by Wood, Vivian
I’m not listening, though. I’m too busy drooling over the guy.
God, how long has it been since I’ve been with a strange man? Especially one that looks like he does?
Never. The answer is never.
Maybe he can be my first.
As the driver waves and pulls off, I can’t stop staring at the man on the side of the road. He looks so much like Grayson Sellwood, except he wears a scowl that Gray never sported. Gray was always sunny, his disposition happy no matter what.
This guy looks like he is the exact opposite, though of course I would be scowling too if I had just almost been run over.
Then we turn the corner. The man disappears from view.
My heart starts beating again, so loud and hard that it rushes through my ears. The driver goes around another turn and then pulls up in a gravel parking lot. Just beyond are a collection of rustic-looking wooden buildings, the largest of them labeled Campbell Mess Hall. In the distance, almost hidden amongst the trees, is a ropes course.
Swallowing thickly, I drag in a breath. The driver is already getting out of the car and unloading my suitcases. Taking a deep breath, I climb out of the dark SUV, running a hand over my white silk top and clingy blue skirt. Looking around at the campsite, at the way the trees form a canopy over most of the area, I’m a little awestruck.
God, it even smells different out here. Like pine trees and rain.
Grabbing my purse from the car, I tuck my phone inside it and walk toward the dining hall. Another familiar face comes loping out, his handsome face flickering from a smile into a look of puzzlement.
I cock my head to the side. “Aiden?”
He looks more than a little surprised, but he seems unable to place me. “Yeah…”
I raise my hand, bringing it up to cover my heart, which is clattering against my ribs. If Aiden is here, then Grayson may be here too. That angry looking man I just saw, the one my driver almost hit?
He didn’t just look like Grayson. He was Grayson.
What.
The.
Hell?
Chapter Four
Grayson
For a minute, as I trail the big black SUV on its way into camp, I feel as if I’ve lost the thread of reality. The feeling of a kind of deja vu floats around me, its hot fingers wrapping themselves about my neck.
I saw her.
Rachel Black.
I saw her, in that moment, staring through the windshield.
From several lifetimes ago, the past reached up and ensnared me, breathing its dust in my ear. The girl who was once mine, the only girl who has ever held my heart… that girl looked at me, her expression as startled as mine.
My heart stutters, threatening to stop.
God, what I wouldn’t give to get one little glimpse of her today. Just to know that she’s still alive.
And then it is over, the SUV moving on as if nothing happened. Leaving me shaking my head and wondering about my sanity. I’ve thought about Rachel endlessly for the past five years. Felt the empty space beside me acutely. Mourned the loss of her.
But this is the first time I have hallucinated her all the way out here in Washington. Blowing out a breath, I start walking around the bend in the road. I’m way off when I first spot her, walking slowly in the other direction.
It’s easy to see why my tired brain confused Rachel for her. She’s more dressed up than I remember, wearing towering high heels and a pink dress. But she also has that same mane of honey blonde hair, so long that it touches the top of her perfect peach shaped ass.
My heart thunders in my chest when she starts to turn around.
Fuck.
She doesn’t just look like Rachel.
With those features, those cheekbones and nose, those full lips, those perfectly arched brows and dusky brown eyes…
She is Rachel.
Rachel is here.
And she looks at me, her lips parting just so, like she’s unsure that I’m real. I take her in, coupled with her surroundings. Rachel just looks so damn good, even though she is out of place standing on the pine needle covered ground, under the shade of the tall canopy of trees.
Even though my heart plummets to my feet as I take her in, I still picture her the last time I was able to touch her.
I can’t help but see her as she was the last time we were together. Burrowed sleepily under my right arm, naked as sin in my bed.
She made sense there. Here though… she seems lost and out of place.
“Grayson?” she asks, her voice hesitant. Then a wave of anger sweeps across her face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I started moving towards her, drawn in like a moth to a flame. The hostility in her voice stops me in my tracks though. I turn immediately defensive, as if she is asking me to explain my existence.
I’ve spent the last five years barely surviving. The fact that she shows up here and demands anything from me is just unacceptable.
Pulling up to my full height, I move closer to her, scowling.
“Rachel,” I say, her name sounding stilted on my lips.
There is a wounded look in her dark eyes, a pain that I can’t even touch. Did I put it there?
Surely not.
As I open my mouth, without a plan for what I’m going to say, my boss Nate and Aiden walk between us. Nate is blithely unaware of the storm that is gathering. Aiden just looks between Rachel and I, seeming uncertain of what he ought to say.
“Grayson! There you are.” Nate scratches his graying beard. “I see you’ve met Rachel Black. Rachel is going to be interning with us this summer.”
No…
I glance from Rachel to Nate, the word on the tip of my tongue.
Nate just continues with the introductions, blithely unaware of the mounting hostility in the air.
“She’s going to need help mapping out and accessing every single water source we have here in the park.” Nate looks pleased with himself. “That’s where you come in. You don't want to lead tours this summer. I need a ranger to guide Ms. Black…” He raises both of his hands, interweaving his fingers and bridging them together. “It’s a perfect match.”
