High Octane

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Which is what?” he said, finally speaking.

  Which was what? She didn’t know and that terrified her almost as much as he did. She didn’t know. Flustered, Sabrina pushed to her feet. “I’ll call. Later. But we should go.”

  They barely spoke on the short walk to the car-rental place, and Sabrina didn’t know how to reach out to Ryan. He was like a stranger, shut off and quiet. Her chest began to feel heavy, a flutter of fear inside her. She’d upset him. She had to fix it. By the time they were in the rental car, though, she wasn’t sure what to say and he wasn’t talking either.

  A few minutes later, and only a couple of blocks, she pulled the rental car into the office garage where Ryan had left his truck. “Ryan—”

  He popped the door open. “Ask me what I want.”

  “What?”

  “Ask me what I want, Sabrina.”

  That fluttery horrible feeling expanded, darn near stole her voice, but somehow she did as he requested. “What do you want, Ryan?”

  “You,” he said. “That’s my answer, without any question or hesitation. But it wasn’t your answer. You didn’t know how to answer. Like I said, I’m good at playing the temporary game, Sabrina, and one of the biggest rules is to walk away if your emotions get involved. So I’m walking away. If you ever figure out what you want, give me a call.” He got out and shut the door.

  She had sat there for several stunned moments, here yes burning, when her cell phone rang. Her heart skipped a beat as she scrambled for it, hoping it was Ryan. Without checking caller ID, she answered.

  “Where are you?” a male voice asked. It was Frank.

  She swallowed against the knot in her throat. “In the parking lot.”

  “I’ll be waiting for you in your office.” He hung up.

  For an instant, she contemplated driving away. She wasn’t up to dealing with Frank. Somehow, she pulled herself together and went upstairs.

  As promised, Frank was at her door. He eased back to let her inside. Sabrina set her purse on the desk and pressed her fingers to the steel surface.

  All week, he’d pressured her on the mayor’s meeting with the wife, and she’d stalled. Given him updates that lead nowhere on purpose, hoping the story would die. But she had to stop playing this game. She had to stop letting everyone push her around.

  “We need to talk,” came Frank’s gruff comment from the doorway.

  She shoved the file on her desk to the edge. “You’re right. We do. There’s your file on the mayor. I’m done. I can do this kind of story in New York.”

  “I understand you’re upset about being exposed, Sabrina,” he said. “But the damage is done, and wasn’t it inevitable? Take some time to calm down and then let’s talk.”

  “Exposed?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

  Surprised flickered across his gruff features. “You haven’t seen the paper?”

  “What paper?” Her stomach fluttered with nerves all over again. “What’s going on?”

  He leaned out the door and yelled. “Kate! Bring me the Tribune.”

  In a matter of seconds that felt like hours, the paper appeared. Frank flung it on her desk. On the bottom right-hand corner of the front page it read, “With a play for the presidential candidacy expected, did U.S. Senator Jeffery Cameron force his daughter into hiding to silence her challenging rhetoric?”

  “‘Challenging rhetoric,’” she muttered in disgust.

  Sabrina sat down. Not only had she been found, but her reason for relocating was now all about her father. She was so tired of this kind of mess.

  What would Ryan think now?

  “I need to go, Frank,” she said, grabbing the paper and her purse.

  “What do you mean, go?”

  “I mean go,” she said. “Now.” He stepped aside.

  “As in quitting?”

  “I don’t know, Frank.” She passed him and then stopped. Turned back. “Yes. I quit.” Those words felt good. Liberating. She didn’t know what was next, but she knew she didn’t want to do what she was doing anymore. The paper had been the familiar. She’d clung to the past. And it was wrong.

  She knew now her future was Ryan. If it wasn’t too late.

  She headed down the hallway and Frank called after her, “What about the next installment of the Marco spread?”

  She raised her hand. “I’ll call you.”

  “Sabrina.” Kate, the receptionist, was holding up an envelope as Sabrina passed her desk. “This came for you, marked urgent.” It was a white envelope, letter-size, just like the others.

