Swept Away (Wildfire Lake Book 3)

by Skye Jordan

  “Whoa.” I hold out a hand. “That’s as comfortable as you get, Wilde.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind me getting comfortable at Wanderlust.”

  “Whole different purpose.” And, damn, I don’t need a reminder.

  I try—really try—to keep my gaze off his chest. Not only do I fail miserably, but I can’t seem to keep myself from scanning his abs and the way his uniform pants hang easily on his narrow hips. I can’t keep my mind from swinging back to that moment earlier today, when all he wore was a sheet, and I felt like I was standing on a cliff edge—a cliff edge spanning a cavern with something on the other side that actually makes me want to jump.

  “No need to get comfortable here,” I tell him. “You can head home.”

  “I’m not leaving you with all this.” He gestures to the boxes. “What kind of shitty boyfriend would do that?”

  Something skips in my stomach. “Don’t get used to that title. We both know you’re going to shed it the second these ten days are over.” I narrow my eyes. “You do realize that you can’t date anyone else while you’re supposedly dating me, right? If that got out, it would be worse than people thinking I took Bodhi back. It would look like—”

  “You’re a repeat offender. I get it.” His gaze turns inquisitive. “Is that what all your resistance with me has been about? Me dating other women? Because I’ve told you I would drop everyone else for you in a heartbeat.”

  I’ve deftly danced around saying just that, because even if he did say he only wanted me, I wouldn’t believe him. That’s exactly what Bodhi told me, and look how that turned out. And he’s most definitely not said he’d stop seeing other women. But even if he had, I wouldn’t have taken him up on it. Once a playboy, always a playboy.

  “And, I can’t lie.” He steps close, tucks a knuckle under my chin, and lifts my gaze to his. “That kiss turned my head, beautiful. Let’s just double-check on that chemistry.”

  He lowers his head, and I put a hand against his chest, leaning away. “Hard pass.”

  “Worried you might like it a little too much,” he says as if it’s fact. “Valid concern.”

  “Whatever.” I drop my hand. “If you’re not going to leave, then you can haul a couple of those boxes inside.”

  I turn and open the door.

  “Tame that enthusiasm,” he says with thickly edged sarcasm. “A boy could get the wrong idea.”

  I step into the living room, careful to stay in the path I created earlier. Xavier stops short at the sight of the sea of pink and groans. Internally, I feel the same, and looking at them all again just brings up my negative thoughts. I really could use Xavier’s help.

  “You already offered,” I say, singsong.

  Hands on hips, he surveys the totes. “I did open my big mouth, didn’t I?”

  “You definitely did.”

  I follow the narrow path I created with the bags to the middle of the room, which serves as both living room and kitchen, and reach toward the counter to open a drawer and pull out a box cutter.

  When I turn around, I find him fiddling with the handle of the door leading to the deck. “What are you doing?”

  He pulls his cell from his back pocket and texts someone. “How long have I been telling you to get better locks?”

  “I have a few other pressing matters to deal with at the moment.”

  “I don’t.” He gets a return text and says, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wilde,” I yell after him, “don’t you bail on me after you said you’d help.”

  But he jogs down the dock and disappears into the darkness. I sigh and shake my head. If anyone else had done what he’d done tonight, I’d be too pissed to speak, but I’ve always found it difficult to stay angry with Xavier.

  I turn back to the mess at my feet and look at the boxes of Bodhi’s books. It’s surreal to know he’s so close. All this time, I pictured him on the other side of the world, still bedding his groupies. Now he’s in my freaking backyard saying he misses me and that he’s changed.

  I pull a schedule out of a tote bag and find my name at the book signing, round tables, Q&A, discussion panels. I’d planned on supporting Shannon before I knew that name belonged to Bodhi. I remember how hard it was for me to get started in this business, how nervous I was to be an instructor and then a leader. I planned on reading this book tonight so I could see if our beliefs on spirituality meshed.

