by Nina Lane
I passed the ruins and headed in the direction of the canyon, pushing aside branches and prickly bushes. My flip-flops slipped on the loose rocks. I reached the tree line and peered toward the canyon. High cliffs extended over the river, the striated rocks tumbling into the water. Waterfalls spilled down the opposite side into a wide pool sparkling with sunlight.
And there…
God in heaven.
Cole was climbing up the embankment to a large, flat boulder jutting at least twenty feet above the water. Wearing only a pair of swimming trunks, he took my breath away—his muscles flexing and straining, his wet hair darkened to copper, his naked, golden-brown tanned skin glistening with water droplets.
I grabbed a nearby tree trunk. My heart hammered. This was a stupid idea. Vanessa knew a hell of a lot more about men than I did, but…really? I was stalking him, invading his privacy.
He looked up, his eyes narrowing on the trees as if he sensed me. Our gazes crashed together like metal striking stone. The air sparked. Tension coiled in my belly.
No chance of hiding now.
I crept out from behind a tree and gave him a tentative wave and a smile, as if I’d just happened upon him while hiking through the forest.
“Hi there,” I called.
He grabbed a handhold on a boulder and hauled himself up to the cliff’s plateau. The sun beamed down on him like he was the Chosen One, glittering off his bronzed skin and caressing his well-defined muscles.
In all my art history studies, I’d never seen a sculpture that rivaled Cole Danforth’s half-naked beauty. Everything inside me responded to him, tightening and pulsing.
Irritation creased his forehead. “What are you doing here?”
“Just passing by,” I replied cheerily. “Um, I guess I’ll be going now.”
“Josie.” His voice deepened into a reprimand that sent an unexpected tingle down my spine.
“Okay.” With a sigh, I edged my way uneasily down the rocky incline to the boulder. “When you told me about finding a swimming hole near some ruins, I figured out what you meant. My family has a cabin not far from here, so I wanted to see what you were talking about.”
He planted his hands on his hips and looked past my shoulder. “Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t be.” A frown tugged at his mouth. “It’s not safe for you to hike through the canyon alone.”
“Well, you’re here,” I pointed out.
His eyes darkened. “That might put you in more danger.”
My heart crashed against my ribs. I would have very much liked to be in danger with Cole Danforth, though not the kind he was talking about.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said. “I never have been, no matter what people have said about you.”
He studied me implacably for a second before turning away. “Go home, Josie.”
“This is a really beautiful place.” I cast a glance to the cliffs on the opposite side of the canyon, where the rock face was a nearly vertical drop to the river. “How often do you come here?”
“Whenever I can.”
“It’s not safe for you to be here alone either.”
“Alone is the only place I’ve ever been safe.”
Startled, I turned to stare at him. Consternation tightened his features. I had the sudden sense that whatever I said next would be a turning point for us—either he would come closer or retreat. Maybe for good this time.
Anxiety lit in my veins.
“In 1596,” I said. “Gerardus Mercator invented some sort of mapping technique that greatly improved sea voyage navigation.”
Cole blinked.
“And in the 1950s, oceanographer Marie Tharp drew the first detailed map of the North Atlantic Ocean floor,” I continued, keeping my gaze nervously on him. “The great white shark has to breathe with some kind of technique that I forgot the name of, but he’ll die from lack of oxygen if he stops moving.”
Silence. The sun continued to shine on him, drying the last drops of water clinging to his smooth shoulders. In the bright light, his eyes were astonishingly blue, flecked with gold like little flames.
A strange feeling settled in my heart—a kind of growing and shrinking at the same time, like I was blowing up a balloon and had to keep stopping to take a breath.
“Obligate ram ventilation,” he said. “I told you that.”
I nodded. Whenever we’d crossed paths in the woods as kids, I’d fallen into step beside him as if it were a given that we’d walk to or from school together. We’d never stayed together for long, usually because he hurried on ahead or diverted toward downtown, but every so often we’d had a conversation long enough for him to divulge some bit of trivia that my young mind had stored away like a chipmunk hoarding precious acorns.
“I remembered everything you told me.” Deciding it was now or never, I took my courage in both hands. I hadn’t followed him to the top of a cliff to back off now.
“I always felt a bit different from the other kids,” I explained. “Especially compared to my sister. She was so smart and pretty, and she had this big circle of friends and admirers…she fit, you know? I was fine with being her weird little sister…I still am…but I was still often off by myself, drawing or rescuing birds and squirrels.
“So when I first met you, I was fascinated because you were also different, but you didn’t seem to care. You knew all these obscure little facts. You didn’t mind hanging out with a girl three years younger. You liked being in the woods as much as I did. You didn’t try and act like someone you weren’t, not even with teachers and other students. You were just…you. And I admired you so much.”
He didn’t move. Tension laced his shoulders. His blue-sea eyes didn’t leave mine.
I swallowed hard. Will he come closer or…?
He took a step toward me. Then a couple more until he was standing in front of me. My vision filled with the sun-soaked, bronzed reality of Cole Danforth so close I could see the ring of indigo surrounding his irises and the pulse beating at the hollow of his throat.
