by Elise Faber
Luckily, the Bay Area had no shortage of beautiful places to visit.
And he was like a kid in the candy store, trying to visit each and every one of them.
He’d worked until the sky had just begun to lighten, putting the finishing touches on a website for an up-and-coming airline. Then he’d gotten into his car and driven north along the coast.
Over the Golden Gate, spending more time in traffic than he preferred, but once he’d made it away from the commuters, his journey up the winding highway had been quiet.
After parking along one edge of the road, his car tucked onto a narrow strip of gravel, he climbed out from behind the wheel, navigated the rickety wooden stairs that led down to the beach, and sat on a washed-up log to watch the sky grow bright, filtering in through the heavy fog, gilding the area in an almost-otherworldly glow.
He was just standing, ready to find his feet, to drive back to his apartment and sleep when his cell vibrated.
Retrieving it from his pocket, he saw that Heidi was calling him.
Not texting.
But actually calling him.
A call he was going to miss if he didn’t actually swipe his finger across the screen and answer it.
“Hello?” he said, getting his shit together and lifting it up to his ear.
“And they say an old dog doesn’t learn new tricks,” Heidi said on a laugh that sent heat trickling down his spine, his cock twitching in remembrance of what that laugh had felt like on his skin.
She’d gotten his note.
His lips curved up, happiness sliding through him. “You calling me a dog?”
Another laugh. “I most certainly am.”
“Well, this one has learned new tricks.”
“I see that.” She paused. “Thanks for last night.”
“You did the cooking.”
“And you brought the ice cream,” she said. “In my book, that’s more than half the battle.”
“So, the key to your heart is through ice cream.”
A husky chuckle that had him wishing all over again he’d stayed that night, that he’d left a note that first time, that he hadn’t been a fucking coward when he’d recognized this woman was someone he should be staying for.
“Not exactly,” she said. “The key to my heart is . . .” She trailed off, and he could see her smile in his mind. It would be tinged with a smirk, one corner of her mouth curved higher than the other, and her hazel eyes—the mix of gold and green—would be dancing with humor. “No,” she said. “I’m going to leave that for you to figure out.”
Every cell in his body froze, jumping to absolute, rigid attention.
Was she saying . . .
Was he getting another chance?
“Heidi—”
A sea gull cawed loudly over his head.
“Where are you?”
He waited for the bird to quiet before saying, “The beach.”
Silence. Then. “Of course, you are.”
“What does that mean?”
“Only that only you would be absconding to the beach on a Thursday morning when most people are commuting to work.” She laughed. “Are you ever not the wayward traveler?”
Yes.
When he was with her.
When he spent time with Heidi, he didn’t think about the ever-growing list of places he wanted to visit. And when he was with her, he certainly didn’t imagine traveling alone. He pictured her with him, going to all the cliché places, her hair flowing through the breeze as they walked along the canals of Venice, kissing her under the Eiffel Tower, holding her hand as they circled the upright rocks of Stonehenge. And more. He imagined her on a trek in South America, winding through colorful plateaus, on a hike through trees so tall it was nearly impossible to see the tops. He wondered if she’d go cave-diving with him, spelunking through tunnels in New Zealand, searching for glowworms. He’d bet he could convince her to visit a castle on the coast of Northern Ireland.
“Brad?”
He blinked, forced himself to focus on the conversation rather than the fantasies in his brain. “I’m here. And yes, there are times when I want to do nothing more than sleep in my own bed.”
“So, why do you travel so much?” she asked, her tone not unkind. Rather, it was laced with curiosity and softness.
Sighing, he stared out at the horizon, now bright with pops of pink and orange and deep blue peeking out through the fog. “I . . .” He stopped himself from giving her the same pat answer he always gave everyone—that he didn’t want to settle down, that there was so much world to explore, and he didn’t want to miss an inch of it.
All of that was true, of course.
But as he’d come to realize, there was also something more.
“I guess it’s just always been expected that I was the one who’d run wild.”
A beat of quiet. Then a soft question. “Why was it expected?”
The log was getting uncomfortable under his ass, but this woman was in his head and heart, and he knew he’d answer anything she asked. “Tammy was always the smart sibling, so it’s no surprise she’s spent most of her adult life in school. Though she has her second master’s in business administration now and is looking to take the corporate world by storm.”
“I met her at the wedding.” Heidi chuckled. “And I’m definitely not surprised to hear that in the least. I have no doubt she’ll succeed. What about Jaime and Penny?”
“Jaime has always been the caring one, so it’s no surprise he ended up as a vet. And Penny is the second oldest, even though she pretends otherwise.” He smiled. “Mostly because she’s made an art form out of ordering everyone around.”
“Doesn’t she run her own business?”
“Yup. One that just went public a couple of weeks ago and is killing it in its valuations.”
