by Jill Shalvis
Aidan Kincaid himself, reason number three for her leaving this place and never looking back.
And now she was on his family’s property.
It’s temporary, she reminded herself. This job, being here, it’s only until you get a call back on your resume for another job anywhere other than here. Still she pulled over and called Jonathan. “You were vague about the salon’s exact location,” she said, with what she thought was remarkable calm. “It’s not the one downtown.”
“No. That place went out of business five years ago.”
“I’m going to the resort, aren’t I?” she said.
“Yep.”
She put a hand to her pounding heart. “Oh, my God. Jonathan, I can’t. You know I can’t.” But even as she said it, she knew she had to. She’d sent out approximately thirty resumes over the past few weeks and though she stalked her email hourly, she had nothing else on tap. Nothing, nada, zip.
She also knew why. Yes, she’d managed to claw and fight her way to the very top of the food chain at one of San Diego’s premier salons, but she’d also had it all ripped from her with shocking ease.
Thanks to trusting her boss, who had asked her to leak some “confidential” client information to the press about a celebrity, a big celebrity—one known for her gorgeous hair. They’d done it before, lots of times. It was common practice. So she never thought twice about it—until it had backfired and she’d taken the fall. And thanks to the paparazzi fallout, no matter how great her resume looked, she’d been forced to move two states over, all the way back to Colorado, before she could get another job. A temporary—and pity—offering from the only person she’d kept in touch with here in Cedar Ridge.
Jonathan, who happened to run Mane Attraction.
“Now, you listen to me,” he said very gently, very calmly—clearly a man used to dealing with hysterical women. “You know you’re good. The very best cosmetologist I know. And I need the very best, Lily Pad. Granted, it’s not a manager position like you had, because that’s my job. But I need you while Cassandra’s off to have her baby. It’ll be a walk in the park for you compared to the clientele and work you’ve been doing in San Diego, and by the time Cass is ready to come back, hopefully you’ll have heard back on a permanent job somewhere you actually want to be.”
“But—”
“But for now you’re here,” he said. “I’m all you’ve got, and not to be a complete dickwad, but I’m going to make the most of that. I need you.”
She closed her eyes. “I ran into him.”
“Who?” Jonathan asked and then gasped dramatically. “No.”
“Yes.”
“And it was no big deal because you’re all done up California-style, right? You’re wearing fab clothes and makeup, looking totally irresistible so that he rues the day he let you go, yeah?”
Lily blew out a sigh.
“I’m reading volumes into that sigh, Lily Pad.”
“You should be,” she said. “First of all, no one let me go—I left. And second, being here …” She swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Jonathan,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Well, pull on your big girl panties, because you’re already doing it.” He softened his voice. “Listen, I get it. I lived next door to you, remember? But it’s been a long time, sweetheart. It’s okay to move on, to have a life for you. It’s okay to be happy back here, and maybe even rediscover your love of this place.”
There was so much there that she couldn’t touch. So much. Mostly because it was all true. So she concentrated on the part she could control. “But what if what happened in San Diego follows me—”
“It won’t. You were thrown under the bus by your boss and boyfriend. No one would do that to you here, not even an opportunist like me. I’ve got your back. You’re the sweetest, kindest person I know, Lily.”
“You need to get out more,” she said, uncomfortable with the praise.
“Shh. I know of what I speak. So … how did he look?”
“Who, Aidan?”
“No, the tooth fairy,” Jonathan said. “Yes, Aidan. How did he look?”
“Sexier than sin on a stick,” she admitted miserably. “The bastard.”
Jonathan laughed in agreement. When it came to all matters sexual, Jonathan was a free agent, playing for whatever team suited him in the moment.
“It was like time reversed itself,” she said. “It took me right back to when … when I left. I want to blame him, but of course I can’t. Especially since it was all my fault.”
Jonathan stopped sounding amused. “Nothing about what happened was your fault,” he said fiercely. “Not Ashley dying on the mountain, not your dad’s heart attack, nothing.”
Lily nodded, which was dumb, since he couldn’t see her. But her throat was too tight to talk.
“Lily? Tell me you didn’t stay away all this time because you think you’re responsible.”
She opened her mouth and then shut it.
Jonathan swore with impressive skill. “You’re no more responsible than the mountain itself,” he said.