“When I found this place,” he said slowly, “I was running away from home because my father is a vindictive bastard and a liar.”
I’d never heard him mention his father. A strange mixture of outrage and hope twisted through me.
“Why?” I whispered.
“He was abusive…physically violent and threatening, but even worse, he was a manipulator. A gaslighter.” His tone roughened with anger. “After twenty years of marriage, he had my mother convinced she was crazy. She wasn’t. But he had her go on medication and kept fucking with her head enough that she thought she was. It was the reason she wouldn’t leave, not even when I begged her. She’d tell me my father was a good man, that he only wanted what was best for us. Sometimes I thought she actually believed it.”
I couldn’t speak past the constriction in my throat. I sensed this unfolding of Cole’s secrets would change everything between us.
“I ran away a few times, but I always went back because I didn’t want to leave her alone with him.” Pain darkened his eyes. “I thought if I was there, I could protect her. Sometimes I did…if he was hitting me, he wasn’t hitting her. When I was a junior in high school, he blamed her for a failed investment he’d wanted to open a new brewpub. He accused her of screwing it up, said she was sleeping with the investor…all this shit that made no sense. Of course, she denied it, he kept pushing…then finally she wondered if it was her fault. He told her she needed professional help. She didn’t want to go to an institution, so he went to court and had her committed. She was there for seven months. The first week she was home, she killed herself.”
“Oh, Cole.” I pressed my hands to my face. A tangled mess of anger and sorrow flooded my chest. I recalled hearing that he had been the one to find his mother’s body when he’d gotten home from school. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sometimes I even wished she really was crazy.” He stepped away, flexing his hands. “At least t
hen he couldn’t have fucked with her so much. I might have been able to protect her too.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You have to know that.”
He shrugged, his jaw tightening. “Maybe it was. I should have done more to alert the authorities about what a fucking asshole he is.”
“Did you try?”
“Yeah. But he has the whole town conned. The district court judge and police chief are two of his closest buddies. He has everyone believing he has a share in a royal Bavarian brewing company dating to the seventeenth century. Hell, every Christmas he still sends the whole police department packages of all his goddamned craft brews. He knows how to work them. So the police, the teachers, whoever…they took his side.”
He flexed his hands again. “It’s why I’ve always hated it here. All that bullshit about what a great guy Kevin Danforth is. Poor man, stuck with a crazy wife and a loser kid who did nothing but cause problems for him. When I tried to tell them the truth, they didn’t believe me.”
“I believe you.”
Sudden tension rolled through him. He tracked his gaze over my face, his forehead creased.
“You were…” His throat worked with a swallow. “You were like this little woodland elf I saw every now and then. You always seemed happy, you know? With your red backpack and ponytail. I was kind of bummed when I started high school and had to take a different route. I missed running into you.”
A bubble lifted beneath my heart, shiny and translucent. “It was the same for me, except you were more like a mysterious enigma than an elf.” I frowned slightly. “I’m not sure I love the elf comparison anyway, but whatever. I liked seeing you too. And I really like seeing you again now.”
The cloud dimming his eyes lifted a little. Not entirely, but as if the storm was starting to break.
He moved closer. My breath stuck in the middle of my throat. Despite his dark history, he glittered with light and heat. This beautiful boy with gold-streaked hair and ocean eyes belonged in the woods, the water, anywhere he could drink in the sun-filled air.
He lifted a hand to the side of my face, cupping my cheek like a cradle. My heart grew wings, fluttering with nervous, wild abandon. He tilted my chin up and brought his mouth down on mine.
And, oh, if the forest itself didn’t dance and whirl around us. His kiss was gentle, almost hesitating, his lips moving with near caution over mine before he brought his hand to the other side of my face.
I parted my lips. Our tongues met with a spark that shot clear down to my toes. The taste of him—fresh water and peppermint—filled my blood with warmth. I eased closer still, nudging my breasts against his chest. Arousal began a low, throbbing pulse in my core.
The waterfalls applauded. The birds chirped their approval. The squirrels frolicked. The wind rustled music through the trees.
If this wasn’t falling in love, then I never wanted to know what was. Surely nothing in the universe, no matter how rich or complex, could be better than this feeling of pure, total joy and hope.
Cole lifted his head. Tender warmth softened his eyes. The clouds were gone, leaving nothing but bright blue.
“When I was eleven, if you’d told me that years later, I’d be kissing the all-grown-up little girl in the Scooby-Doo T-shirt, I’d have thought you were joking.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.” I tapped his nose, easing away from him to glance at the canyon. “How long were you planning to stay here?”
“Couple hours. I have to work tonight.” He moved to the cliff’s edge and peered down at the river. “Do you want to swim?”
“I didn’t bring a suit.” My stomach tensed. He was less than a foot away from the drop. “Uh, what are you doing?”
“This is a great place to jump.”
Oh hell no.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I hurried toward him as far as I dared, stopping a good ten feet from the cliff’s edge. “That is so dangerous.”
“I’ve done it a bunch of times. It’s plenty deep, and the ledge is far enough out that the rocks aren’t a danger.” He turned, his eyes twinkling, and extended his hand. “Come on, Josie. I seem to recall you’re pretty impulsive.”