  Now, I just feel stupid, which is exactly how I felt when I discovered he’d been unfaithful to me, naïve and stupid. I’m disgusted with myself for needing it, but, yeah, space between me and Bodhi would be best.

  I make a spot for myself in the corner of the room and carry a box of books in, then I start trading my book for Bodhi’s.

  Memories hit me from every direction. I lift one of Bodhi’s books from the box and tilt it toward the light. It’s a blue cover with the image of a triangle and the title embossed across the front. I’m surprised to realize I don’t even care enough about the book to read the cover copy. I don’t feel the need to compare my work to his, my cover to his, my content to his, my publisher to his.

  Score one for my heart. Ego would have been all over those comparisons.

  Maybe I didn’t backslide as far as I thought. Maybe at least some of the work I’ve done over the last year has taken root.

  One by one, I slide Bodhi’s books into each tote and take mine out, silently repeating soothing mantras. I turn inward for guidance. Vulnerability is where healing begins.

  The words soothe my nerves, but my mind still wanders back to the trauma of seeing Bodhi again, scrutinizing every detail of our interaction. When I notice my ego flare—how I was right to leave him when I found out about the other women, how selfish it was for him to hijack me this way—I stop what I’m doing. Already on my knees, I sit back on my heels, close my eyes, and drop my head back.

  “Vulnerability is where healing happens,” I murmur, filling my heart with the positive to banish the darkness. “Healing is brought about through love and vulnerability.”

  Xavier’s boots sound on the deck again, and I open my eyes to find him at the door surveying the bags. “It’s too bad you have to take your books out. There are three hundred potential readers coming to this thing.”

  “It’s fine. I’ll set up a table somewhere in the conference center where people can pick up a copy.”

  Xavier drops to his knees in front of the open living room door and starts dismantling the doorknob. His muscles ripple against the white cotton, shooting my mind back to the feel of those well-developed laterals and trapezius under my hands, and my mouth goes uncomfortably dry.

  I push to my feet and tiptoe around bags to reach the fridge. I pull out a sparkling water for myself, then reach for a Heineken among the three different beers I stock—Heineken for Xavier, Dos Equis for Ben, and Sam Adams for Levi. My fridge is so small, I only have one of each chilled at any one time, and I immediately replace this Heineken for another stored in the cabinet.

  I open the beer and set it on the floor beside him. “That doesn’t have to be done tonight.”

  “Oh, yes, it does.”

  His low, emphatic tone makes my gaze lock on his face. And, God, what a beautifully male face it is. Eyes rimmed in thick black lashes any woman would kill for. Hair so dark, it looks black unless he’s in direct sunlight. Olive skin darkened with the day’s beard.

  My face tingles where that beard caressed my skin as he kissed me. And just like that, my mind jackknifes to the look in his hazel eyes just before his lips touched mine—the desire, the focus, the affection. For an instant, we were the only people on that deck. For an instant, all my walls and reservations fell away. “Hey, baby. Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

  The sound of the drill startles me, and I’m shocked to find Xavier putting another hole in my door. “What are you doing?”

  “Putting in a dead bolt.”

  “Why are you so high maintenance tonight?”

&nbs
p; “You’ll thank me when that fucker comes to your door.”

  My stomach gives an uncomfortable squeeze. “He’s not going to come here.”

  Xavier stops what he’s doing, turns his head, and meets my gaze. “Are you in denial, or are you seriously that naïve?”

  Okay, it’s one thing for me to think I’m naïve, and I don’t really care whether or not he thinks I’m naïve, but it’s a totally different thing for him to mock me over it. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “Let’s make a bet,” he says. “If he doesn’t come over here uninvited in the next ten days, I owe you dinner. If he does, you owe me dinner.”

  “I’m not naïve enough to take that no-win bet.”

  “You could see it as a no-win, but I like to think of it as a double win. And that no-dating thing is going to have to change if you want people to think we’re together.”