“No!” I growl.
Rachel looks at me like I am something she just stepped in. “Absolutely not.”
Nate looks confused and a little pissed off. “I’m sorry, is there something I need to know? Because otherwise, a summer intern and a park ranger with an attitude problem do not get a say in how I run my department.”
I fall silent. He’s right, of course, but…
Rachel and I glare at each other. In the lapse in conversation, Aiden clears his throat. “Rachel, why don't we get you settled in to one of the staff cabins?”
She glances at him, her cheeks heating. With one more look at me, she picks up one of her bags. “Sure.”
Aiden helps her grab her bags and they head toward the cabins, stonily silent.
“Grayson, I think we should talk,” Nate says, looking grave.
Shit. My muscles tense. I send one last glare at Rachel’s retreating back and rub my neck. “Okay.”
Nate looks pensive. “Why don't we head to toward the ropes course while we talk? I saw one of the ropes is a little frayed. I want to see if it needs replacing.”
He starts walking there and I am forced to follow him, my mind jammed full of thoughts. I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that Rachel is here.
Beautiful, wealthy, spoiled little rich girl Rachel has slammed her way into my life again, completely by accident. What kind of a world does that to me?
When I lost myself, lost my heart and my mind, I almost died. And I lost her too. Rachel’s big brown eyes and alluring smile, the way she looked so serious when she breathed the words I love you…
All of that is back in the smoking ruins of what used to be my life. Thinking about what I gave up that day, what was taken from me…
I swallow around a hard lump of emotion in my throat.
Nate walks up
to a low bridge made of ropes, leaning close to inspect it. “Give a hand here, would you?”
Moving to take one of the ropes, I frown down at Nate. He seems to be focused on the bridge, but I know him too well. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to help him while he told me what I was doing wrong. It’s constructive criticism, literally.
Pulling a switchblade off of his belt, Nate pulls at the one of the ropes. It is frayed a little, but because of the fabric Nate doesn’t just cut it and replace it. It’s a manmade material, probably nylon cord. So he can use his knife to cut the frayed bits and not have to worry too much about the rope losing its strength.
He edges his blade along the rope, skimming the first bit of frayed ends off.
“You know that we value you here,” he says, his gaze fixed on the rope. “Right?”
My chest tightens. “Yes.”
He looks up at me, then continues his work. “And you know that I took a chance on you. My superior didn’t want to hire someone with your… dubious record. But I put my foot down and you got a job.” He pauses. “At any other ranger station, you wouldn’t be given as much latitude as you are here.”
“Right now, I need two things and only two things. I need a ranger to lead the group tours and smile. And I need a ranger to take this woman up into the park to survey all the water systems. If I have someone that doesn’t want to do either of those things, I have a problem.”
It takes all of my energy not to make a face. I just stare down at the rope in my hands, scowling.
Nate skims another section. “Is your issue with her personal?”
His question takes me off guard. “Well… no.”
Yes, it absolutely is, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing something like that with Nate.
He glances up at me, narrowing his eyes. “Will it keep you from doing your duty? Because I’m telling you here and now that if you don't do this, you will be pulled from ranger status. Other people would be involved, a committee. We would have to do a serious, deep review of your case.”
I suck in a breath. That is the last thing I want, obviously. This job and the friends I’ve made here are basically the only things that I have.
“No sir,” I say, dropping my gaze back to the rope.
“She’ll only be here for a couple of months.”
My mouth opens in surprise. Rachel is awfully far from home. In fact, she’s in my home, and I feel like I’m being invaded.
If I were you, I would consider asking Ms. Black what I could do to make her stay more comfortable and her trip more successful.”
When I don't say anything to that, he clears his throat.
“Look at me.”
I look at him, his face concerned.
“Tell me that you will try, Grayson.”
“Yes sir.” The words slip from my mouth unheeded, but I mean them.
I will try, if trying is what is needed to keep my job. Being a park ranger is the only thing I can do without completely, totally fucking it up.
“Good man.”
Seemingly satisfied with the work he’s done on the rope, he sheathes his knife and drops the rope bridge back into place. I let go too, my mouth twisting up. As he walks by me, he claps my shoulder.
“See you in the dining hall for dinner.”
Nate strides off, no doubt ticking me off a to do list that’s a thousand items long. I pat the rope bridge, trying to figure out what I will do.
How do I even begin? Do I just tell Rachel I’m sorry?
Like that would ever be enough penance for what I’ve done.
With that on my mind, I head for my cabin.
Chapter Five
Rachel
Aiden doesn’t say anything to me until we get close to the cabins.
I’m keyed up. As if I’m not already anxious about my new surroundings, there is the one person I never expected to see, looking awfully at home here.
Though I feel a bewildering amount of different things, the predominant one is anger.
How dare Grayson be here?
And how will Aiden try to explain it away now?
Steaming silently, I follow Aiden as he shows me to the cabins.
