by Jill Shalvis
He slid the Sidekick in his back pocket, the display still lit up, suggesting he had incoming messages and/or a phone call, all of which he ignored to squat and pat a stray dog on the steps of the building.
The dog, a mixture of black and white and grunge, rolled on its back and exposed its belly for more petting, its huge tongue lolling out of its head in ecstasy.
“Good boy,” the man said, taking a seat on the step in his well-fitting beige pants which meant he clearly didn’t do his own laundry. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
In answer, the dog drooled happily, his legs straight up in the air.
As Lily came level with them, they both looked up, the man letting out an easy smile.
Her parking spot savior.
2
IN RESPONSE to Lily’s surprise, the man’s mouth went from smile to grin, the kind that was instantly contagious, though she didn’t understand why. Because for her, a contagious smile came from a different sort of man entirely: a rebel, a guy who could and would transport her, make her wonder what was going to come next, give her a sense of…adventure.
This guy, in his pretty-boy clothes and pocket full of toys was cute enough, but her geek alert was beeping an alarm as loud as his Sidekick. “I didn’t need that parking spot,” she said.
“Okay.” He looked at her from hazel eyes that were more whiskey-brown than sea-green.
“You should have kept it for yourself.”
He seemed amused. “Not used to gift parking spots, huh?”
She wasn’t used to gift anythings.
Leaning in, he arched his brow. “A hint? The correct response is ‘thank you.’”
Damn it, he was right. She hated that. “Thank you,” she said, moving through the door he opened for her. “Twice.” She moved past him into the building’s lobby, refusing to notice how good he smelled, or that she could feel him watching her limp.
“You okay?” he asked, right on cue.
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m good.” To prove it, she moved past the elevators, toward the door to the stairs. “I’m going to take these since you spared me the trouble of having to hike in from Timbuktu.”
He laughed, a sound that seemed to come easily, and for some reason, she turned to look at him. Laugh lines fanned out from those interesting eyes, assuring her that he laughed often. “Glad I could save you the trouble,” he said. “Think of how much gas you’d have used going to Timbuktu and back.” His Sidekick beeped again, and he reached for it. “Excuse me. If I don’t get that, it self-destructs.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Yeah, it’s not pretty.”
Probably he couldn’t make a move without something beeping or requiring his attention, and she wondered how a guy like that ever went to bed with a woman. Did he bring all his toys and leave them on the nightstand when he stripped? Not that she cared, but it was an interesting image, him naked, holding his PDA, saying “excuse me, honey, hold that thought while I get a text message.”
While he worked, she did as she usually did with things that made her uncomfortable, she walked away, letting herself into the stairwell to begin the climb. Halfway up, she thought she was going to die, and had to bend down at the knees and gasp for breath, which really pissed her off.
Damned body.
When she finally made it to the offices, she opened Outdoor Adventure’s door and immediately took a deep breath. Ah, she remembered this place fondly. There were still maps, topos and photographs of places from all over the world on the walls. The maps were dotted with pins signifying where Keith and his guides had taken people. Once upon a time, she’d been the yellow pins, but someone else had taken that color. From all around her came a familiar sense of energy and excitement, and she was assaulted with memories.
The first time she’d set foot in here, she’d been awed and thrilled and…excited. During her interview, Keith had sat on his desk, right in front of her, larger than life, gorgeous and sexy. He’d agreed to teach her to guide that day, a promise he’d kept.
After she’d lost her virginity on that desk.
Now the reception area was filled with a group of people, drinking sodas and nibbling on munchies—the custom pre-trip meeting. She took in the faces, and then one in particular—Keith’s, and just like that, she was no longer quickly approaching her thirtieth birthday without a plan, but was a nervous eighteen-year-old.
“Lily,” he said, and crossed the room toward her. His sun-kissed-wheat hair was still long to his shoulders. His baby blues, always smiling, had a few more laugh lines, but as was typical of a man, they only added character. At five-ten, his body was still whipcord-lean and tough, ready for his next trip or climb or adventure or whatever.
