by Lisa Plumley
Had she used her bestselling techniques to get over him?
The possibility hurt his pride. And it did something else, too. Something he refused to contemplate, but which felt suspiciously like stirring up regret. He was bothered by this in ways he hadn’t begun to untangle. Even his time alone today hadn’t brought him closer to a resolution.
On the other hand, there was still bozo-boy, Jayne’s former boyfriend, to consider. Riley was sure he was the guy who’d inspired her book. Because after all, Riley’s breakup with Jayne had been clean.
But did that really matter? Could a woman get over a man because of a bunch of touchy-feely anti-heartbreak techniques? And if she could…where did that leave the men of the world, when they were heartbroken? Because after he’d left Jayne, he’d sure as hell felt—
No. He wasn’t going to turn all introspective and girly and helpless, damn it. The fact of the matter was, Riley didn’t consider himself easy to get over. No man did. And nothing would make him believe Jayne’s self-help stuff really worked.
“I guess you were surprised to find out I was the group’s leader,” Jayne said, breaking into his thoughts.
He looked at her. “Surprised isn’t the half of it. I actually thought you were here because of a broken heart.”
“Well…I am.”
Riley stiffened. He knew he’d detected the signs in her.
“Indirectly, of course,” she went on blithely. “The techniques in my book are inspired by an actual broken heart.” She raised her palms. “I know, I know. You’re going to say I’m not an expert or anything. But I do have a knack for helping people, Riley. I really do. Talking to the women who’ve read my book made me see that.”
She twisted an Oreo in half. Closed her eyes while she carefully scraped off the icing with her bottom teeth. Licked her lips with delight after swallowing the sweet filling. Smiled at him when she caught him watching.
Riley experienced an intense urge to become a cookie.
“And writing my second book—my follow-up workbook,” Jayne went on, “will prove it.”
“Prove your knack.”
“Yes.” Of course. “That’s why this trip is so important to me. And it’s also why I was so concerned about your reaction to my leading the group.”
“My reaction?” Uncomfortable, he shifted his shoulders. “I went for a hike after I found out. That’s all.”
“Exactly! That’s all. That’s all you did!”
“It’s not a crime. It’s not even that hard. You just put on some all-terrain shoes and—”
“What about talking? What about sharing? What about expressing your feelings?”
He felt trapped. “I’m trying to quit. Ha, ha.”
“Oh, Riley.” Sadly, Jayne shook her head. “Maybe you need some of my techniques. I think you’re seriously out of touch with your emotions.”
He was perfectly in touch with at least one emotion right now. Confusion.
“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re mad because I didn’t do anything when I learned the truth this morning?”
She nodded, eyes wide. “Of course.”
“I will never understand women.”
“All we want is some communication!” Jayne sat straighter, waving her halved Oreo like a chocoholic relationships cheerleader deprived of her usual pom-poms. “Some reaction, and some discussion. You know it drives me crazy when you do…that thing you do.”
“When I do…nothing?”
“Yes!”
Riley shook his head. Gamely, even though he wasn’t sure how he was going to manage it, he said, “I’ll try to do…something in the future.”
“Excellent.” Apparently satisfied, Jayne squeezed his hand. Her chipper demeanor veered toward full relationship-counselor mode.
And aggravated him. He wasn’t one of her breakup-ees, and she’d damn well better remember it.
He squeezed back, leaving their fingers intertwined.
She glanced up, startled. Something sparked between them, something not forgotten but…delayed. All at once, he wanted to lean nearer. Wanted to find out if her lips still tasted as sweet as he remembered, if her body still fit his as well as he recalled…if her heart would race the way his would if they came together. He felt an urge to claim her for his own. And he would have, if not for—
“Come on, you two! It’s time to play Twister!”
Mack, Kelly, and Carla were suddenly there, grinning. They appeared to have every intention of dragging Riley and Jayne onto the plastic polka-dotted game mat spread in the center of the common room. Riley didn’t know where it had come from (he sure as hell hadn’t packed the thing in), but he did know one thing for certain.
