She shrugged. “Could be. I intend to take a lot of cool pictures in addition to documenting the group’s research. I’ll let readers draw their own conclusions about whether or not Bigfoot is real or a hoax. To keep the magazine’s core supporters happy, I’ll mix in plenty of information on the area’s flora and fauna along with spectacular photos. The Bigfoot angle is a twist to draw in a new group of readers. The marketing department is all over it.”
He grinned. “Claire Templeton, does the heart of a rebel beat beneath that proper façade?”
She glanced down. “What’s so proper about jeans and a T-shirt?”
“It’s the look but don’t touch aura you project.”
“Hmm. Is that why your hands are jammed in your pockets?”
He nodded. “It helps me resist temptation and maintain my good guy persona. I wouldn’t want you to think I grew up to be the sort of man who preys on lone, defenseless women.”
“I’m not defenseless. I took classes. Besides, Scoop isn’t just a pretty face. If you threatened me, he’d rip your arm off.”
“Good to know. I’m in favor of keeping that mutt happy.”
“You have something against dogs?”
“Only ones who look at me like I’m on the dinner menu.”
Claire didn’t blame Scoop one bit. The man was drool-worthy. She licked dry lips and turned when the beach ended at a rock cliff jutting into the water. They started back the way they’d come.
“Do you plan to camp with this research group?”
She glanced over. “Not right away, although I may spend the night out there at some point. I have an appointment with the director tomorrow, so I’ll know more after that.”
“I’d give my left—uh, arm to see a Bigfoot. Can I tag along?”
Pressing a hand to her mouth, she couldn’t hold back a giggle. “You sound exactly like the ten-year-old boy I remember. I’ll tell them I have an associate and ask permission for you to join me on any expeditions.”
“Hot damn!”
The giggle erupted in a laugh. “You know it’s all probably a big, fat farce, right?”
“Sure, but what if it isn’t?”
“What if Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy are real?”
“If you’re such a skeptic, why’re you writing the story?”
“I’m writing about the process of hunting for a Bigfoot…and photographing a beautiful area of California. Anyway, I have an open mind.” She swept a hand toward the forested hills rising away from the coast. “Who knows, any number of things could be hiding out there.”
He reached over to snag her hand and squeeze. A tingle shot up her arm then fluttered around in her chest before moving on to heat her southern regions.
“This is great, Claire. Running into you just made my week.” His grip tightened. “Unless you want me to take a hike, so to speak? If you’d prefer not to have company, I’ll understand.”
“I enjoy my dog, but having someone around who talks back is better.” When he released her, she hesitated then stuffed her fist into the windbreaker pocket. “Okay, maybe not always better, but I’m looking forward to hanging out with you. Evening campfires should be a shared experience.”
He stopped when they reached the trail to the parking area. “You’re okay with continuing our get-reacquainted session at the campground? I don’t want to be pushy or assume anything.”
“You’re not. We’re both alone, so why not join forces?”
Brushing a strand of hair off her cheek, his finger moved in a soft caress. She held her breath until his hand fell away.
They turned together to walk side-by-side up the path from the beach, their arms touching.
“I like the sound of that. I’m pretty handy to have around camp. I promise you won’t regret teaming up.”
A hint of doubt crept to the surface. Once before, leaving Jed had broken her heart. She couldn’t help wondering how the woman she’d become would fare when they parted ways this time. Looking into blue eyes full of light and laughter, she shrugged. It was a risk she was more than willing to take.
* * * *
At last!
He straightened in his seat and started the engine as a motor home rolled through town with Claire in the driver’s seat and a big, brown mutt riding shotgun. With a smile stretching his lips, he pulled onto the street behind an older SUV.
She was finally here. As he’d hoped, the pull of a Bigfoot story was too strong for her to ignore. After waiting an eternity, they’d be together the way she’d promised all those years ago.
He was counting on her to keep her word.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he kept some distance between their vehicles then slowed when the RV pulled off the road into the lot of the supermarket on the far end of town. He edged up to the curb and parked. Turning in his seat, he held his breath as Claire stepped from the motor home and pushed the door shut behind her. Rays of late afternoon sun highlighted her beautiful blond hair.
The smile slipped from his face when she walked toward a man—one of those grunts who spent all his time in the gym from the looks of him—who slammed the door to the SUV that had been following her. What the hell? Claire wasn’t dating anyone. He’d kept close tabs on her over the last few months as the big day drew closer, and he was one hundred percent positive there was no significant man in her life. Surely she hadn’t picked up some guy on the drive to Shady Bend? One-night stands weren’t her style.
His hands clenched around the wheel as the two strolled side-by-side into the store. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, practicing the calming techniques his shrink had taught him. No point in panicking until he knew all the facts. No point in panicking, period. He’d simply adjust his plan to deal with any new circumstances.
