Reconsidering Riley

by Lisa Plumley

“You owe it to me? Damn right, you owe it to me, after the way you—” She broke off, drawing in a deep breath as she visibly calmed herself. He smile was brittle. “Gee, I never thought I’d hear you admit it. It’s a miracle.”

  He decided to overlook her cynicism. So she was skeptical of him. That was understandable. They’d attempted a casual fling once before, and Riley had ended it badly. This time, he would do everything right—including saying goodbye fairly, when the time came.

  “Please,” he said. “Please let me make things up to you. I can’t promise forever—”

  “You never could.”

  “—but I swear I want to make you happy.”

  Jayne wavered, biting her lip. She glanced up at him, her lovely blue eyes uncertain.

  Riley experienced a moment’s uncertainty himself. Had he made things clear enough? Had he explained properly?

  Sure, he had. He’d said “for as long as it lasts,” hadn’t he? Had warned he couldn’t promise her forever? That was fair. Just to be sure, Riley clarified.

  “When this trip is over with, our relationship will be—”

  “There’s one thing I want,” she interrupted, as though unable to remain silent any longer. Her serious look deepened, became even more earnest. More determined.

  “Anything.”

  “This time,” Jayne said, “I want to be the one to say goodbye.”

  Surprise rooted him in place. That was the last thing he’d expected from her.

  He should have been glad, Riley knew. He’d never been good at goodbyes—not since childhood. Usually he avoided them. He distrusted a sappy goodbye the same way he distrusted stability. The same way he distrusted the close-knit families and long-term friendships he’d glimpsed—but had never been a part of—growing up as the son of globetrotting parents. Those things didn’t fit in with his experiences. They never had.

  But this meant, he reminded himself, that Jayne understood his intentions; accepted them. Relief warred with disquiet inside him. If the truth were told, her desire to be the one to end things between them hurt.

  Riley nodded and stepped nearer. “All right.”

  She flinched. “And—and this has to be a secret between us. If my anti-heartbreak ladies find out we’re…involved again, my credibility will be destroyed.”

  “Understood.”

  “One more thing.” Her chin rose another notch. “I want to be the one to say how far this goes.”

  He pretended to deliberate. “That’s three things.”

  “Take it or leave it. Those are my terms.”

  “I can accept that.” With a smile, he slipped his hand to her cheek, loving the softness of her skin against his palm. He’d missed touching her. “Only what you want,” he promised. “Everything you want.”

  Jayne tilted her head and closed her eyes briefly, as though enjoying the feel of his hand cradling her. When she looked up at him again, her gaze was decisive.

  “Right now, I want you to kiss me,” she murmured. “Again and again and aga—”

  He did, cutting off her words with a kiss as tender and fierce as he could make it. As their lips came together, as their bodies reunited in a way their hearts had yet to retry, Riley couldn’t shake the sensation there was something he’d forgotten in all this…something important.

  Something like…he was still in love with Jayne.

  Oh, hell, he thought, and lost himself in their kiss with unmatched fervor. One or both of them was crazy to be doing this. And it was probably him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alexis tromped through the lightly forested area beyond the fishing hole, looking for Jayne and Uncle Riley—and determinedly avoiding Lance, who’d volunteered to help her. Although he was a high school freshman and therefore an automatically desirable older man, she refused to be tempted into something that would only end in Cinnabon disaster. After all, she was older herself now. And wiser.

  Next time, she’d follow Jayne’s advice from the Heartbreak 101 book. She’d evaluate her options, make an informed decision, and engage her heart only when she was sure.

  Confident that she’d made terrific progress in getting over Brendan already, Alexis ducked beneath a pine bough. She straightened, scanning the landscape. “Uncle Riley? Jayne? Oh, there you are, Jayne.”

  She smiled as the author emerged from behind a clump of baby oak trees, wearing hiking clothes and a curiously dreamy expression. Alexis waited as Jayne picked her way past pinecones and over fallen logs, calling a greeting as she came.

  “Where’s Uncle Riley?”

  “I, uh—” Jayne glanced backward, then quickly faced front again. She shrugged. “I guess he beat me back to camp. We were…having a wilderness survival tutorial.”