“Not true.” Everything had been a dare between Lily and Ashley, a challenge. God forbid they play Barbies or have a tea party together, like so many other little girls. Nope, they’d goaded each other through life at full speed, fighting for their parents’ attention, grades, skiing, climbing, and once upon a time, Aidan.
“Lily—”
“Listen, I’ve gotta go,” she said, unable to discuss it. “I’m heading into a tunnel, bad connection.”
“There are no tunnels in Cedar Ridge.”
Committed to her lie, Lily used the back of her throat to fake static. “Hello? Sorry, Jonathan, I’m losing you.”
“Uh-huh,” he said dryly. “You need more phlegm in that static, babe.”
With a grimace, Lily disconnected. She pulled back onto the road. A few minutes later she passed by the resort, which looked busy.
They were in the middle of high summer season, which drew in everyone from bikers to kayakers to climbers to office dwellers on vacay.
Just past the resort, her GPS binged, letting her know that she’d come to the address that Jonathan had given her for housing. He’d told her that the efficiency apartment came with the job, and when she pulled up in front of a large barracks-like building, she got why.
It was employee housing for the resort.
Lily’s unit was on the second floor, and she’d gotten a one-room apartment. She’d assumed that meant one bedroom, but nope. It meant one room. As in the kitchen, dining room, living room, and bedroom were all one big open space.
Big being a bit of a stretch.
Out the back window, she had a view of the lake. From the front window, her view was the parking lot of the resort and the base building.
And the mountain.
She could see most of Cedar Ridge from here, including Dead Man’s Cliff far off to the right. Technically it wasn’t part of the Cedar Ridge Resort property. In fact, Dead Man’s Cliff was closed off to climbers and skiers alike, having been deemed too dangerous since the early 1960s. The only thing allowed there was on-trail hiking.
This hadn’t stopped the daredevils from going up and attempting to free-climb the face. But true to its name, it’d killed more than one adventure-seeking idiot.
Ten years ago that idiot had been her sister.
Lily’s chest tightened. Well, what did she expect? She’d known she would stir up all sorts of emotions by coming back here. Still, it was harder than she’d imagined.
Turning away from the window, she changed her shoes and her intentions. Suddenly she needed to show the mountain she wasn’t afraid. She was going to go for a hike. Not a climb. Just a simple, easy hike. And if she got to the spot where Ashley had left the trail and tried to climb across the face of Dead Man’s Cliff and fallen to her death, then she’d stare that place down and … hell. She had no idea.
But since she had nothing pressing other than obsessin
g about how she’d ever thought coming back here might be a good idea, she geared up and headed out.
It took her a good half hour to force her feet to move past the trailhead. Twice she turned back but stopped herself.
She could do this.
It was another two hours before she got to the well-known fork in the trail at the base between Cedar Ridge and Dead Man’s Cliff, and she was breathing heavily from exertion by the time she did.
Decision point.
Left, and she’d get to an extremely popular hiking trail that would take Lily to about nine thousand feet and give her an incredible, awe-inspiring view.
Right, and she’d get to Dead Man’s Cliff. The trailhead had a sign posted that read:
EXPERIENCED HIKERS ONLY
DANGEROUS CONDITIONS
NO FACE CLIMBING
STAY OFF ROCKS AND OUTCROPPINGS
For most, this served as enough of a warning. But for the daredevils, it was an active dare.
And a death wish, of course, for those who chose not to listen …
Like Lily, when she’d been younger and far more stupid. Once upon a time she’d wandered all over this mountain looking for a way to challenge herself and she’d found it here. Hiking up to the top of Dead Man’s Cliff and free-climbing on the face was the one thing she’d been able to do that Ashley hadn’t, and remembering how she’d bragged about it backed up the air in her lungs.
Because of course Ashley couldn’t possibly let the unspoken dare go. Nope. She’d had to attempt to beat Lily, as she did at everything.
And she’d died because of it.
Lily’s heart started a heavy, fast beat as she stared at the sign another moment and then …
Took a step back.
Maybe back then she’d had no fear, but that had changed. Big-time. Feeling responsible for your sister’s death did that to a person.
And your dad, too, a little voice inside her added. Don’t forget.
As if she could. He’d collapsed at Ashley’s funeral from a heart attack and had died en route to the hospital.