Long minutes ticked by before Claire emerged carrying a bag of groceries. The stranger was still with her. He smacked his fist against the dashboard then closed his eyes and breathed deep. Opening them, he turned the key in the ignition and slouched lower in his seat when the woman he’d waited for—forever—drove past. Painful emotions churned in his gut as he flipped on his blinker to follow her through town. When she turned down the road leading to Towering Trees Campground, he continued past. Now was not the time to confront her. First, they’d get to know each other again. Maybe he’d leave a few more reminders of her promise.
Everything would have been perfect if the damned SUV hadn’t turned toward the campground right behind her. No matter. No one, certainly not some fly-by-night boy toy, was going to stop him from getting what he wanted—the beautiful Claire. Not this time.
Chapter 2
Jed pounded in the last stake then pitched his sleeping bag, thermal pad and duffle bag into the tent. Stepping back, he stumbled over Scoop and lunged against the corner of the picnic table to break his fall.
“Damn!” He glared at the oversized mutt.
Every time he turned around, the dog was behind him. He couldn’t decide if it was a case of canine infatuation or the hound’s version of keeping his enemies closer.
Now, if Claire chose to follow his every move the way she had when she was a girl, he certainly wouldn’t complain. For a ten-year-old boy, her hero worship had been irritating at times but more often a source of secret pleasure. Even then, she’d been a cute little thing. Now there was an underlying layer of sexy that made his mouth go dry every time she smiled.
Especially when she smiled. He drew in a sharp breath.
There was something special about Claire. Her delicate beauty tugged on his heart…and wouldn’t his brother die laughing if he could hear that sentiment.
Letting out a grunt, he shook his head. Jesus, he was thinking like a girl. Time to man up and chop firewood or something.
“Move over, Scoop.” Giving the dog a push out of his way, he headed into the trees along the backside of the campground to forage for dead limbs. Returning with an armload,
he dropped them beside the open fire ring and snuck a glance toward the motor home. Soft humming drifted through the open window along with an occasional burst of singing. What the hell was she doing in there—he glanced at his watch—for the last twenty-eight minutes and fourteen seconds?
The door opened, and Claire stepped out carrying a bowl in one hand and a plate topped with chicken breasts coated with some sort of marinade in the other.
“I made a salad. Shall we grill these?” She set her load onto the picnic table.
“Sounds good to me.”
She’d changed into athletic pants that hugged every curve of her body, along with a soft fleece top. His fingers twitched as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
Mind out of the gutter, Lafferty.
“I have a gas hibachi and propane canisters in my car. I’ll get them.”
He gave himself a mental slap as he opened the back of the SUV to pull out the covered grill. She wasn’t the type of woman you hit on a few hours after meeting, even if they did have a history together.
He carried the hibachi back to the picnic table and set it up. “What else are we having?”
She gave him a blank look.
“You know, to fill up on. Potatoes, pasta, rice, bread?”
“Uh, I’ll be full with just chicken and salad.”
He patted his stomach. “I’d be starving again before bedtime. I have a stockpile of boxed pasta meals. I live on those things. It’ll only take a few minutes to whip one up.”
“They’re full of sodium.”
“Who’re you, the health food police? They taste great.”
“Knock yourself out. You can use the stove in the motor home if you want.”
“I have a camp stove.”
After a second trip to the rear end of his SUV, he hauled back a tub full of pots and dishes and another one loaded with nonperishable foods, along with the stove. Minutes later the pasta was bubbling and the chicken sizzling.
Claire sat in a canvas camp chair and stroked her dog’s ears. “You seem awfully handy in the kitchen.”
“Yep. I’m competent at most everything I do on a regular basis. Sometimes more than competent.”
“I bet.”
Were her cheeks pinker than they’d been a moment before? Did she think he was alluding to his skill in bed? Or was he the only one with sex on the brain? Heat crept up his neck as he searched for a new subject.
“Where do you live when you aren’t driving around the country in search of the perfect picture?”
“Right now, nowhere.”
The spoon stilled, suspended over the pot. “Huh?”
“I was renting a little cottage north of San Francisco. When the owner died, his family put the house on the market. It sold in about two seconds.”
“They booted you out?”
“Sixty days’ notice. I put all my furniture in storage and am living in the motor home for the summer. I should think about getting another place once I wrap up this story. It’s already the middle of September….” She shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t decided where exactly I want to live, which is why I’m still traveling around like a nomad. All I know is I’d like to make this move permanent. I’ve spent most of my life never belonging anywhere, and frankly I’m sick of it.”
“Don’t you have to be near your work?”
“The magazine has headquarters in New York, Chicago and San Francisco. I only stop by the West Coast office once or twice a month since everything I do is online for the most part. When someone needs to speak to me, they pick up a phone. Occasionally I meet face to face with my editor to go over details or get her approval for a story idea if I feel an in-person appeal will produce better results. Bottom line, I can pretty much live wherever I want.”
“Food’s ready.” He served the chicken and set the plates on the picnic table. “Sure you don’t want some pasta?”
She sat down on the bench then heaped salad on her plate. “Maybe a small helping. I’m pretty hungry.”
“I’d be half dead if I ate what you did for lunch.” He dropped a spoonful of noodles next to her chicken then sat across from her. “So, where are you considering establishing your home base?”