He could duck faster than they could grab.
He glanced at Jayne. “Race you to the back deck?”
“You’re on!”
Laughing, Jayne collapsed against the tumbled rock wall surrounding the deck. Riley stopped beside her in the semi-darkness, not the least bit out of breath, laughing too.
A companionable feeling came to life inside her. The intimacy of the late hour, the camaraderie of having evaded the potentially-embarrassing Twister game, the slightly naughty thrill of having shed their responsibilities for a while, all combined to leave Jayne with a surprising sense of togetherness. With Riley, of all people.
Who’d have thunk it?
She looked at him. In the faint glow from the lodge’s windows, his features took on an unfamiliar cast—one that temporarily changed him from the man who’d laid her heart bare to simply…a man. A man who intrigued her, despite all common sense. He looked dark, a little dangerous, wholly alive.
He looked good.
“You’re fast,” she said before she could get carried away with this stuff. “I can hardly believe I beat you.”
“You didn’t beat me. You tripped me!”
“My slipper came off.” Jayne gestured toward her plush baby blue platforms, both of which she’d restored to her feet. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Then you elbowed me when I got back up.”
“I was putting my slipper back on. Can I help it if you ran into my arm?”
“And when we got to the outside door, you blatantly flaunted your bogus lead by stopping.”
She rolled her eyes. “How else was I supposed to let you be chivalrous? Thanks for opening the door for me, by the way.”
“Cheater.”
“Complainer.”
They stuck their tongues out at each other. The childish gesture didn’t last long, though. Both of them were smiling too broadly to sustain it.
Riley slung his arm around her shoulders. “Ahhh, this feels good. Doesn’t it?”
“Just like old times,” Jayne agreed, snuggling closer.
Standing side by side, they gazed out into the uncivilized landscape beyond the lodge. Silently, they shared a few breaths. Companionably, their bodies eased together.
It was like old times. If she’d closed her eyes, Jayne could have pretended she and Riley were back home on the coast, walking along the Pacific shoreline hand in hand, talking and laughing and loving. Wistfully, she sighed…and closed her eyes. Only for a moment.
A sweet moment.
“You must be cold.” Stepping away, Riley tugged off his Polarfleece hoodie. Clad from the waist up in his lone T-shirt, he helped her put on the hoodie over her PJ top. He pulled her close again. “There. Better?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jayne savored the leftover heat emanating from the fleece. She let the long sleeves flop past her fingertips, feeling petite and girlish and grateful. “Much warmer. Thanks.”
He nodded, his arm once again secure around her shoulders. One of the things she’d always liked about Riley was his generosity. He never hesitated to share. His clothes. His time. His cheesy curly fries at lunch when she’d ordered the salad plate. He wasn’t an especially sociable man, but he was a giving one. She’d almost forgotten that about him.
He cleared his throat. “
How have you been, Jayne?”
“Since I got here? Oh, fine, I guess. The bathtub shortage is a little extreme, but Gwen’s been nice enough to—”
“No. I mean, how have you been?”
“But I just—oh. You mean, since…?”
Riley nodded. His dark gaze pierced her, intense with the need to know. Jayne realized, all of a sudden, that he’d actually worried about her.
She blew out a deep breath. Looked away. Where to begin?
“I’ve been…fine. It was rough at first—”
His arm tightened around her shoulders. She doubted he was aware of it.
“—but now I’m…okay.” Jayne refused to reveal any more. In a gesture as brave as any she’d ever made, she turned her face up to his. Lightly, she asked, “How about you?”
“I’m…” His voice broke. For no discernable reason at all, Riley raised his fingers to her cheek. “Better every day,” he said, and kissed her.
The contact took her breath away, stole her urge to talk and her ability to do so, all at the same time. Remembrance swamped her as their mouths met, explored, reunited. Jayne turned in his arms, knowing dimly she should resist this…but having no recollection at all of the reasons why. Riley’s lips felt too good on hers, his hands too welcome on her body, for her to turn away.
