by Lisa Plumley
His hands settled on her shoulders. He smiled. “You didn’t have to. But you’re missing something important here. The reason everyone left is because of you.”
“Great. I feel loads better now.”
“No. Let me try again.” His fingers squeezed her shoulders gently. “What I mean is—”
“That I don’t fit in. It’s okay. You don’t have to shield me from it. I can take it.”
But not very well. She turned her face to the window again, only to catch her reflection in the glass. Pale eyes, undefined lips, and straggly, bandana-ed hair met her gaze. She really should have fixed herself up while she’d had the chance. Now it was too late. Self-pity swamped her.
“The way I look,” Jayne couldn’t help but moan, “that javelina wouldn’t even want me for company.”
In the glass, Riley’s puzzled face loomed over hers. Then realization swept his features, and he turned her around again. “Yes! You look terrible! You’ve realized it!”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it. I look like Mother Nature after a really bad bender.”
“It must have been the bandana,” Riley said, inexplicably.
Even more inexplicably, he hugged her. He didn’t release her, either. He kept her locked in his arms, where Jayne was forced to confront the flex of his muscles, the scent of wood smoke on his clothes…the beloved familiarity of his body pressing against hers. Riley put both palms to her cheeks and cradled her face, beaming down at her with delight and…pride?
“Yeah. It’s a magic bandana,” she agreed, feeling confused but unwilling to ruin his good mood.
“My magic bandana,” Riley said. He straightened, then seemed to remember something. “And all I meant to say earlier was that the only reason your guidance groupies feel free to do their own thing is because you’ve empowered them. You’ve cured their broken hearts so well that some of them are even ready to try again. You did it.”
Well, looked at that way…. “I did do it!”
Riley nodded. “You did. And now that you’re finished with that, there’s only one more thing you have to do.”
“Actually, there are tons more things.” Jayne ticked them off on her fingers, feeling encouraged again. “I need to shampoo my hair, fix my pedicure, wash my clothes…does the lodge have an ironing board, by any chance?”
“It’s got something even better.” A devilish glint heightened the green in his eyes, and made his smile look twice as inviting. “And it’s especially for you. Come on.”
Chapter Nineteen
The canyon lodge’s master bedroom suite was at the far end of the two-story structure, having been added on several years after the first log had been notched. It possessed a four-poster bed, assorted furniture, an attached bathroom, and the most privacy to be had in the entire lodge. It was this last that concerned Riley as he led Jayne there to reveal his surprise.
“Wow!” she said, whirling one-handed from the bedpost. She landed on the pillow-piled mattress. “My bunk is ‘Camp Weehawken.’ Yours is ‘Camp Eddie Bauer.’ This is great!”
“Glad you like it.”
She gazed at him seriously from atop the deep green and white comforter. “If you’ve brought me here to switch sleeping accommodations, I accept.”
Before he’d even blinked, Jayne began bouncing. For a moment, Riley watched in surprise as she bounced to her knees, then to her feet, then leapt nearly ceiling-high. The bed’s plain net top fluttered. Something inside him did, too, at witnessing her unbridled enthusiasm.
“A mattress!” she said as she bounced. “Real sheets! Pillows! I’m in heaven.”
“That’s not the surprise,” he called through cupped hands.
“It’s not?” She stopped, bandana loosened on her hair. She straightened it with one hand, then accepted his help getting down from the bed. “What is it, then?”
“This way.” Riley headed for the short hallway—edged by a closet—that connected the bedroom and bathroom. Halfway there, he stopped Jayne. He untied her bandana, then held it in front of her face. “May I?”
Jayne blinked. “Blindfold me?”
He nodded.
She swallowed. Curiosity—and interest—brightened her eyes. “Okay.”
With gentle motions, he tied the bandana over her closed eyes. He made sure it wasn’t too tight, made sure she couldn’t peek…made sure his body nudged up against hers as he did so. This surprise may have been for Jayne, but Riley realized it was starting to thrill him, too.
