by Donna Alward
She laughed. “Not quite. Besides, you’d tell a kid to put on his seat belt and I’m telling you to keep that strap around your neck.”
He chuckled. “Yes, boss.”
“Now go have some fun.”
“You’re sure?”
“When I first picked up a camera, I didn’t want a long lesson about what everything meant. I wanted to look through the lens and frame my shot. I wanted to play. The rest came later, when I fell in love with it and wanted to learn how to be better. Today’s your day for playing.” She touched his arm. Then she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.
He obeyed, because he was amazed at the level of trust she’d put in him, and he was humbled by what she’d shared. His first few shots were of the wide expanse of the meadow, getting a feel for the heavy instrument in his hands.
But then he took pictures of her. Walking down the path, her pack on her back. The way she turned and her ponytail bobbed from the hole in the back of her ball cap. She didn’t go far before she found a large rock and sat upon it, taking off the pack and rolling her shoulders. He was patient—he remembered her saying that patience was important—and got what he felt was a perfect shot of her relaxing on the rock, one booted foot on the grey stone, her arms resting across her knee as she took a breather, looking off into the distance.
It had been two weeks and a handful of encounters, and yet...he felt a strange, uncomfortable stirring in his chest. He was falling for her, he realized. And not because she was so pretty or that they had the outdoors in common, though that certainly helped. It was who she was on the inside. Vulnerable and yet trusting. Easygoing and yet with a perfectionist side he saw each time he viewed one of her photos. She had a quick sense of humor and a ready smile, and a bigger sense of adventure than she gave herself credit for. If there was anything that he didn’t like, it was that she seemed really insecure about her personal relationships. He supposed being bounced around as an air force kid would do that, but he got the feeling there was something more, too. Something she hadn’t shared with him. He could hardly ask her to when they both knew his place in her life was temporary. It wasn’t like he’d shared his deepest secrets, either.
She looked over, her eyes shaded by the brim of the ball cap, but her smile bright and warm. When he was with her things seemed to fall into place. Which was weird, because he already had the life he wanted.
Didn’t he?
That he questioned it at all troubled him, so he turned away and took a few more photos, focusing on a crown-like peak off to his right.
When he finished, he tried a few close-ups of some flowers, particularly the red paintbrush and the harebells. There were bearberries, too, and birds—so many birds. A grey one that reminded him of the whisky jack but wasn’t quite the same. He bet Harper knew.
When he went back to the rock, she was leaned back on it, sunning herself. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he perched on the edge, leaned over and touched his lips to hers.
“Mmm,” she hummed, and his blood raced. “Hello there.”
“This is a nice piece of equipment.”
“I assume you mean my camera,” she said, opening one eye as she squinted against the sun.
“Oh, that, too,” he replied, grinning.
She pushed up from the rock with a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“So I’ve been told already today.”
She laughed again. “Are you hungry? We can eat the picnic now if you want.”
“I could eat.”
He sat down next to her, but first took off her camera and handed it over. She put the cap on the lens and set it carefully beside her, then reached for the pack and the goodies inside. The first thing to emerge was a bottle of water. He uncapped it, took a drink and then handed it over to her.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and then she licked her lips to catch any remaining moisture and he clenched his jaw. Tuesday night had whetted his appetite for her and now he couldn’t stop thinking about holding her in his arms and kissing her. He didn’t remember the last time a woman had held his thoughts captive quite so readily.
She handed the bottle back and then dug into the insulated pack. “What’s in here?” she asked, digging around. She pulled out a package and peered at the label. “Hmm. Smoked turkey and gouda on light rye. Yours?”
He reached for it. “I’m guessing. I have no idea what’s in there, so keep digging.”
She took out a dish of crudités, and then another with a quinoa and chickpea salad—the vegetarian option—and finally strawberries, raspberries and plump blackberries with crème fraiche.
“Wow,” she said, looking at the selections spread out over the rock. “This is amazing.”
“I asked for a picnic and we got a feast.” He had unwrapped his sandwich, but held it in his hand, forgotten, as he watched her take out a fork for her salad. She fluffed the grains a little bit, tasted and closed her eyes. “Oh, that’s lovely.”
She was lovely. And she appreciated everything. He loved that about her.
They ate for a while in silence, enjoying the view and the fine weather, a little cooler at the higher altitude but still perfectly comfortable. “It feels like we’re picnicking on top of the world,” he said, brushing off his hands and reaching for a baby carrot.
“Not quite. But close.” She sighed, a happy, complete sound. “We are going to be able to hike a bit, yeah? Before they come back? There’s a view from that ridge that I think is going to be spectacular.”
“Do you feel up to that?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, particularly since I was saved the climb. Actually, the last few days I’ve felt great. Adele worries. She’d probably have a bird if she knew I was up here right now.”
“She knows.” He put down the crust of his bread and looked into her eyes. “I got a call from Dan last night.”