  Well, shit. He’s right. The next ten days stretch out before me like an eternity. I want to tell him to call off the fake relationship. Tell him I can handle Bodhi on my own. But all I have to do is think back to the way my heart rose to my throat when Bodhi apologized and the look in his eyes when he said he wants me back to know I need a buffer. Besides, it’s not about how I feel about Bodhi. It’s about how the assumption that Bodhi and I are together again will damage my integrity, and integrity is my platform, my base, my way of life. Integrity is everything.

  Still, needing Xavier for this makes me feel like such a loser.

  He unpackages a new door handle KT had picked up some time ago. Levi’s been meaning to replace the door handles and better secure the boat for my personal safety, but since nothing dangerous ever happens in this town and everything required for the marina’s opening overshadowed the small stuff, the doorknob fell way down on the to-do list.

  Silence falls between us, one that’s comfortable and supportive despite our bickering. When he’s finished with the front door, he hands me the new keys and prowls around the rest of the boat checking windows and the back door.

  His certainty that Bodhi will not only come here but try to get in uninvited is unnerving. The truth is, the day I found out about Bodhi’s infidelity, I realized I didn’t know him at all. That the man I loved didn’t exist anywhere except in my mind. So, to be honest, I have no idea what he will or won’t do.

  Xavier returns to the living room, hands on hips, his gaze on the swath of pink covering the floor. “You need to use that metal bar in the track of your sliding glass door.”

  “But I need air circulation,” I tell him.

  “Look, I know this goes against all your hippie freedom vibes, but I also know firsthand a man will go to great lengths to reach a woman he wants. So, for tonight, please promise me you’ll sleep with your doors and windows locked. I’ll pull in a fan from KT’s shop so you feel like you’ve got air. Tomorrow, I’ll bring over locks for the windows that will allow them to stay open a little bit.”

  I slide another book into a bag and fluff the tissue. “You’re freaking me out.”

  “The only other alternative is to have me sleeping here with you.” When I look at him, he’s grinning in that hot, sexy way that makes my insides tingle. “Then you could leave the windows wide open. Or you could come to my place and sleep there.”

  Xavier’s renovating a little house closer to town, and truthfully, I’d like to see how it’s going, but not this way. The image from earlier in the day sizzles to life in my brain again, all that olive skin against white sheets. Yearning pulls deep in my chest. To cover, I roll my eyes.

  “That’s what I thought.” He moves a few bags around, sits cross-legged on the floor, and pulls a schedule from one of the bags, then glances around and says, “Toss me that pen.”

  I reach for the pen on the side table and offer it to him.

  “Okay,” he says, “what have we got? Welcome and introduction tomorrow morning.”

  “You can leave that. I’ll welcome everyone, but I’ll skip his introduction. He can introduce himself.”

  For the next five minutes, Xavier scratches my name off three panel discussions, the joint book signing, and a Q&A session.

  “This sucks,” I tell him, deeply disappointed over the turn of events.

  “It would suck worse to go through with all this in front of three hundred people, leaving everyone to wonder what you really stand for. The confusion alone could ruin the momentum you’ve gained in your business this year. Based on what I’ve learned, Bodhi’s business dealings may be on the up-and-up, but he’s going to eventually push the #MeToo envelope a little too far and implode. I’d rather you not be associated with him when he does.”

  I’m touched by his serious concern, and some of my anger melts away. “You so get me.”

  “I try, but sweetheart, I’m just a simple man. We never really get women. The best we can do is fake it.”

  He takes out his phone and taps the face, then looks from the phone to the paper.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Comparing the events to my work schedule. Looks like I can make almost everything—three of the five group dinners, and I can trade a shift with Jeremy to make the cocktail event.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure everything that happened tonight sent a clear message. In fact, I don’t think we have to actively keep up this charade. He’s met you, seen us together. I’m sure he’ll back off.”