One never knew with Keith.
It’d been part of his appeal. She waited for the onslaught of more emotions, but interestingly enough, they didn’t come, and that disappointed her even as she knew it was silly. What had she expected, to immediately be transported back to “herself”?
Maybe a little, she admitted, no matter how unrealistic that had been.
Keith put his hands on her arms and pulled her in, kissing one cheek, then the other, lingering with both far longer than social decorum called for.
Not that Keith had ever been concerned with social decorum. He’d always done what he wanted, when he wanted, never caring what anyone thought. That had been incredibly appealing to her back then, and she smiled now, leaning into him as if he could infuse her with his strength, his zest.
“You look amazing,” he said for her ears only, handing her a drink from a nearby tray. “Now let me introduce you to your group. Everyone,” he called out, stopping the light conversation and chatter in the room with just the one word, apparently clearly still carrying charisma around in spades. “This is Lily Peterson.” He squeezed her shoulder, smiled down into her face. “I’ve put her bio in your packet, but here’s your chance to meet her in person and ask her any questions you’ve stored up.”
Everyone began chattering at once, and Keith laughed.
Not Lily. She didn’t often get nervous. After all, she’d once been stuck on a mountain in a blizzard with no hopes of survival, and she’d gone down a class-six rapid and had her kayak break apart on the rocks all around her. Hell, she’d fallen off a cliff and broken her back, to be told she’d never walk again.
But this first meeting of people…this got to her. She took a quick sip of her drink and forced a smile. “Hello, everyone.”
“Let’s start with Rose McCall.” Keith gestured to the woman closest to Lily. “Rose is a real estate agent from downtown, and is looking for something new and fun to do with herself. Hence the hike.”
Rose waggled her fingers at Lily. Her nails were long and purple-tipped, encrusted with diamonds. “Looking forward to this, let me tell you.” She wore designer jeans, low on her curvy hips and so tight Lily had no idea how the woman moved. Her black halter top was covered in sparkles that matched her five-inch heels. Her carefully applied makeup masked her age, but Lily would have guessed late thirties.
The Woman on the Prowl, Lily thought as she shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Rose smiled. “Likewise. I have a question. How do you feel about sandals?”
“On the trail?”
“Yes. My feet like to be cool. My toes need to breathe.”
“Probably they’re going to want to breathe before and after the trip,” Lily said as diplomatically as she could. “Boots are definitely best.”
“Agreed,” Keith said, and with his hands on Lily’s shoulders, turned her toward the next group member. “And this here is Roland Rocklin.”
Roland was a twenty-something guy dressed in all in black from head to toe, black fatigues, black form-fitting T-shirt, black combat boots, and he was so gorgeous Lily actually blinked.
“Rock,” Roland corrected, and held out his hand, a movement that set off all kinds of rippling muscles to go with his engaging smile.
> “Wrestler?” Lily asked, thinking The Hottie. She’d never say her labels out loud, but she’d always had fun characterizing her groups. And she was already—shocking—having fun.
“Boxer,” Rock told her with a quick grin. “My trainer bought me this trip for my birthday, said I was a pansy-ass—er, a wuss if I didn’t make it to the end.”
“Oh, you’ll make it to the end,” Lily assured him. No one was giving up on her watch, not even her, not if it killed her. “We all will.”
“Good to hear.” Rock’s gaze slid over to Rose, who was retying her halter top. When the material slipped, she caught it just before exposing a nipple.
“Oops.” She laughed gustily. “Sorry, don’t mind me. But let me just say, I do like the idea of all of us getting to the…grand finish.”
Rock’s tongue fell out. Lily figured he was lucky he didn’t start drooling.