  “Thank you,” Sabrina said, her chest tight. She darted into the closest restroom and locked the door, then dropped against the wall, letting her purse fall to the floor. Inhaling and exhaling, willing her body to calm. Somehow fighting tears. She didn’t want to cry in public.

  When finally she could breathe, Sabrina opened the envelope, her hand shaking. There were no pictures. Just a letter.

  I knew who you were the day I saw you at the mayor’s press conference, but I had to be sure. That’s why I took your purse. To check your ID before I approached you. I intended to return it while you were on the dance floor, of course, but you came back too soon. But either way, I confirmed you were the Sabrina Cameron from New York that I’d read and followed, the Sabrina Cameron who was a champion for the people. Not afraid to go places others wouldn’t dare tread. I knew you would help me. I knew you would prove that my husband was innocent. But you didn’t help. You were too worried about hiding. You’ve changed and it saddens me. Well, now you’re exposed. You made me tell your secret. My husband was undercover and the mayor was involved. He can clear my husband’s name but he refuses. Now, it’s in your hands. Give my kids back their hero. He deserves nothing less than a hero’s remembrance.

  Sabrina looked for a phone number and found nothing. She had no way to reach this woman. And she had tried to help her, she wanted to help her. She should have been faster, dug harder. Involved her father. This was a mess and she felt to blame. Guilt had her back to not breathing, darn near hyperventilating. Suddenly, she felt as if the room was closing in on her. Sabrina yanked open the door and strode to the elevator.

  Jennifer was getting off the elevator as Sabrina got on.

  “Oh, Sabrina. I saw the paper, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

  Somehow, Sabrina kept a calm facade. “Can you follow me to my car?”

  “Sure.”

  Thankfully, Jennifer didn’t say a word until they were inside the car, as if she knew Sabrina was hanging by a thread. The minute they were inside, though, with the doors shut, the tears came. Jennifer hugged her, a real friend. Something she hadn’t ever felt she had. It made her cry more because she knew she’d clung to the past.

  Sabrina spilled everything to Jennifer, about Ryan, the letters, everything, but mostly, about Ryan. “So when he asked me what I wanted, I just… I froze. It wasn’t that I didn’t know I wanted him. I was on the spot. We had been talking about my parents and they’d upset me. I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t want to feel what they make me feel.”

  “Did you tell Ryan that?”

  “In the wrong way,” Sabrina said. “Really wrong way.”

  “So tell him again. Tell him you want him.”

  “He isn’t going to believe me,” she said, swiping at the wetness on her cheeks. She dug a tissue out of her purse. “He won’t. Because I didn’t say I wanted him first. And now it does look like I want back in politics with that story in the paper today.”

  Jennifer brushed hair from Sabrina’s eyes where it clung to the dampness. “I was afraid for you when you were getting involved with Ryan, because I thought he wasn’t capable of falling in love. But I saw him at that bar the night you were in trouble, hovering over you, all puffed up like a protective bull, and I knew I was wrong.”

  Sabrina blinked through the tears. “You think Ryan is in love with me?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t
dare hope right now,” she said. “Not after what just happened between us.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” she said. “Tell him you love him. Because we both know you do.”

  She did but she was scared. “He won’t believe me.”

  Jennifer’s eyes twinkled. “I have a plan.”

  Sabrina wiped away her tears. “But look where your last plan got me.”

  Jennifer grinned. “Exactly,” she said. “Now I have to get to work but that doesn’t mean my plan isn’t in action.” She darted from the car and Sabrina watched her rush toward the elevator. Her friend had filled her with hope. Hope that she could sort this out. Hope that she could make things right with Ryan. Which meant firmly exiting the past. She pulled out her phone and dialed her parents. When she went to Ryan, she was going to be able to tell him that she knew what she wanted. And so did everyone else.