They progressed to the bathroom doorway. The scents of soap and roses teased them inside the rustic log-walled space. There, it was warmer. Steam clouded the room’s mirrors and made the air moist to breathe. The soft rug he’d laid padded their footsteps as they drew nearer to Riley’s surprise.
“Can I look yet?” Jayne asked, suppressed excitement in her voice. She jiggled a little. She’d always loved surprises.
“Are you ready?”
She nodded. Suddenly, Riley wasn’t sure he was ready. It meant a lot to him that she be happy. He took one last look at everything he’d arranged, making sure every detail was perfect for her. His fingers shook as he untied the bandana.
Jayne gasped. She clasped her hands over her heart. “A bath!”
She gave him an unreadable over-the-shoulder look. “So this is what you’ve been doing since we got here.”
He shrugged. “Well, this…and raccoon-proofing the place.”
Smiling, she stepped nearer to the old zinc washtub he’d scrubbed and polished and filled with hot soapy water. Reverently, like the bath fanatic she was, Jayne knelt and dipped her hand to the froth.
“I couldn’t find any of the deluxe bath products you like,” he said, wishing the freestanding tub were bigger and fancier, “but Gwen always keeps Mister Bubble on hand.”
“Mister Bubble is perfect.” She stood to blow soapsuds from her fingers, then laughed. “What do you think got me hooked in the first place?”
“If a storm hits and the power goes out, we’re screwed,” Riley told her, gesturing toward the dozens of white candles he’d arranged and lit on every stable horizontal surface. There were short squat candles and tall thin tapers and multi-wick extravaganzas and everything in between. “This includes the lodge’s entire emergency supply.”
“In that case, I’ll pray for clear weather.” She turned to him in the wavering candlelight, her features warmed by the glow. “It’s beautiful.”
So was she. Beautiful.
“Sorry the tub isn’t a traditional model. I scrubbed the hell out of it, though, so you don’t have to worry about—”
“I’m not worried.” Jayne edged nearer, pressing her thumb to his lips to silence him. She angled her head, nudged her thumb past his lower lip, and softly kissed him. “I’m grateful. I don’t know how you knew I needed this. Thank you.”
He felt encouraged. And relieved. He nodded toward the vanity, where several tea kettles waited atop a bath towel. “There’s extra hot water, in case you get cold.”
“Oh, I won’t get cold.” Meaningfully, she ran her hands down the front of his fleece, then slipped them to its hem. Moments later, the garment whisked over his head. She dropped it. “I’ll have you to keep me warm.”
“You make it hard for a man to be chivalrous.” He shook his head. “This bath is supposed to be just for you.”
She eyeballed the tub. Shrugged. “It looks big enough for both of us to me.”
“I had a shower while I waited for the tub to fill.” He’d set up a hose system to pipe hot water from the sink to the old-fashioned washtub. For aesthetics’ sake, he’d removed it before bringing her here, though. Women cared about things like that. “You go ahead. Get in. I have some chores I should—”
“Oh, no you don’t.” Jayne grabbed his T-shirt as he turned away. She tugged him nearer, then pulled his shirt off altogether. She tossed it away, her expression daring him to disagree…and urging him to join her. Again.
Riley coul
dn’t say he regretted her single-mindedness. He did, however, begin to feel things were unequal between them. Here he stood, bare-chested and barefooted, while his intended bathe-ee was still completely dressed.
“As an invitation, ripping off my clothes is a little ambiguous,” Riley said. “What if birthday parties were run that way?” With a grin, he unzipped Jayne’s fleece in demonstration. “‘Please, drop by my party, won’t you?’”
He raised the garment over her head and tossed it onto a nearby chair. “Tonight. All night.”
She smiled. He continued, lightly running his hands over the form-fitting tee she had on underneath. He slipped his fingers along the hem, teasing the warm skin just beneath. “I’d love to see you there.”
At his mock-serious tone, Jayne raised her eyebrows. “Gee, I wonder how a person RSVPs to an invitation like yours? I suppose…” She tucked her fingertips into the front of his pants and deftly thumbed open the top button. “Oh! Why, look at that. Will this do?”
