

  I fell into step behind her as she picked her way through the undergrowth and back to the clear path that led to the many sets of concrete stairs. And though we were easily in the clear, she quickened her pace, perhaps conscious that I was right behind her. But she didn’t appear to be paying special attention to her footing, nearly slipping a few times.

  “Careful,” I whispered harshly, but she wasn’t listening. Instead moving faster. It was almost dark enough that we should have been using a flashlight—or at least the light on one of our phones, to pick the way. But that would be a sure way of being seen, even from a distance.

  She turned to reply over her shoulder. “I want to get up the steps before it’s too dark.”

  And that’s when she mis-stepped. The next thing I knew, she went down, her feet sliding out from under her less than a meter from the cleared path. I reached out but wasn’t quite close enough to catch her.

  She sucked in a loud breath, fortunately falling on her ass instead of bumping her head.

  When I knelt down beside her to check if she was okay, she was quietly laughing. “Well, I always did say my dad was an idiot for naming me Grace. Unless it was an exercise in irony.”

  “You okay?” I whispered as she reached down toward her ankle. “Did you twist your ankle?”

  “My foot came down on the edge of that big rock over there. I scraped my ankle and…oh!”

  She held up the hand that had just touched her ankle. It was wet and shiny. Blood.

  “You’re bleeding?” I said, my heart speeding up.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a graze.”

  “It’s okay for most people. Sure. Most people aren’t on blood thinners. Roll up your pant leg.”

  Instead she was trying to push to her feet. “I’ll be fine.”

  I put an end to that stupidity. “Stop it. Don’t move, goddammit.” I scooted to where I could reach her leg and rolled up her jeans myself, grasping her ankle. It was now too dark to be able to see much, especially since most of the light was blocked out by the trees and since, out here in Tahoe, there wasn’t much ambient light, like there was in the city. It was a clear, starry night. A gorgeous night.

  But my girl was bleeding, and I didn’t notice much of anything else as my mind raced through how to best manage the situation. She wasn’t being cooperative.

  “Ryan, stop treating me like an invalid. I’m fine.”

  “You’re fucking bleeding. Don’t you dare try to stand on this leg right now. You need a pressure bandage.”

  “Did you stuff something like that in your back pocket or something?”

  In response, I hooked my fingers around the collar of my t-shirt and yanked it off. I began twisting the material around my hands. As I worked, I peered into her face, which I now could hardly see. “Tell me you brought your wound sealing pow
der with you on the trip.”

  She hesitated. I checked the wound. She was bleeding pretty badly, even from a scrape. People on blood thinners were at risk even from superficial wounds such as this. I pulled her ankle up to rest on my bent knee and began to wrap my twisted t-shirt around it. “Gray?” I said sharply when she hadn’t answered me.

  “I forgot to pack it. This was a last-minute trip for me, and I didn’t anticipate—”

  “Fuck,” I spat as I pulled tighter on the t-shirt to give it extra pressure application. “Goddammit! What the fuck were you thinking, going on a trip without it? No one anticipates getting injured.”

  She blew out a long breath. “Don’t yell at me. I don’t have a crystal ball. I was preoccupied while I was packing.”

  Preoccupied? With what? With having to spend the weekend with me? Or perhaps she’d been thinking about that new guy—whatever the fuck his name was.

  I pushed to my feet, having finished the bandage. “On your feet. C’mon.”

  She held up an arm, and I gently pulled her to her feet. “I’m good to walk.”

  “The fuck you are. I’m carrying you up.”

  “All the way up all those stairs? No, I can make it. I just might need to lean on you.”

  I had my hands braced around both of her arms. “I’m not arguing with you. You’re getting on my back, and I’m taking you up. You’re still bleeding, and you know the risks.”

  She sighed but relented. “Okay.”

  “You hardly weigh more than my pack and kit, and you would not believe how many miles I had to hike with all that on my back. It will be just like the old days. I’m fine.”

  Then I crouched down, and she obediently draped herself across my back, hooking her arms around my neck. I clasped her legs behind her knees and hefted her onto my back, piggyback style. “Hold on tight. I’m going to go up the stairs double time, okay?”

  “Uh. Okay.”

  “Don’t let go, Gray.” I gave her one last command before I turned and picked my way along the path and made it to the base of the long climb on the stairs. Her arms tightened around my shoulders, and I tried not to think about the feel of her against me, or that vision of her standing naked in the bedroom like some kind of sea goddess standing on a wet towel instead of a clam shell. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the physically demanding task ahead.