  19

  RYAN SPENT THE DAY trying not to think about his fight with Sabrina, and failed miserably. By sunset, feeling fouler than a horse with a thorn under its saddle, Ryan concluded a long afternoon in the Hotzone’s warehouse, inspecting equipment for the next day. He tossed the final packed chute against a wall with a hard thrust of energy, expelling frustration. Yep. He was just plain foul. In fact, he’d wager to say he downright put the F in foul.

  He hadn’t seen or heard squat from Sabrina, which said everything. He’d taken a risk. He’d put himself out there. At least he could say he gave Sabrina everything he had.

  Ryan made his way over to the main office, where Bobby jogged toward him. “Hey, man. Jennifer has some emergency at the clinic, and her staff is already gone. I’ve got a somebody already dressed to drop at sunset that I need you to take.”

  “What about Caleb?”

  “He’s got a group of class-B jumpers,” he said. “There’s no one who can take this one tandem.”

  Ryan scrubbed his jaw. “Yeah, okay. I’ll take the jump. I need to make a quick phone call and I’ll be there.” The truth was, Ryan had hated the idea of going to that damn hotel again, so he’d called the Realtor for late showings, determined to buy something tonight.

  “Great,” Bobby said, clamping a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Head to the training room when you’re ready. She’ll be waiting there. She wants to learn to jump on her own next time, so we let her sit in on the videos.” He took off running.

  Ryan cancelled his meeting with the Realtor, and sauntered into the training room of the main building to find it empty. Caleb shoved through the back door.

  Ryan held out his hands. “Where’s the tandem jumper?”

  “In the plane,” Caleb said, rushing past him. “I have to make a call.”

  “In the plane? What’s going on, Caleb? You don’t leave a tandem alone in the plane.” But the other Ace was gone.

  Ryan grabbed a chute and the necessary equipment, and headed to the hangar. Well, whoever this jumper was, she’d be getting out of the plane and interviewing with him first. He didn’t jump with anyone he thought might freak out in the air.

  He entered Hangar One and approached the plane. Joe Cantu, an ex-Army pilot, gave him a salute from behind the controls. Ryan returned the salute and then stepped to the side of the plane. The wind breezed through the hangar door, the scent of honeysuckle blasting him into a dead stop. He inhaled the scent, so familiar, so Sabrina. Then he ground his teeth and silently cursed himself for being such a lovesick puppy over a woman who obviously didn’t care about him.

  He moved to the edge of the plane and found a petite female inside, facing the wall, her hair tucked into a flight suit, her straps already in place. Customers didn’t wear flight suits. That struck him as odd about a moment before a strange, familiar sensation prickled. The scent of honeysuckle once again teased his nostrils, making him abnormally impatient to get his job done for the day. He usually loved jumping.

  “Ma’am,” he said, climbing into the plane. She was hunched slightly forward, clinging to the side guards. Great. She must be sick. This was going to be quick. They weren’t jumping. At least there was a bright spot. “Ma’am. Are you okay?”

  The engine started, and Ryan cut his gaze to the front. “What the heck are you doing, Joe? No go! Turn off the plane.”

  It moved forward. “Joe!” Still it moved. Ryan jerked the door closed, shutting out the force of wind and the noise.

  “Ma’am. Are you okay?”

  She waved a hand. Enough to let him know she didn’t need immediate medical attention, and Ryan headed to the cockpit. They were starting to taxi. “What the hell, Joe?” he demanded, bringing the pilot into view.

  “Doing as ordered, boss,” he yelled. “Go to the back and enjoy the ride.”

  Ryan froze, his eyes locked on the front window as they began to lift off. What was going on? And why did he still smell honeysuckle?

  He whirled around to the main cabin, and there she was. Sabrina stood there, facing him, her long hair now free around her shoulders, a silky halo that framed her face.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She moved forward. “Jumping with you.”

  “No,” he said, going to her, settling his hands on her waist. “No, you aren’t jumping.”

  She kissed him. Pressed her lips to his. Ryan tried to resist. No, he didn’t. The minute her tongue touched his, he took what she offered and more. He’d thought he could walk away from her, never kiss her again, never feel the delicate, hungry stroke of her tongue against his. And maybe he could, maybe she’d make him, but it would be torture.