“I imagine I’ll stay somewhere in Northern California. Definitely a small town. I’ve lived in cities before and wasn’t much of a fan. I like the ocean.”
He glanced up from his meal. “How about mountains? Do you like those?”
“I do in the summer. Winters…” She wiggled her hand back and forth. “I went on a couple of ski trips to the Sierras when I was in college. I spent most of the day picking myself up off the snow.”
His gaze roamed from her face downward, and he cleared his throat. “You look athletic. I bet you’d learn fast with a few lessons. Where’d you go to college?”
“Cal Berkeley. How about you?”
“I stayed in Reno and went to the university there for a couple of years before I dropped out. All I wanted to do was spend my time outside. It finally dawned on me that planning a career which would lead to working indoors was just plain foolish. I’d have been miserable.”
“Obviously you aren’t.”
“Nope. I love what I do—or did. I’ll figure out something new to keep me busy in the summer. I’m great at thinking outside the box. As for winters, I’m set. I spend my days skiing in the backcountry with other Nordic enthusiasts who want an experienced guide. I’ve been working out of the same shop for years, and I get a lot of repeat customers. I make enough to meet my needs, and that’s all I care about.”
“Sounds perfect for you.”
“Might be better if I had someone to come home to at night.”
She laid down her fork. “I’m pretty sure women stampede when you snap your fingers. You aren’t exactly hideous to look at.”
He grinned. “Not as fast as they run in the opposite direction once they get a taste of my lifestyle. I live in a two-room cabin with no neighbors within shouting distance. During winter, the place is literally buried in snow.”
“Gee, you make it sound so attractive.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. Most relationships haven’t lasted longer than a month.”
“You didn’t care about any of those women enough to change?”
“Not yet.” He pushed back his empty plate and stood. “It’s chilly tonight and getting dark fast. I’ll start a fire.”
“I’ll wash the dishes while you’re building one.”
Turning, he laid a hand on her arm and squeezed. “We make a good team.”
“Hmm…the jury’s still out. Any man who lives someplace that requires shoveling to get out the front door has to be a little crazy. It’s going to take more than good looks to compensate for being snowbound six months of the year.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
Her brows shot up. “Oh?”
“By the time you finish your Bigfoot story, my list of sterling qualities will far exceed the negatives. Just wait and see.”
* * * *
Claire leaned back in her chair, propped her booted feet on a rock outside the fire ring and tucked her chilled hands into her pockets. The fire crackled and snapped. Above the dark shadows of towering trees, stars filled the night sky.
“You’re sure you don’t want a s’more? I’ll toast the marshmallow.”
“Positive.”
Jed shook his head. “When it comes to food, you’re absolutely no fun at all. It’s not like you need to watch your weight. You’re tiny.”
“I’d like to stay that way. Besides, all that sugar and fat is bad for you.”
“I work off the calories, and I’m disgustingly healthy. I have good genes.”
“Is that supposed to be a mark in the positive column?”
He pressed a graham cracker down over a beautifully browned marshmallow and slid out the stick. “Why not? You wouldn’t want to pass along any wimpy genes to your
kids.”
“True.”
“Enough about me. I want to hear all about the near miss you had with marriage.”
She suppressed a smile. “Why?”
“Well, duh. If I’m going to lure you to my snowbound cabin, I need to know what turns you off.”
“Is that your goal?”
“Sure. You can cook and clean and…do other things to keep me happy all winter.”
Rolling her eyes, she reached for the chocolate bar sitting between them and broke off a square. Popping it into her mouth, she savored the rich flavor. “Are you ever serious?”
“On occasion. Spill it. Who’d you almost marry?”
“Not almost. Remember that ski trip I mentioned while I was in college? My boyfriend talked me into eloping to Reno.”
He juggled the s’more, swore then sucked on his marshmallow coated thumb. “Why’d you do something stupid like that? How old were you?”
“Nineteen. He was twenty-three. My parents were living in North Dakota—don’t ask why—and I hadn’t seen them in nearly a year. Ian was a grad student. I met him when he was a teaching assistant in one of my classes. He was finishing his master’s and planned to move to Seattle where he already had a job lined up.” She shrugged. “I was feeling a bit lonely and left behind.”
“So you actually married him?”
“Yep. I was already regretting it before the Elvis impersonator who performed the ceremony told him to kiss the bride. It wasn’t until the next day…” She pressed her lips together.
His warm hand covered hers where it rested on the chair arm. “What happened?”
“For some reason, I insisted he drive by our old house. I told him I wanted to show him where I used to live. Your mom was on her front porch doing something with a bunch of pinecones—”
“She made Christmas decorations out of them.”
“I broke down and started crying. All I could think about was how nice she’d been to me and how much I’d missed you after we moved….” She drew in a long breath. “Ian probably thought I was a complete loon. Anyway, our parents freaked when we told them, and I had their full support when I went to court to get the marriage annulled. Everyone but Ian was completely relieved when it was over.”
Every Vow She Breaks Page 2