I flushed at the reminder of how I’d kissed him. “Not about this. Remember I don’t like heights? I can’t even go on the Ferris wheel.”
“This isn’t the Ferris wheel.”
“No, it’s a twenty-foot drop to certain death.”
“It’s an exhilarating, twenty-foot leap into a very deep pool of cold, refreshing river water.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“If birds are your favorite animal, you should like to fly.”
“That’s not flying. It’s falling.”
“If the landing is safe, falling can be fun too.”
Like falling in love.
What if I landed right in Cole Danforth’s arms? His heart?
I took a breath. Time stretched. His big, strong hand was still extended toward me. Now it was my turn to decide whether to move closer or retreat.
Squashing a wave of outright fear, I slipped out of my flip-flops and unbuttoned my jeans shorts. Cole’s gaze tracked my movements as I pulled them off and tugged my T-shirt down over my panties.
I took a few steps closer and slipped my hand into his. Thick calluses roughened his palm.
“Don’t let go,” I said.
“I won’t.”
I tightened my grip on his hand. My knees shook. A thousand fears raced through my head. I’d hit a rock, we’d get pulled under, we’d miss the water entirely, we’d get sucked into an underwater cave…
Or we’d fly.
We inched toward the edge. My heart almost pounded out of my chest. We stopped when our toes poked just over the rocks.
Our eyes met.
“Count of three?” he asked.
I nodded.
“One two…three!”
We leapt off the cliff. For an instant, I was suspended in midair with Cole beside me. A scream lodged in my chest. We fell, tumbling through air, sunshine, mist, until we hit the water in a vortex of icy cold waves.
He didn’t let go. Not when we leapt. Not when we fell. Not when the river submerged us, pulling us downward. He tugged my hand and kicked to the surface, a much stronger swimmer than I was. We broke through with exhilarated gasps and laughter, water pearling on our skin.
“Good job, Josie Bird.”
He grinned, quick as a flash. My breath caught. I’d rarely seen him smile, much less display a wide, striking grin that creased his eyes at the corners and made a dimple pop into his left cheek.
In that instant, my heart knew the truth. If Cole Danforth would rescue me from mean boys, tell me his secrets, and hold my hand through a jump from a twenty-foot cliff, then nothing could ever force him to let go.
Nothing.
Chapter 4
Josie
* * *
An hour later, Cole and I stretched out on the rocks, toasting in the sun. A warm, languid sensation spread through my veins. The heat had dried my T-shirt and underwear within a few minutes. I turned to face him, tucking my hands under my head.
“Why Marine Sciences?” I asked.
“My grandfather was a marine biologist.” He rose to a sitting position and reached for his backpack. “My mother’s father. He was a professor at Columbia. Did a lot of work on the physics and biology of oceans. He gave me my first books about marine life. He died when I was seven, but I was fascinated by his stories and knowledge. Guess it stayed with me.”
“Do you have any other relatives?”
“My mother’s brother lives down in New York. He’s a good guy.” A shadow crossed his face. “Never saw much of him, though. My mother didn’t want to. I think she was scared he might find out about my father.”
He shook his head, as if to dislodge old memories. Not wanting him to go back into the darkness, I pointed to a little gray-and-brown bird hopping nearby.
“T
hat’s a boreal chickadee. They eat and store spruce seeds.”
“The black-capped chickadee is the Maine state bird.” He lifted his eyebrows at my surprised glance. “I know a thing or two.”
“That’s why I like you.”
His mouth curved into a smile. A warm current passed between us, settling in my lower body. Not even the cold river water had mitigated the heat simmering inside me, a direct result of everything about this moment. Cole’s muscular, tanned body so close to mine, the sun on my bare skin, the rub of my tight nipples against my bra and T-shirt…which I’d caught Cole glancing at more than once.
I let out my breath slowly. I’d fooled around with a few boys in the past, but I was still a virgin, a fact I was neither embarrassed about nor proud of. My mother had never put much importance on “virginity,” believing it contributed to social biases about female purity and commodification of women.
While I could appreciate her intellectual sentiments, my personal reason for still being a virgin was the simple fact that I’d never been so attracted to a boy that I wanted to have sex with him.
Until now.
Surreptitiously, I eyed the length of Cole’s strong legs, his hair-roughened thighs corded with muscle. He rested his hand on the rock beside him. What would his callused palm feel like sliding over my breasts, my nipples, my belly? What if he slipped his hand between my thighs, opening them up so he could delve his long fingers right into my—
A breeze tickled my nose. I sneezed. My little fantasy broke apart. Cole rummaged through his backpack and produced a thick, soft tissue that felt like velvet.
I wiped my nose, rubbing the tissue between my fingers. “What is this luxurious product?”
“No idea. I grabbed some tissues from a box at the boathouse.”
“It must have lotion. I never buy tissues with lotion, but I love them. They even have some with aloe and vitamin E. I bet this is one of those.”
He held out a wad of tissues. “You want the rest of them?”
“How sweet. Your first gift to me.”
“Ah, you forgot about the perfect pinecone.”
Puzzled, I tried to think. “What pinecone?”