Keith cleared his throat. “Moving on. Lily, meet Jack and Michelle Moore.” He gestured to the young couple on the other side of Rose. They were both dressed to the nines, and built like they lived in a gym, not to mention California-perfect blond. “The trip is their one-year anniversary present from Michelle’s father.”
“Present…or torture rack,” Michelle said as they both shook Lily’s hand.
“No torture,” Lily assured her.
“Yeah. Um, I was wondering.” Michelle leaned in. “If there’s any way you could just pretend we went on this trip. You know, if my father asked.”
Lily blinked. “Pretend?”
“Don’t listen to her,” Jack said. “We’re going.” He looked at his wife. “You agreed to go so you don’t lose your allowance. If it’s that important to you, you go.”
Michelle sighed. “Fine. But…could we arrange for a later start time so we don’t have to get up quite so early?”
Lily shook her head. “I’m sorry, no. We have to leave at eight.”
Michelle pursed her perfectly glossed lips. “Eight is ungodly.”
“That may be, but we have a schedule. It’s the start time.”
“Huh.” She considered that a moment. “Well, what happens if someone’s…say, like, late?”
Lily glanced at Keith, who simply raised a brow. Passing the buck. Something he was good at, she remembered. He didn’t like to be the bad guy. “If you’re late,” she said gently but firmly. “You’ll probably get left.”
Michelle looked intrigued by that, but Jack shook his head. “Michelle.”
“Oh, fine. We’ll be there.”
Behind them, the office door opened, and in came…
“Ah,” Keith said, with a welcoming smile. “The last member of the group, Jared Skye.”
The man who gave up parking spots, stopped to pet stray dogs and opened doors for temperamental women now had a name.
He smiled at Lily, and the oddest thing…something happened low in her belly. It was a pit of knowledge—by the end of this trip, they would have a history, this man and herself. Somehow, in some way, she knew it.
She just didn’t like it.
He slipped out his earpiece and shook hands with Keith, who turned to Lily and brought her close to his side. “Jared, meet Lily, your guide.”
Jared looked startled for one moment before carefully masking it, probably wondering how someone with a handicap sticker could possibly be a hiking guide. That, or worse, he was thinking she was some sort of fraud, and Lily ground her back teeth and cursed herself all over again.
Keith handed Jared a drink. “A word of warning with this one, Jared.” He said this with a warm, intimate smile for Lily. “Don’t be late for the takeoff, or trust me, your beautiful guide here will leave you standing in the dust. I’ve been there myself.”
“I’ll be on time.” Jared tipped his glass toward Lily in a toast, eyes warm, smile genuine. “To a good start and a great trip.”
Again, she experienced an unsettling little sizzle, and she gave Jared Skye a second look as they all drank to his toast. Sure his eyes were compelling with that odd mix of chocolate and sea-green, and yes, he had that contagious smile which mixed self-deprecation and good humor, but those things weren’t enough.
Right?
Keith was dividing a glance between Jared and herself, as if he could feel the inexplicable electric current. “You two know each other?”
“Not exactly.” Jared smiled into Lily’s eyes. “But I’m guessing that this time I’ll be thanking you.”
“I haven’t taken you anywhere yet,” she said. “You might hate it.”
“You think so?”
She scanned his lanky frame, and was surprised to find her gaze lingering. His face was clean-shaven, and while not exactly pale, certainly not tanned and rugged from any amount of time spent outdoors. His clean athletic shoes had clearly never seen a trail. His glasses were slipping again, and she’d bet herself he’d lose them on the first day unless he put a leash on them.
No, he didn’t look like much of an outdoor guy. He looked more like an indoor, hunched-over-a-laptop guy, but before she could find a nice way to say so, something in one of his pockets beeped.
“More digital equipment?” she asked. “What a surprise.”
With a wry smile, he reached for the offending unit, flicking it off with his thumb without even looking at it. “Sorry.”
Keith shook his head. “You’re going to want to leave all that stuff behind, man.”
“Really?” Jared slipped the PDA back in his pocket. “Why’s that?”