Her blue eyes sparkled. Her disingenuous grin warmed him all over. Her hips swayed, inviting his touch, as she teased him with another up-and-down sweep of her hands on his chest.
Riley cupped her derrière in his palms and drew her against him. “That’ll do,” he said, and lowered his head.
Their kiss was hungry, familiar, utterly necessary. Their mouths met in the steamy heat, sliding and tasting and searching. After days of never being truly alone, they luxuriated in the privacy of a room to themselves—with Jayne doubtless thrilled to have four walls and a ceiling, too.
“I don’t know if I should stay,” she murmured, frowning slightly, when their kiss ended. “My breakup-ees might need—”
“They’re fine for now. Your workshops are finished, right? Bruce and Mack can handle anything else that comes up.”
She bit her lip, thinking.
“Jayne?”
In reply, she crossed her arms and took off her shirt. Her bra was utilitarian and white. Riley couldn’t help but think it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Is that a yes?” he asked. “You’re okay with this?”
“Boy, you’ve obviously been out in the wilderness too long.” She delivered a nibbling, sexy kiss that him groping for her when she pulled away. “If you can’t recognize a semi-naked woman as a yes—”
“I can.” Lightheartedness filled him. He unsnapped her bra’s front clasp with a pinch of his fingers. “That’s a ‘yippee!’,” he informed her, mock-seriously.
“Oh, good.” Shucking the white cotton straps from her shoulders, Jayne smiled. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”
“Shimmy some more, and I’ll read you the whole book.”
She did. Naked. Riley didn’t think his life could get any better. Unless maybe Jayne stayed, or he…no. He’d be damned if he’d start down that path. Besides, Jayne had her fingers on his fly again. She was either taking off his pants, or measuring him for a jock strap. Either way, he stood cooperatively still, enjoying every inch of the task.
“See anything you like?” he asked, biting back a groan.
“I like everything I see.” She leaned back, gauging the effect. “Now, if I can just ease past this…obstruction….”
“Obstruction? Nice way to talk about—”
“You like the way I talk, and you know it.”
She was right. He liked her surprising bawdiness, her open interest, her dexterity with a button fly. But Riley didn’t have the words to say so. He didn’t even have the ability to tease. Jayne’s touch had stolen his will to do anything more than breathe—and love her.
She opened his fly wider. She slipped his pants lower, past his straining erection. Her fingers whisked over the soft cotton that still covered him. He throbbed. There was something wicked in the glance she gave him next, something expectant and heated and loving. He wanted to laugh with joy—but that would be too much for a simple one night reunion, wouldn’t it? So instead he only grinned like a goofball, and began kissing her.
He pressed his lips to her mouth, her neck, her palm. He nibbled her earlobe, delighting in the way she wiggled with pleasure. After kicking away his discarded clothes, Riley started in on Jayne’s trail wear. Her socks were first (he tickled her toes), then her pants whisked to the floor.
Wearing only his white boxer briefs, he took a moment to savor the sight of Jayne dressed in nothing but her skimpy polka-dotted panties. Noticing his interest, she turned in a circle, modeling them for him. They were yellow—and baby blue, a combination that unreasonably cheered him. It turned out she’d been wearing her signature color all along.
“Those will have to go, of course,” he said, nodding toward her panties. They were sexy enough to require a warning label. “Better hurry. Your water’s getting cold.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You first.”
Her pointed glance indicated his briefs. The sassy gleam in her eyes made it plain she found his appearance every bit as appealing as he did hers. It was just like old times, Riley thought. Each of them hungry for the other…each of them daring the other to make the first move.
He shook his head and pulled her into his arms again. The press of her bare breasts against his chest made it hard to form a coherent thought, much less speak. But he did it. “It’s your bath. I insist you go first.”
“Ever the gentleman, hmmm?”
“You’ve got it.” He smiled. “Chivalry has its rewards.”
Slowly, Jayne gyrated against him. A moan escaped him. There was one of those rewards now. Nothing had ever felt this good. He tipped her head up and kissed her, then urged her toward the foamy tub. Rose petals floated in the water, barely visible amid the mounds of bubbles.