A moan escaped him. The husky sound of it thrilled her, even as she felt his hands delve into her hair, prepare her; even as he kissed her again. This, this was the reunion they should have had. The reunion Jayne had dreamed of, thanks to all her most foolish hopes.
And now, Riley was giving it to her.
His hands claimed her, touched her, tenderly pulled her still closer. The scary dark night surrounding them fell away, taking Jayne’s fears along with it. Being with Riley felt right. It had always felt right, so right.
Until it had ended.
Ended.
With an anguished cry, she pushed away from him. She sucked in a deep breath, trembling all over. “Riley, we can’t do this. It’s been too long. Too much has happened, too—”
“We can. Why not?”
He captured her cheeks gently between his palms, making her look into his shadowed face. A kind of intensity burned there, along with what looked like…surprise? Was Riley as surprised as she was that he’d kissed her? Or was he surprised to have enjoyed it…all over again?
Jayne clasped his wrists. Tugged his arms lower, so his touch couldn’t cloud her judgment. “This isn’t the right time.”
“What time is the right time? When we’re apart? We have a second chance, here. Let’s use it.”
“Use it? Are you suggesting a fling?”
Powerful shoulders shrugged.
“A fling?” she repeated, unable to believe his audacity.
Riley grinned. “You know we’d both enjoy it.”
“Ooooh!” She released his wrists—the better to swat him for making such an inane suggestion. “Men! You get within fifty feet of potential whoopee, and you can’t think of anything else.”
He stepped closer. Said seriously, “I can think of how sweet you are.”
“Riley—”
“I can think of how much I missed seeing your nose scrunch up when you’re trying not to smile.” He thumbed the telltale crinkle at the corner of her mouth. “Like right now.”
He would have to bring up the nose scrunch thing. She still didn’t believe she did it. It sounded terribly unflattering. Like horizontally-striped Capri pants.
All the same, Jayne felt herself weakening. “You make me sound like a rabbit,” she groused. “A grumpy, whiskery rabbit on laughing gas.”
This time, Riley was the one to smile. But he didn’t back down, and he didn’t let up. “And I can think,” he went on, “of how much I admire you—”
Awww.
“—for actually trying to help the women in your group.”
Okay, he’d been doing pretty good until now. But that did it.
“Trying? ‘Trying to help’ them?” Jayne advance on him, jabbing her finger against the hard planes of his muscular chest. “What do you mean, ‘trying to help’ them? Listen, Mr. lone wolf, out-of-touch-with-his-emotions, kiss-a-girl-in-the-moonlight Davis. If you’re implying that my techniques are—”
“There’s no moon tonight. Just us. Together.”
Momentarily distracted, Jayne glanced up. “Huh? No moon? Then what’s that?”
She pointed. Riley looked.
“The glow of Gwen’s bug zapper light around the corner.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Poor bugs. They probably think that nice radiant shimmer is the moon, just like I did.”
And other people probably think Riley is sincere. Just like I did. Once.
For the first time in her life, Jayne actually felt sorry for the creepy crawlies. “Poor bugs,” she said again.
“Maybe.” He lifted his shoulder. “Deluded or not, at least they die happy.”
“That’s a terrible thing to say!”
“Endings aren’t bad, in and of themselves.”
“Easily said,” Jayne shot back, folding her arms, “for the person who decides when they happen.”
His eyebrows raised. She had to admit, Riley did a nice imitation of a guy who didn’t follow the love ‘em and leave ‘em code of perpetual bachelorhood. But Jayne knew better.
“You’re trying to sidetrack me,” she said, shaking her head. “It won’t work.”
“You’re the one who brought up the bug zapper.” He spread his arms, palms up. “I was only trying to help. I would rather have gone on kissing you.”