  A buzzer sounded, the alert telling them they were at jump altitude. Sabrina pulled back. “I want to jump with you. I need to jump with you.”

  “No,” he insisted, noting the way her bottom lip was quivering. “You’re terrified.”

  “I’m with you,” she said. “I know I’ll be okay. And Bobby showed me everything. I know what to do.”

  He stared at her, not sure what she was trying to prove. Suddenly angry at the idea that she thought a stunt like jumping out of a plane really solved anything. Or maybe it did. He was helping her find herself. Wasn’t that his job?

  He set her back from him and called for Joe to circle one more time. Then went to his knee in front of her, his hands on her knees. “This changes nothing,” he said, watching her, his hand sliding up her legs, checking her straps, then ruthlessly brushing the delicate V of her body.

  Her lashes fluttered, and he watched the delicate curves of her throat move, but still her chin firmed, stubbornness brimming from her eyes. “You aren’t talking me out of this.”

  He set his jaw and stood, readying their gear, until he stood behind her and pulled her flush against his body, against his hips and the ridge of his cock.

  She might have gasped, he didn’t know. But her fingers wrapped around his clothing as if she were hanging on for dear life. Instantly, he softened, leaning forward, his lips near her ear. “You’re all right. You’ll be okay with me.” His hands slid down her arms. “Try and relax.”

  She reached over her shoulder and touched his face. “I trust you.”

  He felt those words deep inside, inhaled them like he would the air. Jumping out of this plane was huge for Sabrina. In his anger, he’d forgotten just how much so. The buzzer rang again and she tensed. “It’s only scary for a few seconds,” he promised, and because it was better that she didn’t have time to think, he shoved the door open. Wind gusted in at them, Ryan did a quick inspection outside the doorway, and then they tumbled forward.

  Her body was stiff, but in a matter of thirty-five seconds, they were under canopy and he knew that the fear would fade. He lifted her arms to the side with his. But she was shaking, not calming down at all. He kept his arms over hers, touching her, something he’d never do with someone else. Tried to point out the lights, the stars, the moon, and finally she relaxed.

  Ryan guided them toward a controlled landing in a field, tensed for impact, anticipating confrontation with Sabrina. He wanted th
is woman, wanted her in a bad way. And he knew how hard it must have been for her to find the courage to jump. There was an obvious message here—she was trying to reach out to him.

  But was she willing to give as much as he was—was she willing to give everything? Tension coiled inside him. Fear—unfamiliar, intense. Fear that she was using this jump to tear down his anger, as she’d used excuses to hide from her past. This was a stunt that could have turned deadly.

  The landing was smooth, easy, the moon high, the nearby property lights casting them in a visible glow. But there was nothing smooth or easy about what was boiling inside him.

  Immediately, Ryan unhooked Sabrina and then cut the canopy, every muscle in his body coiling like the tension in his gut. She crawled forward and pulled off her safety glasses. Jaw set, in pursuit, Ryan followed on hands and knees, catching up with her and turning her over, framing her body with his. His emotions were high. His adrenaline pumping. “What kind of stunt was this, Sabrina?”

  She held her chest. “I can’t breathe,” she heaved. “I can’t.” She grabbed his arms. “I love you, Ryan.”

  Stunned, Ryan froze, the air lodged in his lungs. “What did you say?”

  “Can’t. Breathe. Ryan.”

  He shook off her words, focused on helping her. “You’re hyperventilating,” he said, noting her wheezing, her panic. Acting quickly, Ryan sat up and pulled her into his arms. “You’re okay.” He gently stroked her hair and rocked her. She was pale, her lips trembling. “You’re safe. I promise.” Rocking with her, he continued to whisper soothing words and slowly her body relaxed. All the while he replayed in his head what she’d said to him. I love you.

  “Ryan,” she whispered, her hand on his chest, turning toward him.

  That small sign she’d recovered was all he’d been waiting for. “I love you, too,” he said, cradling her face, brushing her lips with his. “More than you can imagine.”