With them both gone, Lily’s mom had decided leaving town was the best way to heal. She retired and sold the house. So Lily had taken off, too, meeting up with her mom once a year, or as often as their paths crossed—not easy, since her mom loved to travel. Lily was only back in Cedar Ridge now because she needed the job. But standing at the trailhead she suddenly knew she’d also come back for something else—to somehow find forgiveness.
Maybe then she could finally really move on.
She was still standing there when her phone rang. Not recognizing the number, she hit IGNORE. A minute later came a text from that same number:
If you’re looking for something bad for you, try me instead.
Lily stilled. She didn’t have to be told who it was, she could hear Aidan’s voice as she read his words. But how …? Where …?
She whirled around, searching above her for the security camera she hadn’t realized was out here. Though it made sense. In the past ten years, Cedar Ridge’s popularity had boomed. It was much more remote than the most well-known Colorado ski parks, but for the people who wanted extremely challenging, rugged, and out-of-the-way adventure, it was here at Cedar Ridge for the picking.
She couldn’t find the camera, but knowing she was being watched, she hit REPLY:
How did you get my number?
She got a reply in seconds. Jonathan.
She growled, then hit DELETE and left. A few minutes later she received another text:
Good choice.
Funny, coming from Aidan. Oddly enough, back when she’d known him, he hadn’t been a natural risk taker. He’d been sharp and ready, willing and up for anything, and maybe a tad bit feral—but though he’d often found trouble with his brothers, he’d been smart about his walk on the wild side.
In truth, he had been her complete opposite.
Still was. Now he’d become the risk taker—firefighting, S&R—and she the cautious one.
And he was sitting in front of the security feeds somewhere, watching her, aware of what she was doing and knowing she’d failed.
Her thumb hovered over DELETE, but somehow her wires got crossed and she typed a response instead: Just out trying to acclimate to altitude again.
His reply was immediate: You were born acclimated.
Yeah, maybe he was right. But she was no longer that girl he’d known, kissed, and found lacking.
And yet, here she was taking on her biggest adventure of all. Coming home to where she no longer had a home, where she was constantly reminded of why she’d left in the first place, forcing herself to face her demons and grief.
And then there was once again seeing the first man to have ever stolen her heart.
Stolen.
Stomped on.
Run over.
Which meant that maybe she still had a little bit of risk taking inside her after all.
Chapter 6
That evening Aidan strode to his truck after a hell of a long day, his eyes gritty with exhaustion, his stomach rumbling from eating nothing but a few PowerBars all day long.
The lost hiker call had turned out to be a false alarm, and Aidan had ended up making the board meeting after all, which was how he’d seen Lily on the monitors, hiking toward Dead Man’s Cliff.
He’d been surprised, though he shouldn’t have been.
If he’d lost one of his siblings on the mountain and had left Cedar Ridge shortly thereafter, it’d probably be one of the first places he’d want to go see upon his return as well.
But he wouldn’t want to do it alone.
He’d started to go up after her when he’d gotten another S&R call—a three-year-old had wandered out his back door into the woods and vanished.
It’d taken several heart-stopping hours to find the kid three hundred yards from his house, asleep at the base of a huge cedar tree only a few feet away from a steep drop-off.
Now Aidan was finally heading home. An evening thunderstorm was moving in, and, as always in the Rockies, it moved fast. In the five minutes that passed while he stopped for a desperately needed soda, the sky had darkened considerably. Thunder rolled in with the rain, loud booms that made the earth shudder. Already the roads had become slick and dangerous, but that didn’t give him pause. Cedar Ridge was rustic, remote, and isolated, and only the hardy and the durable lived here.
He wondered whether Lily was still hardy and durable. Not that it mattered. He’d been there, bought the T-shirt, and gotten left behind, not for the first time either. The first time it had been his father who’d left. But Aidan had a steep learning curve and worked hard never to repeat a mistake.
Allowing himself to care about Lily again would be just that—a big mistake.
Lightning flashed, followed by another rumble of thunder that had the road beneath his tires trembling. The other vehicles on the road kept as steady as he did. Yep, durable stock in these parts. And Aidan and his family were just about as durable as they came. People said they were untamable and born troublemakers.
They’d be right on all counts.
He rolled up his window, because the evening air held a sharp chill now, a reminder that spring had barely left and could make a reappearance in an instant. The season had been particularly heavy and wet this year, leaving the mountains lush and green and thick