His siblings would probably be surprised to know that he’d followed each of their lives so closely. He knew they thought of him as being so wrapped up in his own life and his adventures that he didn’t have time for anyone else. But he’d always made it home for the important stuff—birthdays, weddings, Christmas, his parents’ anniversary. He loved his family, even more than he loved traveling. Which was why he followed his brother’s vet practice on Instagram, why he’d made it home for all three of Tammy’s college graduations, why he’d been there to watch Penny ring the bell on Wall Street when her company went public.
Traveling was his life’s blood.
But he only left because he knew he had something solid to come home to.
“And what about you?” Heidi asked. “Which one are you?”
That was the trouble, wasn’t it?
He didn’t really know.
“My mom always called me her little explorer,” he said. “From the time I was little, I was climbing trees and trying to run off in parking lots. We took a trip to London once when I was a kid, and she always says that was the one time I actually stayed by her side.” He laughed. “Because I was too busy looking around to wander off. I remember the trip, and it’s true. I thought it was amazing and so different from the little Midwest town we grew up in. Then I studied abroad my junior year in college and fed the travel bug that had bit me by traveling all over Europe.”
“And you haven’t stopped?”
“No,” he said. “I haven’t stopped. I work for two things—well, three things, I suppose. One, retirement. Two, to eat. Three, to travel.”
“So, why did you move out here? It’s got to be more expensive keeping an apartment in the Bay Area than where you used to live.”
That was true.
“When my parents followed Tammy and Jaime out here, I figured it was better to have a place close to everyone.” Even though Penny was still in the Midwest, she was thinking of moving to this coast, since increasingly more of her business was keeping her in San Francisco.
It was a Huntington invasion.
“That’s sweet.”
He shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. �
�It just made sense. What about you?” he added. “How long have you been in California?”
“Born and raised.” A chuckle. “East Bay all the way.”
“And you haven’t gone far.”
“Nope. Just away to college and then right back here.” She laughed. “Hang on a second.” There was a blip of noise, almost sounding like she’d rolled her window down, and then he heard her say, “Thanks.” He waited another moment, and then her voice was back on the line. “Sorry about that.”
“Where are you?”
“Driving into work. I had to show my credentials,” she said, tone amused. “As my assistant would say, so I don’t put the top-secret shit at risk.”
“Top-secret? Wow, color me impressed.”
She snorted. “It’s a lot less exciting than it sounds. Trust me. I’m just a nerd with lots of computers, running lots of models, who spends her days in muffin-crumb-covered T-shirts and chugs coffee like it’s my life’s blood.”
“What’s your favorite type of muffin?”
“Banana chocolate chip. From Molly’s.” She waited a beat. “What’s yours?”
“I don’t know, cinnamon and sugar?” He waited a beat. “What’s Molly’s?”
“What’s Molly’s?” She gasped. “Only the best bakery in all of the Bay Area. And as a connoisseur of all things baked goods, that’s saying something.”
“I guess I’ll have to check out this Molly’s.”
“Not without me,” Heidi said. “It’s sacrilege to go by yourself the first time. You need help navigating the deliciousness.”
“Deliciousness?” He couldn’t help but tease. “Is that even a word?”
“Don’t know,” she said, her voice going slightly muffled. “Don’t care. Unless that caring gets me to Molly’s.”
“Is this you asking me on a date?”
“Again,” she said. “Don’t care, so long as it gets me to Molly’s sooner.”
He laughed outright. “You’ll take me to Molly’s as soon as possible.”
“Sold.” A beat. “You coming over tonight?”
His heart squeezed tight, excitement trickling through him. She was asking him over. She’d called him. This was big. This was him making his way back into her good graces. This was him getting his second chance. “Do you want me to come over?”
“I . . . well . . .” Now there was hesitation in her words. Shit. He should have just said yes.
“Heidi—”
Voices in the background.
“I’ve got to go.” He heard a rustling, as though she’d lifted the phone from her ear.
“Heidi,” he said quickly, pulse pounding in his veins.
The rustling stopped. “Yeah?”
“I’ll bring pizza.”
Silence. Long, interminable silence.
Then a soft sigh. “I’ll be home by six.”
Relief poured through him as they said goodbye and hung up. God, he was so not smooth, so not a player. He’d already fucked up the best thing he’d ever had with a woman once. Now he needed to be smart, to play this right.
Because Heidi was . . . everything.
Ten
Heidi
Normally, her work drew her in, made her lose all sense of time, forget every bit of her real life.
Normally, she was reduced to spreadsheets and calculations, the occasional coffee and muffin break. Oh, and her favorite kind of email exchange.
With her dad.
He wasn’t like her mom. He was nice, if more than a bit absentminded and wrapped up in whatever project he was currently working on. She remembered that distance used to hurt her feelings. But then he’d seemed to sense her loneliness, or maybe some part of him had finally registered what her mom’s sharp words had been doing, because one day he had brought her to his lab.
He hadn’t said a word to her mother.
Just packed her up one Saturday morning, loading her backpack with coloring materials, books, her favorite set of paper dolls—she’d had a thing for the American Girl dolls when she was young, okay?—and plenty of snacks, and they had disappeared into the world of science for a day.