  “Ugh. When we did that, Uncle Riley made me eat moss.”

  “I didn’t have to eat moss,” Jayne assured her, an odd smile quirking her lips. She hugged herself.

  “Good. Well, anyway, Mack sent me to look for you.” Alexis admired the way Jayne had managed to coordinate and accessorize her outdoors wear, and vowed to do the same. “He says you’d better come start your next workshop, before the women start throwing fish guts at Bruce.”

  Jayne made a face. “That bad, huh?”

  “He volunteered to teach nude rock climbing if you weren’t back within half an hour. With all the appropriate harnesses.”

  Jayne shuddered. They both laughed.

  “In that case,” she said, “I’d better hurry up.”

  She caught up to Alexis, then passed her while cheerfully gesturing for Alexis to follow.

  Ten yards out, Jayne stopped. “I’m already lost. I think I have a mental block about the wilderness.”

  “This way.” Alexis offered to take the lead, having memorized much of this area during previous hikes. Doing so, she came closer. Peered at something caught in Jayne’s ponytail. Plucked it out. “You have something in your hair.”

  She held it toward Jayne.

  “A leaf.” Jayne gave a nervous laugh, snatching the crispy dried leaf from Alexis’s fingers. “Wonder how that got there?”

  “Some bark, too.” She removed a slender, piney scrap.

  Jayne grabbed it. With another awkward chuckle, she tossed it over her shoulder, then brushed her hands clean. “Ha! I guess I ought to leave some of the woods in the woods, huh? Let’s go.”

  Suspiciously, Alexis squinted as Jayne passed by. The last time she’d seen so many leaves and bark in a person’s hair, her mom and dad had been trying out techniques from their Making Whoopie In The Wilderness book. In the backyard. In a tent. In the backyard. It had been totally gross.

  But this time…hmmm.

  Alexis hurried to catch up. She turned Jayne in the correct direction, then moved on. “I’ve been wondering…did I ever mention the way Uncle Riley looks at you?”

  “Me?” Jayne stopped dead. “Riley looks at me?”

  “All the time. In this really love struck way. He talks about you, too.”

  “Really?”

  Alexis nodded. Jayne was already hooked. She could tell. And Uncle Riley had been a slam dunk yesterday. Sheesh, this stuff was easy. Alexis realized she had major potential as a matchmaker. She could set up shop in the school cafeteria, start taking applications after spring break, maybe even charge a fee. Why not?

  Alexis smiled. “You bet. And you won’t believe what he told me yesterday….”

  Riley was in love with her.

  Jayne still couldn’t believe it. She conducted one more anti-heartbreak workshop (shiatsu trigger banishment). She ate fresh fried fish for lunch (shamefully delicious). She even hiked another several miles into the canyon (gorgeous, truly). But even after all that, Jayne marveled over what she’d learned.

  Of course, Alexis hadn’t come right out and said it. She hadn’t said, Uncle Riley’s in love with you. But she might as well have. The things she’d described…well, obviously love was the most reasonable conclusion to be drawn from the behavior Alexis had detai
led with teenaged enthusiasm.

  Immense satisfaction filled her. Jayne knew she’d been right about Riley. There were still feelings between them.

  And it wasn’t just her.

  Giddy with the knowledge, Jayne trouped after Bruce and Carla. Her feet no longer hurt, her legs no longer ached. Her heart was light, and her steps were, too. Riley’s kiss-ambush earlier made twice as much sense now. So did his amazing invitation. The words he’d used would linger in her memory forever, she was sure.

  I’m talking about finishing what we started, all those months ago.

  Okay, so she’d caved in the face of his sincerity. She’d relented when he’d kissed her and kissed her and…she’d relented. Period. She’d made the decision to take Riley up on his offer, but looking back on it now, Jayne felt fine with that.

  She had her anti-heartbreak techniques. She had almost two years’ worth of separation from Riley, two years’ worth of personal growth and confidence. Her heart was safe. She could pick up where they’d left off, enjoy herself, and move on. She could date like a man.

  Date like a man. Hey! That could be a fabulous follow-up book, after her Heartbreak 101 hands-on workbook was published. Date Like A Man: Dazzle Like A Woman. It could work. She had to get a proposal to her editor right away.