  He lifts his head and studies me. “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you after we came out of the closet—no pun intended, but damn, it fits in all sorts of ways.”

  My heartbeat skips. And dammit, that makes me angry. “How was he looking at me?”

  His gaze goes distant and a moment lingers before he answers. “Petulant, determined… Hard to explain.”

  My lungs release air I didn’t know I was holding, but I’m still not sure if that’s from relief or disappointment. “You have a habit of always assuming the worst.”

  “That’s because I see the worst—on a daily basis. Besides, assuming the best didn’t work out so well where Bodhi was concerned, did it?”

  “I wish you’d just be a dick or be nice,” I mutter. “This teeter-totter is annoying.”

  I pile my books in the empty box Bodhi’s came in and stand to grab another, but Xavier stops me and brings it in himself. It’s a small gesture, but it’s sweet and so very Xavier. Even though I don’t exactly like the heavy-handed way he claimed me in front of Bodhi, I appreciate the sentiment behind it.

  “How did you know his real name?” I ask. “I didn’t even know it.”

  “Did some research,” he says, nonchalantly.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to know what kind of bastard could make such a strong woman so afraid of men.”

  “I’m not afraid of men.”

  “Okay, afraid of getting involved.”

  “That’s such a kettle thing for you to say.”

  “I don’t have issues getting involved.”

  “ You don’t get involved. You take women out for test drives.”

  “Any time you want that to change,” he draws out the words lazily, “you just let me know.”

  I’m not touching that comment. “If you’re done with the schedule, you can grab another box of books and start on the other side of the room. We can meet in the middle.”

  His grin warms into the authentic one I know and love. “I like the sound of that.”

  When he returns with the box and starts filling bags, he says, “So, Bodhi.”

  Yeah, I knew this was coming.

  “You’ve never really told me about your relationship,” he says. “He’s older than I expected.”

  “Daddy issues,” I say in all seriousness. “Remember?”

  “And you dated how long?”

  “He was my mentor and friend for three years, my lover for two.” Talking about it is hard. All the joy and pain come rushing back and tangle.

  “When did the cheating start?” he asks.

&
nbsp; “It was happening the whole time. I didn’t know it then, only found out at the end. God, that was awful.” Memories slide back, and Xavier’s patient silence allows me to get my thoughts together. “You know, honestly, those five years were good. Blissful, even. Of course, finding out about the other women ruined all my memories.”

  “Can’t think about one without thinking about the other,” he says.

  “Exactly. If I recall a successful retreat, I wonder if Bodhi was off fucking someone when I wasn’t looking. I ended up second-guessing all my friendships during that time because I found out later that he slept with women I considered friends. Even looking back at our vacations, I can’t help but wonder what he was doing when he wasn’t by my side.”

  “Shit,” he says, his voice expressing understanding and sympathy.

  “Yeah. It’s been a really hard year. Have you ever cheated on anyone? I won’t judge you if you have. I’m just…curious. I have a hard time imagining you dating the way you do without crossing that line.”

  He shakes his head. “When I graduated high school, my longtime girlfriend broke up with me to go away to college.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Since then, I’ve always kept things very clearly casual with women.”

  “Did she break your heart?”

  “Sure, you know, for a while. But things tend to look different when you’ve got some life experience behind you.”

  “So true.” I pause before picking up another book and meet Xavier’s gaze deliberately. “You really mean a lot to me. I know we’re always kidding, but, seriously, you’ve been such a solid, consistent friend. It’s helped me learn to trust again, you know?”

  His smile is soft, and this feels so much like the moment earlier in the day when we stared at each other through the glass at a distance. There’s a yearning between us. There’s also a certain level of trust, friendship, maybe even infatuation. But I’m no more ready for more now than I was earlier today.

  I pull in a deep breath. “We need to put a few ground rules in place.”

  His brows shoot up, and he laughs, instantly restoring our friendship equilibrium. “Do we, now?”

  “Yes.”