She’d fallen out of love with paper dolls.
And into love with mass spectrometry.
Yup, the nerd gene ran deep.
Her mom had been furious—she’d missed some activity that Colleen had deemed very important for Heidi’s female education, never mind that she’d been all of seven at the time—but that hadn’t stopped her dad from taking her back every Saturday.
And sometimes on Sundays, too.
That time had kept her sane.
She still didn’t understand how her dad could be married to her mom—it wasn’t like she didn’t love her mom. She was her mom; of course Heidi loved her.
She just . . . didn’t like her.
But she loved her dad, and she kept in regular email contact with him, and because of him, she’d held on to her sanity during her childhood. Also, she supposed her mom wasn’t always completely awful. Occasionally Colleen said something nice, and it wasn’t like her entire childhood had been traumatic.
There had been good times.
They just . . . mostly involved her dad.
But regardless of the good or bad times, she loved that she could boot up her computer, get to work, and start the day with an email from her dad,
Remind me of the assay calculation for barrelene we talked about last time?
She loved that she could smile over lunch at the picture he’d sent of him posing in front of his new mass spectrometer.
And then feel her heart squeeze with happiness when he sent mid-afternoon,
I read your paper. It’s good, peanut. I’m proud of you.
Silly, huh?
Short little notes in her dad’s typical scattershot method. Some days they’d exchange two dozen emails, sometimes a week would go by without a word. But their virtual contact would always pick right back up as though they were in the middle of a conversation. It was never uncomfortable, never strained.
Just . . . connection.
And like it had been when she was a kid, that connection was over science. Luckily, she loved both her dad and the theoretical properties of barrelene, even if it was a long ways from the molecular physics she studied and used in her lab.
Signing off on her reply to the final email, an exchange that would normally energize her for several more hours, Heidi found her eyes going back to the clock.
Again.
Counting the minutes down until she could leave. Again.
Because despite the emails from her dad, for the first day ever, she hated her job.
Part of her kept repeating the conversation from that morning back to her, cringing at the desperate way she’d asked Brad to come over. Brad, who she wasn’t going to see as a love interest. Brad, who she wasn’t going to sleep with. Brad, who she was only going to be friends with.
And Brad . . . who she wanted to be so much more than that.
Sighing, she tapped a few keys across her keyboard, logged off her computer, and pushed back from her desk. “I’m out of here,” she told Stef.
“Everything okay?” her assistant asked.
“Fine. Just my brain is fried. I’m going to call it a day.”
Stef nodded, and they spent a couple of minutes discussing the day’s outstanding items. Fifteen minutes later, she was signing out of the lab and heading toward her car.
Then she was on her way home, ridiculously early.
But she honestly couldn’t hate the ridiculously early, not when it was smooth sailing through traffic, not when she took fifteen minutes upon arriving to her complex to bypass her condo and walk down her little trail. She stood in front of the little creek, trying to get the fist gripping her heart to relax—the same fist that was telling her to run from Brad, that she’d only get hurt again.
Because she had been hurt.
Deeply.
After one night.
Which was . . . too
much and ridiculous and something that shouldn’t have been possible. She’d slept with plenty of people, so Brad being a one-off shouldn’t have hurt.
Except, his leaving without a word had.
And now, she worried that she would be opening herself up for a world of that hurt if she let him back in, if she dove into things with him, like she so desperately wanted. They’d had all of one phone conversation. Had only spent a couple of hours together. He’d left a note. Not poetry. Not undying love. Not . . . what?
What was she looking for?
She had no freaking clue.
Aside from the fact that all of those things were combining to draw her more firmly down the rabbit hole that was Brad Huntington.
Could she risk being his friend without falling in deep?
Because he would inevitably leave, and he would leave her behind.
But . . . what if he wanted her to come along?
“This is pointless,” she muttered to the tiny babbling creek. “We slept together. We hung out a bit. That’s it. It’s not life-changing, even if it feels like it.”
And it did feel like it. She was addicted.
She wanted more.
But he was going to leave.
It was an inevitability.
“So, knowing that,” she whispered, “why can’t I just enjoy the process? Why can’t I just go in and have fun and soak in every bit of the experience?” She tossed a rock into the water. “Because, dumbass, you’ve been talking a big talk about wanting more, about wanting something more than just a quick fuck.” A sigh. “And you’ll never have that with Brad.”
“I don’t want a quick fuck.”
Heidi shrieked and spun around, losing her footing at the sound of the voice so very close to her ear. She slid down the embankment, dirt and leaves rolling over her, landing in a heap at the bottom, the all of three inches of water in the creek soaking into her jeans.
“Heidi!”
A second later, Brad was at her side, scooping her up, holding her tightly against him.
“I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head to clear it. “You can put me down.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he muttered, definitely not putting her down as he carried her up the slope, back onto solid ground.