“It takes away from the outdoor experience.”
Jared turned to Lily, his glasses providing just enough of a glare that she couldn’t quite read his eyes, even though she had a feeling he had no such problem reading her.
And again, an inappropriate zing of…something surged through her. Crazy. She really did prefer a stronger, tougher, more seasoned man, someone who knew his way on a trail, who could climb a mountain, kayak a rapid, someone with a love of an adrenaline rush. Someone like…Keith.
And yet she didn’t experience that little frisson of heat when Keith looked at her…
Huh.
Jared was still smiling easily. “So you don’t think I look like the camping, hiking type.”
“I’m not here to judge you, just to guide you.”
“Come on, tell the truth.”
“Okay, no. Sorry. You don’t seem outdoorsy to me. But I still think you’re going to have a lot fun.”
Sipping his drink, he watched her from those intensely gripping hazel eyes. “One thing I’ve learned is that looks can be deceiving.”
And in maybe the most surprising thing of all, yet another thrill went through her, because suddenly, strangely, she hoped so.
THAT NIGHT, Jared Skye lay in his bed staring at his ceiling, thinking about what he’d done. A confirmed city rat, he’d taken a week off work, a rarity, to go on a trip. Not just any trip, but a camping trip, with rocks and bugs and no running water.
Definitely not the norm for him. In fact, he’d never slept outdoors, not once in his thirty-two years.
But if life had taught him anything lately, it was to go with the flow, and try the path less traveled. To seize whatever the day brought, especially if the day brought a slightly irritating, self-protective, sexy-as-hell guide leader into it.
This year he’d been given a second chance, a hell of a second chance, when he hadn’t died as he should have. As a result, he no longer waited for things to happen. He made them happen. And that meant when he saw something of interest, he did what it took to get it.
Lily Peterson interested him.
It wasn’t just a gotta-have-you naked interest either, though that had definitely been there, too. But a gotta-know-you-deeper interest.
With a woman his polar opposite.
It might seem completely illogical, this attraction, not to mention out of character, but since he no longer depended on logic to get him through the day, he didn’t care.
Nope, it was all about living to
the fullest, logic not withstanding…
When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed—no surprise—of his trekking guide, with her vulnerable eyes, with the polite smile she wore to hide her thoughts, with her tough little body that he wanted arching and writhing beneath his…
No surprise then that he woke up hot and bothered, and he had to laugh at himself, even as he wished he could dive back into the dream…
Instead he got up. His first camping trip was going to be even more interesting than he’d thought.
LILY SAT straight up in bed, panting for breath and just a little bit sweaty.
She’d dreamed of being in a kayak, fighting another kayak for the best spot on the river. The best kayaker she knew was Keith, but it turned out not to be Keith out there with her, but a guy with impeccable dressing habits, and neat, short hair and designer glasses, a guy with a rather goofy, contagious grin and a rangy body that wasn’t sure or coordinated.
Jared Skye, still disturbing her.
She got up, showered away the aches and pains and lingering stiffness she’d never had before her forty-foot fall, telling herself better to feel pain than to be six feet under, feeling nothing at all.
She dressed and went to physical therapy, where she was laid flat as always by Eric, who’d missed his calling and should instead have been working for the government torturing war prisoners for information. She showered again, dressed again, and then shopped and packed for the trip, telling herself the butterflies in her stomach were hunger pains, not nerves.
But the nerves were there, quietly eating her alive.
After going over the topo maps, marking everywhere on the trail she wanted to hit, with alternate plans for unforeseen events such as one of the hikers not being able to get as far as she’d planned—or God forbid, herself—she drove to Outdoor Adventures to coordinate for the supply and canoe drops along the loop they’d be walking.
But instead of an assistant she got Keith himself, with his mischievous smile and teasing voice that brought her back. When they were done, he hugged her good-bye, letting his hands linger and his body press against her for just a beat longer than necessary.
