“Sometimes it takes two.” Again, the words tumbled out of her mouth, before her brain registered what she was going to say. Her blush heated up. Beside her, Ginny giggled suggestively, and Shelby swatted her hand at her, trying to shush her.
“Yes, it does. So, how about it?” he said, his mouth quirking ever so slightly into his signature barely-there smile.
Her face was blazing, and she wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, but the stubborn part of her wasn’t done.
“What about Celeste?” she asked, cringing. The question had seemed fine in her head, but now that it was out loud, it was a different story. He cocked his head to one side, his face crinkling thoughtfully.
“No?” He dragged the word out into a question. “I don’t think so.” His eyes narrowed a bit. “I think she would prefer to just attend the campfire rather than build it.”
Inexplicably, Shelby’s heart sped up just a little bit. She had been the only one he had asked. Before she could analyze the situation any further and figure out why it even mattered, or if it was something she should do, she said, “I’m in.”
She was here to experience things, not to sit out and pout.
“Excellent.”
“I’ll just put my tray away,” she said, scrambling to get up from the table and catching her foot on the bench. Ian grabbed hold of her arm as she lurched forward, steadying her.
“Whoa there, cowboy,” he chuckled. “There’s no hurry. Finish your dinner, and we’ll meet down at the Fire Pit in about twenty minutes.”
His firm grasp had stopped her from pitching onto her face, but it fell far short of steadying her emotions. Just that small bit of his body touching hers made her want to fling herself into his arms. Mortification was the only thing holding her back. Apparently, she was back to acting like a bumbling idiot.
“Okay, right. That makes sense. I’ll be ready. I’ll just eat my stew and then go to the Fire Pit. I won’t be late,” she babbled.
“See you in a bit,” he chuckled.
“Okay,” she mumbled, turning back to her stew to hide the fact that not only was her face on fire, but that she was grinning like an idiot. The day didn’t seem quite so bad anymore.
“That was smooth,” Ginny said, as Ian walked away, bringing Shelby out of her momentary daze.
“Huh?” Shelby paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth.
“What, are we still in high school?” Ginny asked, her eyebrows raised.
“It’s just a fire, Ginny.”
“Right, so why are you grinning like you’ve won the lottery?”
“I’m not grinning.”
“Sure, you’re not. And what was with the Celeste quiz?”
Shelby kept her gaze on her stew, not able to look at Ginny’s face in case her friend could read the jealousy in her eyes. It wasn’t something she could explain to herself. How could she explain it to Ginny?
“I just can’t handle another minute of watching her perfect body. That’s all.”
“So, it’s just her nauseating perfection and not the fact that Ian McLean has been fawning all over that perfection all day?”
“Jeez, Ginny, no.” Ginny’s questions were hitting just a little too close to home. “This is just about getting better at fire building, which is something I need.”
“Okay, it’s just that it wasn’t that long ago you were telling me that a man was not what you needed, not even short-term.” Ginny looked at her pointedly. “You might have been too drunk to remember, but you clearly told me that you needed to find Shelby before you found another man.” Ginny paused, letting her words settle in before she continued. “And it might be just me, but you did sound a little jealous right then, which is not a good sign. Plus, let’s not forget the ‘sometimes it takes two’.” Ginny parroted her in a sing-song voice, her eyes glistening with mirth.
“Oh God, I can’t believe I said that.” Shelby dropped her head into her hands.
“Oh, you said it all right, but maybe he was too blinded by your fluttering eye lashes to hear your blatant flirting.” Ginny’s playful teasing struck a chord, and Shelby straightened her back.
“I was just having fun like you’ve been telling me I need to do. Everybody flirts a little. It’s what men and women do. It’s just a fire,” Shelby said again. Maybe if she repeated it enough times it would become some kind of defence against the whirlwind of emotions that blew through her every time Ian was near.
Ginny winked. “I know. But I would be a bad friend, if I didn’t remind you of your drunken confessions. Plus, I’ve known Ian a really long time...”