I am careful where I step as we move into the midst of them, each one looking exactly the same. Brown roof, brown walls, light blue front door. Each of them is barely bigger than a closet would be back home.
I shiver, for the first time wondering if I made a mistake in coming here. After all, I imagine the pristine light colors in my living room and think…
I am not in Oz anymore, that’s for certain.
“We’re looking for number seven,” Aiden says. I eye him, carrying my bags as if they are weightless when I know for a fact that they aren’t.
I grimace. How in the hell did he and Grayson end up out here, of all places? My mind whirls, trying to figure that out.
I keep my thoughts to myself, hitching the suitcases I carry a little higher.
“Right here,” Aiden nods. He steps up to the door of the little cabin, looking positively giant standing beside it. He wrangles the doorknob, sweeping it open and stepping inside.
I could be back at home, I remind myself. I could be marrying Clay right now.
Swallowing my bitter thoughts, I follow Aiden inside the cabin. He sets down my luggage beside the front door, taking an audible breath. The inside is just as humble as the outside appears. There is a twin bed, a fresh pile of linens folded on top. There’s a dresser and a desk with a chair.
Over everything, there is a fine coat of dust. This place hasn’t been used in some time, it seems.
“So…” he says. “This is it.”
I set my bags down. “I see that.”
He slides me a glance. “Do you maybe want to talk about Grayson?”
I send him a withering glance. “Do I want to talk about the man that abandoned me five years ago? No Aiden, I don't. As far as I’m concerned, that man stopped existing back then.”
It’s a partial lie. I want to know the why of the whole thing desperately, but I am too flustered to even begin with my questions.
He wraps his muscular arms across his chest. “That’s more accurate than you know.”
I raise my brows. “Oh, is that right? Well that’s good because seeing the old Grayson after all this time would be… distasteful.”
Aiden rolls his eyes at me. “To my recollection, you weren’t this uptight in New York. When I met you, you were just a college student who was completely in love with Grayson.”
Drawing myself up to my full height, I look icily up at him. The disparity between his height and mine ruins the effect somewhat, but I refuse to be cowed.
“Are you done telling me about what I used to be like when I was in college?” I ask. “Because I’d like to get settled here. Alone.”
If I’m feeling dangerous, it’s only because Aiden has trapped me here. I suddenly feel put on the spot and I don’t like it one bit.
He rears back just a little. I can see that moment in Aiden’s eyes, the instant where he silently calls me a bitch. That split-second reevaluation where he wonders if he has got me all wrong.
I live for that moment. I don’t like being bitchy, but it is the only way that I can create distance. Distance from the needy little girl that I once was, a girl who was completely head over heels for Grayson.
I am not ever going back to being that person.
Never, ever again.
That person needed too much and trusted too deeply. I’ll never be so stupid and careless with my own heart again.
“Fine,” he says, looking annoyed. “Dinner is at six in the mess hall.”
With that, he turns around and leaves, slamming the door behind him. Good riddance. If I don’t want to talk to Grayson, the same goes for his best friend.
I look around, drawing a deep breath. Taking stock of the cabin and my luggage, I start to unpack my stuff. First things first, I have to dust every inch of this cabin. Then I can put things
away properly.
Stepping out of my heels, I hunt for a t-shirt in my bags. Then I dust everything off, even the inside of the drawers. The whole time I am nearly shaking with anger.
Grayson is alive. Good for him.
But now I have to interact with him. Worse, I’ll be forced into spending the entire summer with him. I just can’t conceive spending my summer camping out with him, sharing meals with him.
God, even worse. We’re supposed to go out and track each water source down, just the two of us.
But if I complain, my father will use that as a premise for clawing me back to New York. And I don’t know much about this world, but I do know that it’s not New York. It might be the opposite of there.
And that makes me feel safe. Although… with Grayson here, I don’t know how safe I ought to feel.
What am I going to do?
My phone buzzes. I ignore it.
Wracking my brain for a solution, I unpack most of my things.
I long for someone to talk to as I unpack, but… the closest thing I have to a friend back home is Sarah. And she works for my parents, so…
Yeah, I’m so not calling her.
The cabin doesn’t have a closet for hanging anything, which I suppose makes sense. There probably aren’t a lot of people who come through here with full outfits on hangers, ready to roll. From just a few seconds of exposure, it seems like more of a hiking boots kind of place than a high heels one.
My phone buzzes again, prompting me to turn it on silent. When I check the screen, I have two missed messages from Clay and three from my mother.
Clay makes my gut twist, but nothing is so unsettling as the fact that I know I am going to be okay. I should be hurt, I should be angry.
But all I feel about Clay is unsettled.
I’m saving all that anger for Grayson, I guess.
I check the time, frowning when I realize that the meal is only twenty minutes from now. I dig through my drawers for just the right outfit. A new pair of Columbia Sportswear hiking boots and socks, a flattering pair of olive shorts and an ivory tank from Patagonia, topped with a light pink rain jacket from the North Face.