She abandoned their kiss reluctantly, her eyes heavy-lidded and dark with desire. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, she bent at the waist and whisked them off. Riley saw a flash of thigh, a delectable glimpse of derrière, and then the water splashed. Jayne sat in the tub, beckoning him in.
“Come on. The water’s wonderful.”
Doubtfully, he surveyed the tub. It would be a tight squeeze. To make room, she drew up her knees. She gave him an inviting smile.
Riley couldn’t resist. “You know, you have a way of making bubbles look awfully sexy.”
“How sexy?”
“I’ll show you.”
Fifteen minutes later, they’d successfully tested the limits of the washtub. It seemed two people could fit in the bath…so long as they were willing to be close. Very close. Luckily for Riley, there was nothing he wanted more than to be close with Jayne. Now. All night. Forever.
Hang on a minute…forever?
Hesitating with the soap in his hand and Jayne’s about-to-be-scrubbed back within reach, Riley balked. He didn’t want forever. He wasn’t a forever kind of guy. So what the hell?
Clearly, his feelings were being confused by all this closeness, by the pleasure of being with Jayne again. That was all. Feelings didn’t change what he knew to be true. Feelings didn’t change a person. After tonight, he’d return to his old self again. In the morning, he’d be eager to leave, ready to hit the trail, anxious for adventure.
To see, to do, to conquer, to enjoy.
Hell, yes.
And Jayne understood that, too. Hadn’t Carla just told him how skillfully Jayne was handling her temporary relationship with him?
Relieved, Riley went on soaping Jayne’s soft, smooth skin. Her little sigh of enjoyment as he slid slick fingers over her shoulder blades brought him all the way back to the moment at hand. This was going to be a night to remember, he reminded himself. It had to be. It was the night he would say goodbye to Jayne—for the last time, the way he should have long ago.
Tonight, he would give all he could to her. Because tomorrow…well, tomorrow didn’t exist for them. Tonight was everything.
Jayne fell backward onto the bed, laughing as Riley carried her down. The plush comforter pouffed around her. Her long wet hair (shampooed at
last!) puddled beneath her head and shoulders. Her damp skin prickled with goose bumps as the air stirred by their movements washed over her naked body.
She felt no embarrassment at her nudity, no shyness or selfconsciousness. Because she was with Riley. She’d always been comfortable with him. With him, she felt beautiful. Desirable. From the moment he’d unveiled his Mister Bubble-y surprise, being with him had felt right…just like old times.
“Hold still,” Riley instructed huskily. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Naked too, he wielded a towel. Grinning, he wedged his knee between her thighs for balance, then dexterously dried her hair. He smoothed every strand, touched her face tenderly with his hands, cradled her close for a kiss like all the others they’d shared. Passionate. Skillful. Loving.
Through it all, he was fully aroused, and the restraint he practiced drove her wild. What other man would have ignored an erection hard enough to hit a home run with, just for the sake of making sure her hair was untangled? What other man, except Riley, would have even understood her well enough to try?
Heedless of her unstyled tresses, Jayne writhed as he patted a terrycloth path down her body. He took his time, diligently absorbing every errant drop of water, every gleaming trace of soapsuds. She watched his face as he cared for her. His expression was intent, his eyes dark with desire and appreciation. His beard stubble had begun its nightly appearance, and its shadow lent his features a ruggedness and masculinity she loved.
Jayne ran her hand along his jaw, enjoying the faint prickly texture beneath her palm. She trailed her fingers lower, to his wide shoulders and chest. Apparently, adventure travel guiding provided a fierce workout, because Riley’s body was formed of the lean, solid muscle only real labor could endow. His chest and arms were perfect, his abdominals and thighs powerfully carved…exactly as she’d remembered. Possibly even better.
Giddy with the joy of being with him again, Jayne dipped her thumbs into the sexy hollow just below the tattoo at his hipbones, then lower in a teasing stroke. She admired Riley as he moved, taking in every dreamed-of inch of him. This night was hers, a reward for her bravery, a bonus for curing her own broken heart. Now that she was safe from falling for Riley, she meant to savor every single minute of time with him.