  Newly excited, about both her personal life and her professional life, Jayne bounded over a fallen log. She kept her eyes on Bruce and Carla up ahead, but her thoughts raced onward. So long as her clandestine reunions with Riley weren’t discovered by her breakup-ees…

  The possibility gave her pause. It made her remember something that had been pushed aside by the surprise of Riley’s suggestion and the heat of his kiss. Something important.

  Something like…oh, yeah. She was still in love with him.

  Oh, boy, Jayne thought. She picked up the pace, as though she could outrun her doubts along with her outdoorsy inexperience. It was no use, though. This put their rekindled romance in a whole new light. A crazy light.

  One or both of them had to be nuts to try this again, to finish what they’d started. It was probably her.

  When Jayne reached the rendezvous point to conduct her next workshop, Mack’s group wasn’t there yet…but Riley’s was. She didn’t know how he’d managed to outmatch drill sergeant Bruce’s punishing pace, but he had. While Bruce vanished to “hang a leak” and Carla shook her head at him in disgust, Jayne held back to catch her breath. To her right rose the forest they’d been hiking through. To her left soared a magnificent red rock cliff. And in front of her lay the space allotted for her upcoming anti-heartbreak workshop.

  Doris, Donna, and Lance worked good-naturedly to set up the temporary camp they would inhabit for the next hour or so. Riley worked too, hauling fallen logs for seating amid the forested area’s less-rocky terrain. He would drag the logs back to their original locations when they’d finished with them, Jayne knew, having watched him follow the backpacker’s “leave no trace” dictum several times on this trip already.

  His outdoorsman’s conscientiousness was something she admired about Riley. His outdoorsman’s strength, she considered now, was another. He’d removed his fleece to work in his close-fitting crew neck shirt, and the sight of all those chiseled muscles in action was breathtaking.

  Riley moved with natural grace, with purposeful motions and innate male agility. His forearms flexed as he sought purchase on a thick-barked fallen pine log. His bicepss strained as he freed the log, then began dragging its six-foot length to join the others he’d moved into the clearing just beyond Jayne’s vantage point.

  Riley sighted another, final log and matter-of-factly pulled it, too. He seemed unfazed by the thigh-high rounded length of wood, unbothered by the exertion required to move its undoubtedly considerable weight. Watching him, a tiny thrill passed through Jayne…which was ridiculous, really. She’d never been much for the he-man type, had never been overly impressed by machismo. But this…this was different.

  It wasn’t as though Riley were doing something particularly meaningful—say, building a shelter for them. But Jayne had the sense he could have, if he’d needed to. He could have cared for them all, expertly and indefinitely. Despite the dangers he posed to her heart, with Riley she felt safe. Protected. As alien as the feeling was, she enjoyed it.

  Doris and Donna approached him. “We’re finished,” the first sister said. “And I wanted to tell you again, Riley, how grateful we are to you. If you hadn’t showed us how to pad our feet with that moleskin, Donna and I would have been crippled with blisters by now.”

  “Nonsense, Doris. What really did the trick were those telescoping walking sticks Riley lent us.”

  “My feet hurt more than your stupid knees.”

  “My knees are worse than your big ole’ feet any day.”

  “Crybaby.”

  “Big Foot!”

  Doris opened her mouth to rebut. Riley’s raised palms and gruff expression stopped her. “You’re both welcome.”

  They quit bickering, turning to him with identical worshipful grins. Riley was oblivious. He began slapping away the worst of the dirt and spider webs from the logs he’d arranged. It was a concession to cleanliness, Jayne knew, designed partly with her in mind. She’d been ridiculously grateful when he’d initiated it, despite his jokes about her “princess-y posterior.”

  Riley glanced over his shoulder at Doris and Donna. “You two need more work to do?”

  “Oh, no.”

  “We’ve got plenty.”

  The sisters hurried away, not noticing Jayne watching, open-mouthed, from the edge of the campsite. “…really is so sweet,” drifted past, “and quite a hunk. If I were fifteen years younger…”

  Jayne couldn’t believe it. He’d conquered Doris and Donna, too! First Kelly, now the squabbling sisters. Jayne’s he-done-me-wrong allies were melting like cherry SnoKones in a puddle of sunlight. Was there no end to the magic Riley Davis could work?