“About this?” Her brows puckered above her nose.
“No, something else. But I mentioned today and he asked if I thought this was a good idea.”
She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“I wasn’t sure if I should. I don’t want to make things more tense between you guys, you know?”
She nodded, looking down. “It’s not even that it’s particularly tense. I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”
He laughed a little. “You certainly aren’t.” Then his smile slipped. “Dan accused me of trying to impress you.”
She met his gaze. “Money doesn’t impress me, Drew.”
“Thank God. And I already knew that. Truly, I did this because I wanted to do something special and fun for you. Not to show off.”
When she didn’t answer, he reached out and touched her chin with his index finger, nudging a little so she’d look at him.
“What? Don’t you think you’re worth a little spoiling?”
She moved her head away from his finger and he knew he’d touched a nerve. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not that. It’s more...oh, it’s complicated.”
“Then we don’t have to talk about it now if you don’t want.” He let the matter go and reached for the dish of berries and the other of cream. He plucked out a raspberry, smeared it with some cream and offered it to her. “Peace offering?”
A smile flirted with her lips. “I can’t resist berries.”
“Or me?”
“Or you. And I’m scared for you to know it.”
He popped the berry in her mouth. “I won’t hurt you, Harper. And I’ll be honest with you. Eyes wide open.”
She chewed the berry and swallowed. “Like you were about being stinkin’ rich?”
He laughed, and the sound carried over the valley. “Touché. I mean, when it comes to us. I won’t lead you on or make promises I can’t keep.”
&nbs
p; She avoided his eyes and selected another berry. “I appreciate that.”
They packed up their picnic and shouldered their packs, ready to hike through the meadow to the peaks beyond before looping back again. The incline was only slightly challenging, and the views from the top were astounding. Drew took out his camera and took several pictures, and then watched as Harper worked her magic. She took her time, adjusting her position, working with her equipment, squinting at the light. When she was satisfied, she beckoned him over to where the faint trail met a junction. “This way is to the ridge,” she said, pointing, and he looked at the incline. If she was up to it, he was totally game.
They went only maybe half a kilometer when she stopped, lifted her camera and fired off a quick few shots. “Look at that lake. Isn’t it stunning? Now look at what’s around it.”
He squinted and looked, and she laughed. “Here.” She held up her camera, though she kept it around her neck. “Look to the right of the lake, about halfway up, and use the zoom.”
When he did, he saw a bull elk. “How did I miss that before?”
“It’s a ways away, you know.” He took a quick picture of the entire lake, and then adjusted to take one of the elk, always aware that they were tethered closely together by her camera strap. She smelled like something light and floral, fresh air, and the light sweat from hiking.
“Harper,” he murmured, releasing the camera. He turned her toward him and cupped her face. “Damn,” he whispered, and then kissed her. He wanted to do more, so much more, but knew it would be wrong. He was leaving and it would be unfair to her. But he wanted to, so much. She tasted like heaven and felt so alive in his arms. The camera dug into his diaphragm but he didn’t care. This place was perfect, the day was perfect, and kissing her right now, with the Rockies all around them, was the most natural and important thing in the world.
She sighed against his lips as the kiss eased. “Oh, Drew. What are we doing?”
“I don’t know. I just know it feels good.”
She nodded. “Me, too. When you kiss me...”
She broke off, took a deep, wobbly breath.
“What, Harper? What happens when I kiss you?”
“I forget about everything. There’s only you and me and all the things you make me feel. I know it’s not wise but I can’t seem to help myself.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”
She looked up at him then, her blue eyes wide and full of wonder. “No, it’s not. Because I trust you.” She smiled a little. “You said you would never lie to me.”
He swallowed tightly and put an inch or two between them. When it came to relationships he wasn’t reliable, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Harper. She was too special. He knew what a broken heart looked like and he didn’t want to be responsible for that again.
“You shouldn’t trust me,” he replied, his voice rough. “I’m good in business, Harper, but I suck at romance. Lies or not.” He remembered the accusations leveled at him over the last few years. Commitment-phobe. Married to his work. “My top focus is Aspen Outfitters. That’s not going to change.”
“I know.” She lifted her hand and ran her fingers over his jawline. “But I also know I trust you because you’ve been honest about that from the beginning. I’m not asking for more than you’re offering, Drew.”
But that was the problem. As he kissed her again, he knew he wanted to offer her more than he should. And to do so would only lead to hurt all around.
Maybe Dan was right. Maybe he didn’t know what he was doing.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY MADE THEIR way back toward the crest where they’d be picked up again, and Harper paused to catch her breath. There was more going on in her mind and body than simple physical exertion. Right now she was simply full of Drew. The way he looked and felt and tasted. What he’d said and the husky sound of his voice...she was in huge danger of falling for him. There was so much more than charm and charisma. There was a good, strong man beneath that persona. A man who freely admitted that work came before personal relationships, so why couldn’t she seem to stay away?