Shelby looked hard at her friend, but Ginny was suddenly absorbed in her dinner, like she was unaware of the turmoil she had unleashed in her friend. What did Ginny mean by her warning? There was no doubt that it had been meant as a warning.
It was just a fire, wasn’t it?
CHAPTER 16
Exactly twenty minutes after he had left her, Ian heard Shelby approaching the Fire Pit. He rose from where he had been cleaning the ashes from the last fire and watched her move along the path with a tiny spring in her step. As she stepped into the clearing and a bit of moonlight fell across her face, he saw she was smiling.
He smiled to himself. It was nice to see her relaxing. It was a gorgeous night, and it was just a fire—nothing lives depended on.
He saw the exact second she caught sight of him. One moment her lips were smiling, and her eyes shone with anticipation, and the next moment, she was frowning, her eyes filled with doubt. He could almost see the anxiety and self-doubt wash over her. If he could just get his hands on Blake...
“Are you sure you want me to do this? I was the slowest one this morning,” she said.
He took a step towards her, thinking maybe if he was closer, he could give her some of his confidence. “You did it with a flint, Shelby, and that’s no easy thing with the damp wood you find around here. Everyone else used a lighter.” As he spoke, he pulled a lighter out of the side pocket of his pants and held it out for her. “You’re going to have no problem this time.”
A play of emotions washed across her face. He could see her wrestling with some kind of demon. She had the most expressive face of any woman he had ever met, and he would give anything to put the smile back on it.
She was the polar opposite of Celeste.
Shelby stood frozen for a moment, unsettled by Ian’s nearness and the raw reaction of her body to him. There was something intimate about the way he said her name, and it made her quiver inside. When she finally reached out to take the lighter, their hands touched briefly, and a shock rushed up her arm. She glanced up at him, trying to gauge whether he had felt it too, but his dark eyes were unreadable in the failing light.
“Are you sure?” she asked, his nearness overwhelming her, causing the words to come out quiet and soft, almost like a sigh.
Was she asking about the fire or the way he felt about her?
“I’m sure.”
Suddenly, she felt light-headed. He’s talking about the fire, she cautioned herself. She needed to get a grip on herself. She was a grown woman. There was no reason for her to be losing control of herself every time she was near Ian.
Taking a step back to put some physical space between them, she took a deep breath. Still unsteady, she glanced around the clearing, unsure of what to do next. This was the moment where Blake would have taken over, and she realized she was waiting for Ian to do just that. She could almost hear Blake whispering in her ear about why she was even bothering. They had the money to stay at fancy hotels; there was no need to get up close and personal with nature.
For some reason, tonight she couldn’t seem to silence his voice in her head.
“Just do the same steps as this morning,” Ian encouraged softly.
“Right, just like this morning.” She struggled to not be fooled by his supportive words. Any second now, he would tell her exactly how he wanted it done. She watched him for a moment, waiting for him to give her
some direction, but Ian just went back to cleaning out the ash. This was up to her.
Cautiously at first, but then with growing confidence, she worked to gather the wood and kindling. When Ian finished clearing the pit of ash, he settled on the ground with his back leaning against one of the logs encircling the pit. She could feel his eyes watching her, but instead of making her nervous, as his presence had done earlier in the day, she felt calm and steady.
His quiet presence soothed her nerves, just like it had at the café.
By the time she had finished prepping the base of her fire, twilight had set in and the shadows were deepening, making it difficult to see. As she reached for the lighter, a spike of alarm shot through her. Where was Ian’s lighter?
Shit. Why am I always so stupid?
Instantly the calm was gone. Glancing over to see if Ian was watching, she surreptitiously felt around on the ground desperately looking for the lighter. Couldn’t she look competent in front of Ian just once?
“Here,” he said, flicking on his flashlight.