  He glanced up and saw her standing there. A glad-to-see-you smile broke over his handsome, square-jawed face. “Jayne! I was hoping you’d get here soon.”

  Girlish delight filled her. Nope, there was no end to the magic. Jayne spread her arms. “Yup, here I am.”

  “Good. Because Lance needs help sharpening the sticks for toasting marshmallows with. He’s over in that stand of trees.”

  He tossed her the damned Swiss Army knife again. She couldn’t catch it, and it landed with a thud at her feet. Memories of her brothers laughing as she missed Frisbee toss after Frisbee toss (“The dog catches better than you do!”) assaulted her as Jayne looked at the knife taunting her from the ground.

  Indignantly, she bent over and snatched it from the dried needles underfoot. “Fine. Stick sharpening? I can do that. Anything else?”

  “Nope. Thanks.”

  Jayne turned. Riley’s voice followed her:

  “You’ll need the big blade.”

  She glanced at the knife in her fist. “I knew that.”

  “It folds out. And don’t cut off your finger. I don’t have any spares.” He paused. “Spare fingers, that is.”

  “Har, har.”

  “They need to be big sticks,” he warned. “Long ones.”

  Jayne envisioned bashing a certain bossy trail guide over the head with a big, long stick. “Of course,” she said.

  Then, raising her head high, she stalked off to show know-it-all Riley exactly what she could accomplish when motivated.

  Shaking his head, Riley watched the feminine swish of Jayne’s hips as she huffed off in her baby blue ensemble. He felt a little guilty for sending her to do something she was undoubtedly ill-equipped to do, so he decided to throw out a peace offering.

  “Lance has probably finished most of them by now. There won’t be much for you to do.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Be careful not to slice off Lance’s finger, either.”

  “Bite me. I can do it.”

  Her cocky swagger carried h
er all the way into the woods and out of his vision. Riley laughed. He’d almost forgotten how bawdy Jayne could be when ruffled. Beneath her high-heels and lipstick exterior beat the heart of a bona fide wanna-be tough girl.

  Chattering voices drifted toward him. An instant later, Mack entered the clearing with Mitzi, Kelly, and Alexis. Mitzi immediately located Bruce and went to flirt with the guide (making the source of the hearts-drawn-in-arranged-leaves and “M + B” spelled out in stones along the trail immediately obvious). Kelly waved cheerfully to Riley and then began purifying some water through a filter. His niece looked for Lance, caught a glimpse of him through the pine branches, and deliberately swerved toward Riley instead.

  That worked for him. He had a bone to pick with Alexis, and had since early this morning.

  He looked up as she passed. “Hey. I never made you eat moss, damn it. Stop spreading that around.”

  She paused. Frowned over her shoulder. “Made me eat…?” Alexis echoed, then comprehension dawned. “You were fooling around in the woods with Jayne!” she crowed. “I knew it!”

  He stiffened. Whoops. Too late, Riley remembered he’d been ducking behind a tree, waiting for Jayne to get a head start on him so they wouldn’t reveal the truth about their temporary reconciliation, when he’d overheard that aggravating tidbit fall from his niece’s lips.

  “Don’t you have some chores to do?” he asked, frowning as he leaned forward to finish dusting the logs. “Fish to clean? Tent poles to straighten? Somebody else to pester?”

  “You’re getting lucky with Jayne,” Alexis sang. She pumped her hips and pushed her palms in the air in some kind of demented whoopee-celebration dance. “You’re getting lucky with Jayne.”

  “I am not.” But it hadn’t been for lack of trying. At a crucial juncture amid the fallen leaves, Jayne had remembered that amour al fresco might include actual bugs, and had bolted upright. Riley could still feel the sizzle inside him caused by their preceding kisses, though. Not that his innocent niece needed to know that. “It’s none of your damned business.”

  Alexis went on dancing. She stopped singing long enough to peer at his head. “I’ll bet you have leaves in your hair, too. Jayne did. No wonder she looked all dreamy.”