His gaze dropped to her lips again. The interest—the remembrance—in his expression made heat flare in her middle. That really had been some kiss. Hot. Tender. Seductive. Honestly, no one kissed as thrillingly as Riley did, Jayne thought. It was as though he devoted his whole attention to the pleasure at hand…and to making sure she enjoyed herself, too. It was as though—
No. There was no point traipsing down the kissing aisle in the Memory Mart. She had to stay focused. Determinedly, Jayne backtracked to the subject of their initial disagreement.
“I can’t believe you could stand there and suggest my self-help techniques don’t work,” she said.
“I can’t believe you could believe they would work.”
“I can’t believe you could believe I could believe they wouldn’t work!”
Riley paused. Scratched his head. “Are you sure the kissing isn’t going anywhere? Because this—”
“No!”
He held up both palms. “Okay. Settle down. Or is shrieking one of your ‘techniques?’”
“I wasn’t shrieking. I was…being assertive.”
“Assertively shrieking.”
“Arrgh!”
“Look.” Riley came nearer, all tall, strong male and charmingly concerned heartbreaker. “I understand you’re hurting. But I’m trying to help.”
Great. Jayne stifled a groan. It had been a pity kiss.
“So don’t take it out on me,” he went on. “I’m not that guy, all right?”
He’d had her, up until… “What guy?”
“The guy who inspired your book. Your bozo ex-boyfriend.”
She gawped at him. He actually thought…?
“But there are still good men in the world,” Riley continued. He patted her shoulder. “Hang in there.”
She didn’t believe this. “I don’t need to hang in there. I have proven anti-heartbreak techniques—bestselling anti-heartbreak techniques—to see me through anything.”
Riley shook his head. Poor, deluded Jayne, his expression said.
“What? You don’t believe me?” she asked, shrugging off his sympathetic shoulder-patting. “I’ll prove it!”
“Come on, Jayne. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, I do, you—you—self-help skeptic!” She stamped her plush platform slipper. “I’ll prove to you the techniques in my book work. By the time this trip is over with, ev
ery woman in my group will be cured of her broken heart. Just like I am!”
“Oh, yeah?” He leaned against the wall, self-assured and blatantly masculine. “I have news for you. By the time this trip is over with, you’ll be begging me for that ‘fling’ you turned down a few minutes ago.”
“A fling? With you?” Jayne looked him over, trying to seem as though nicely defined muscles, lively hazel eyes, and a killer smile had no effect on her at all. “Hah!”
“Hah?”
“Hah, hah!”
Slowly, Riley grinned. Uh-oh. That grin meant trouble. It meant he had plans—mischievous plans—along with every intention of implementing them.
“Some men aren’t so easy to get over,” he warned.
Men like you, Jayne finished silently for him. She couldn’t help it. The rumbling sound of his voice reached right into her heart and gave her memories a shake. It was sexy, compelling, challenging. It was…something she’d yearned to hear, for months after he’d left.
Somehow, she raised her chin and found her own voice. “Some men need enlightenment. Get ready for yours.”
At that, he actually laughed. “If you think your techniques are that good…bring them on.”
“I will!”
Riley’s speculative gaze settled on her. Roved lower, to the places he’d revisited with his slow-moving hands earlier. Lifted again, to her face. Aggravatingly, he nodded—almost as though he approved of her decision.
Was there anything worse than an adversary who couldn’t wait to do battle? At that moment, Jayne didn’t think so. Riley’s assurance made her wonder…to begin with, to wonder if he knew something she didn’t.
“Then you can start right now,” he said, and leaned forward to deliver his opening salvo.
At the first lowering of his head, Jayne braced herself. She could withstand another kiss. Another searing union of their mouths. Another no-holds-barred entanglement of their arms and legs and hips. What she couldn’t withstand was…the gentle press of his lips against her forehead?
The warmth of his touch faded quickly. The shock it caused did not. Even as Riley winked and returned inside the lodge, Jayne stood unbelieving. How could it be that his chaste kiss, so seemingly devoid of sizzle but so filled with tenderness, made her yearn for him in ways his passionate kiss had not?