His earthly scent surrounded her, and she felt the warmth of him even through her jacket. When she turned, he was right behind her, almost touching her. Electricity crackled between them, drawing her towards him like a magnet. She fought the urge to lean into his solid chest, knowing it was wrong, even if she couldn’t quite remember why. Working hard to gain control of herself, she focused on her job, searching the ground for the lighter. She finally spotted it under her pile of wood.
“Thank you,” she said softly, keeping her eyes low. She didn’t trust herself to look at him. She didn’t know what she would do. It was all a little bit too much, like the dreams she had been having of late. Dreams where Ian came to her rescue.
Sure, this was just a flashlight and a lighter, not a matter of life and death, but he had been there when she had needed him, and that felt like a big deal. In a burst of insight, she realized this was what she had been waiting for all day. She had been waiting for Ian to “save” her. Over and over she had needed his help, but he hadn’t been there because he had been too busy helping Celeste.
Celeste. How could she have forgotten about Celeste? Grabbing the lighter like it was lifeline, she forced herself to move closer to the edge of the fire pit, putting distance between them. She couldn’t let herself be hypnotized by the crackling heat between them.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, hoping a little levity would break the spell.
He watched her, saying nothing; his dark eyes unreadable in the shadows.
She fumbled the lighter. Cursing, she flicked the lighter again at the base of her kindling tepee. It caught and then fizzled out. She knelt, trying to still the commentary of doubt churning in her head, and tilted her head to blow gently on the base of the fire. Immediately, the kindling burst into flame with the influx of oxygen. She blew a few more careful breaths, and then the bigger pieces caught.
“I did it and on the first try!”
A smile curled her lips, as she leaned back on her heals. She had conquered the fire.
“Yes, you did,” Ian said, flicking off the flashlight.
She was grinning like a little kid when she turned to him. All thoughts of Celeste were wiped out in the face of her success. He returned her smile with a nod and a quirking of the corners of his mouth. She waited for a moment, not even realizing she was bracing herself for the words that would come next—until they didn’t come.
Now was the moment when Blake would have told her how she should have done it; how it wasn’t a big deal because a kid could have done it—anything to minimize her accomplishment. She wasn’t sure when Blake had stopped believing in her; he just had.
No such words came from Ian.
“Come and sit. I brought hot chocolate.” He waved a hand at the nearby log.
She hesitated, caught by surprise. Then she felt herself relax. This was Ian, not Blake. “Hot chocolate, huh?” Feeling suddenly flirtatious, she cocked her head suggestively to the side and cooed. “You don’t strike me as a hot chocolate man.”
“Oh, really?” Ian picked up a thermos off the ground and opened the lid. He was watching her, but his face was in the shadows, and she couldn’t read his expression.
“Yes, really,” she said coyly.
“And how do I strike you?”
Feeling oddly confident, Shelby sat down on the log beside him and took the thermos he passed to her. “I took you to be a hard-core coffee man; the kind that will eat the grounds straight in a survival situation.”
“You figured me wrong then.” His voice had a humorous edge to it. “Two things are certain about me. I keep hot chocolate in my pack at all times and my emergency kit in my pocket.”
“Emergency kit?”
“Yup.” Ian pulled out a small package from his pocket and handed it to her. She raised her eyebrows inquiringly, as she took it. “Go ahead and open it.”
Inside, she found a multi-tool, a lighter, and an orange emergency whistle all in miniature, plus a silver survival blanket all packaged in a waterproof bag. The whole thing was about the size of a wallet.
“It’s so tiny.”
“I have the full-sized one in my pack, but if I were to lose my pack, this would have everything I need for overnight.”
She packaged it up and handed it back to him, but he closed his hand around hers and pressed the package back towards her.
“You keep it. Keep it with you whenever you venture out, and you’ll always have what you need to keep warm in an emergency.”
For a second Ian’s words didn’t register; her whole mind was focused on the sizzling heat of his hand wrapped around hers. It felt strong and secure, like she could depend on him for anything. Once again, she felt a magnetic pull urging her to lean into him, rest her head against his shoulder, and tell him about the frustrations of her day.