Instead they came to an uneven bit of ground, and Drew held out his hand. She took it, loving the feel of her palm against his.
And when she was over the rocks, she kept her fingers entwined with his. Days. They had only days left to enjoy each other. Why shouldn’t they?
She looked over at him and he sensed her gaze and looked back, a smile on his face. Harper felt something expand in her chest that was new and exciting. She rather thought it might be happiness. Did she dare hold on to it, even for a brief time? Her whole life she’d held herself apart from relationships, always afraid of getting hurt when they ended. Until she moved here, and she made a best friend—Adele. For the first time, she was confident that despite any awkwardness now, she and Adele would still be best friends and they’d work their way through the current dynamic.
She wasn’t afraid to care for Drew right now. She had no unrealistic expectations. Maybe it was time to live for the moment. Take chances, and live life with a bit of messiness. It had to be better than always being the one behind the lens, watching life happen to other people. She was so tired of being on the outside, even if she’d been the one to put herself there. The revelation was amazingly liberating.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Drew said, tugging on her hand.
“Walking is good for thinking, and thinking is good for working out problems.”
“Do you have problems to be worked out?” They made it to the crest and she leaned back, stretching with her hands on her hips.
“A few. It’s more realizations, I guess.” Her pulse quickened, a little nervous about what she was going to say. “I think I’ve spent a good portion of my life avoiding risks. But it’s not really living, you know?”
He squeezed her fingers. “Hiding behind your lens?”
She laughed a little. “Maybe. And I got comfortable there. Never letting myself get too close to people because I knew eventually I’d have to say goodbye. But I can’t seem to do that with you. I know you’re leaving soon. I know this will go nowhere after next week. But if I shut this down...” She caught her breath. “If I shut this down, what’s between us, I know I’m going to regret it.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “What do you want, Harper?”
Courage began to blossom in her chest, even as the faint sound of helicopter rotors started to pulse through the air. “I want to live. I want to stop playing it safe all of the time. I want to get out of my comfort zone now and again and do something daring.”
“You don’t call what you’re doing for Adele and Dan daring?” Drew lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes and no. I mean, I’m really pregnant. But when this is over, the whole plan is to go back to my safe and boring life. At first that was all I really wanted, but what if that’s not enough anymore? What if I want...helicopter rides through the mountains? Kisses on my porch? Surprises?”
The sound grew louder and she knew she had to get this out before the pilot landed. “The last few weeks, seeing you...it’s been good for me. I can feel it. I’ve been so afraid of getting hurt, but I think what’s always made me so cautious is being blindsided.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, every time I moved, it came out of the blue. My dad would get a change of orders and we’d move. New base, new town, new schools. New teachers, new kids who always stared at the new girl in class. For the first few times, I made good friends, but then it hurt so much to move again and say goodbye. Once I hit nine or ten, I stopped making friends. I understood that I’d have to leave again. By the time I was twelve, I had my first camera, and it became my friend. It never got left behind.”
Drew let out a breath. “Jeez, Harper. That sounds so lonely. I was really lucky to have my brother and sisters, you know? And
we lived in the same house growing up.” He shook his head. “Man. You were lonely and I felt claustrophobic. I love my family, but I couldn’t wait to get out on my own. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in one place.”
She squeezed his fingers. “I’m not blindsided this time. Like you said, eyes open.” The chopper got closer and the wind started to whip her hair as she raised her voice to be heard. “I’m ready for an adventure, Drew!”
His only answer was a quicksilver smile as the chopper hovered, inching its way toward the bluff. He held her hand tightly as they moved to the helicopter. And when they were buckled up and the chopper lifted off and then dropped over the side to skim down the valley, Harper kept her eyes open and went along for the ride.
* * *
Drew put his pack in the back of the car and took a deep breath. He had no idea what to do next. His feelings for Harper were complicated, but he’d felt in control of them. Or at least in control of how the next week would play out. Maybe seeing each other a few more times, enjoying each other’s company and a mutual goodbye at the end with no hard feelings.
Today had changed all that.
She hadn’t said anything since they’d disembarked. They had maybe fifteen minutes in the car to decide what would happen next. And he knew what he wanted to happen and what should happen.
He should drop her off and go back to the hotel. And yet, he wasn’t ready for the day to be over. Harper deserved to be treated like the special woman she was, and he wanted to be the man to do it.
Neither said anything until they got close to the townsite exit. Then Drew looked over at her. “I don’t want today to end. Come back to the hotel for dinner.”
He had to turn his attention back to the road but he felt her gaze on his face. “To dinner?”
He nodded, glancing over again. “I can take you home to change. It’s been too wonderful a day for it to end now.”
She sighed. “We could always order a pizza. You don’t need to go to all this trouble.”