“It’s my gift to get you started on your journey,” he said huskily.
As quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. He wasn’t caught up in the same fantasy she was. Momentarily disoriented, she tore her eyes away from him, realizing she had been staring at him.
“Wow, thanks,” she said, trying to hide her confusion. She ran a hand down the side of her yoga-pant-clad leg and then set the survival kit on the log beside her. “I don’t have pockets in these pants, but I did buy a few pairs of cargo pants at the thrift store for this trip. They have giant pockets in the legs...” She paused, trying to give herself a mental shake. She knew she was babbling again. “I mean, of course they do; that’s the definition of cargo pants.” She smiled ruefully, knowing she needed to stop talking, but feeling powerless over her mouth. He seemed to have that effect on her. “I can wear a pair tomorrow, and then I can put the survival packet in my pocket. Thanks...” her voice finally drifted off, and she fell silent.
Seemingly oblivious to her awkwardness, Ian smiled and handed her his thermos lid filled with hot chocolate, and then rose to grab another log for the fire. Taking the lid, she shivered and pulled the collar of her jacket up around her ears with her free hand. Enthralled as she had been by Ian, she hadn’t noticed the temperature drop. She cupped her hands tightly around the thermos lid and pulled it close to her face to take advantage of the warmth of the steam.
“Cold?” he asked, returning from stoking the fire.
She nodded. “I’m always cold. It’s a big fear of mine, getting cold.” Oh my God. I’m doing it again, she thought. Just stop talking. He doesn’t want to hear it. “I didn’t expect the temperature to drop so much. Another rookie mistake, eh?” she said, ignoring her own advice and babbling on.
“It takes time to learn,” he said, as he sat down beside her, closer than he had before. He was close enough that she was sure she could feel the warmth of his body through all the layers of her clothes.
“That’s what Ginny’s always saying.”
Ginny had also warned her about Ian, but that thought seemed far away.
“Well maybe that’s beca
use it’s true.” He opened the thermos and poured some more of the steaming hot liquid into the lid. “Here, this should help.” Then, he unzipped his jacket and leaned in closer, wrapping his arm around her, encompassing her in his jacket.
His action was so unexpected, she almost jerked away in surprise, catching herself in the last second. She breathed in slowly, trying to calm her nerves. His scent was heavy and masculine with hints of pine. Normally being this close to Ian was the opposite of calming. But, sitting in the dark beside the flickering fire with his scent beguiling her senses, she found herself leaning into him. Before she knew what she was doing, her head was resting against his chest.
“How’s that?” he asked softly. His breath fanned across her cheek.
“Hmm, much better.” She leaned further into him, absorbing his heat. She seemed to have forgotten that she had been telling herself this wasn’t what she needed. He was so close, and the warnings of her inner voice seemed far away and easy to ignore. She needed this. It just felt so right.
“This has turned out to be a good day,” she murmured.
He squeezed her tightly. “Mmm. It was a great day.”
Cocooned in the clearing surrounded by hundred-year-old trees, with only the light of the glowing fire to hold back the darkness, she felt like she had found a small piece of paradise. This was a moment she didn’t want to end.
“Tired?” Ian murmured in her ear.
“Mmm, yes. I could fall asleep right now.”
“It’s all the fresh air.”
Shelby could feel herself just drifting off, languishing in that place between being awake but fully relaxed and dropping off to sleep, but Ian suddenly shifted away from her. Instantly, she was fully awake, her heart pounding, reminded of where they were—at the Fire Pit, in the forest, at survival camp.
“This is so cozy,” Celeste cooed. “But it’s chilly.”
Shelby shot out from under Ian’s arm, shifting along the log to put some space between them. Her face flamed, as she caught sight of Celeste standing at the edge of the fire in a light sweater and dark-wash jeans. Behind her, all the rest of the gang were filing into the clearing.
Saving Shelby Page 13
