The California Club: LoveTravel Series - USA

by Belinda Jones

  'Well I couldn't make a career of it but yeah, I like to climb. It’s the bride who’s the real El Cap freak-'

  'El what?' I interrupt.

  'EI Capitan, you must have heard of it – world's largest granite monolith?'

  I look blank.

  'Ninety-six per cent sheer rock-face … You've seen all those Ansel Adams photographs, right?'

  I make a noncommittal grunt and, in a bid to distract him from my ignorance, ask if he's climbed it.

  'Sure! Jen and I used to race each other up!'

  'Is she an ex of yours?' I say, getting onto the more important details.

  He nods. ‘We were together a year – that's pretty hardcore for me!’

  ‘So what are the odds of you yelling, "Don't marry him, marry me!" in church?'

  'That's not going to happen,' he smiles. 'We ran our course.'

  Hmmm. Must be nice to feel something is done, that you've had your fill, I think to myself. I'm always leaving the table wanting more.

  'You know, she originally wanted to get married halfway up, hanging from a ledge,' Joel continues.

  'Can you do that?'

  'Oh yeah! But her ninety-year-old grandmother wasn't keen.'

  'Funny that,' I frown. 'So where are they having the ceremony now?'

  'At the Awahnee Hotel. Do you know it?'

  I shake my head.

  'It's this great old mountain lodge, built in the Twenties. The décor is all Native American.'

  'Sounds cool.'

  'Some people think it's cheating – you know, coming out to the wilderness and then staying in a luxury hotel-but come the end of the day, I like my creature comforts without the creatures!'

  'Oh me too! I'm supposed to be staying in a tent tonight but the thought of it in this weather …' I shudder.

  'Are you visiting someone?'

  'Yes,' I nod, swallowing back my tale of unrequited love. I'm not quite sure if I'm keeping schtum to protect him from girltalk babble or because I want to seem available because I fancy him. Interesting …

  Joel waits a few seconds and then says, 'Is that all you're prepared to say on the subject?'

  'Not necessarily,' I squirm, trying to focus on the river, racing to our left. For a moment I'm transfixed by the icy-green froth thrown up as it bounces over the rocks in its path, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

  'How about we play twenty questions?' he suggests.

  'You can have five,' I allow.

  'Okay but you have to tell the truth,' he insists.

  'Go ahead,' I say, feeling a little wary.

  'Is it a guy you're staying with?'

  'Yes.'

  'Thought so. Boyfriend?'

  'No.'

  'But you want him to be your boyfriend?'

  I hesitate. Am I ruining my chances – however microscopic – if I say yes?

  'Yes or no?' he pressures.

  'Yes,' I blurt.

  'But there's an obstacle of some kind?'

  'Yes,' I confirm.

  'A big one?'

  'About ten stone, I reckon.'

  'A-ha! Ten of your British stones would be 140 of our American pounds so we're talking a person here. Most likely a woman.'

  'Do you want a yes or no to that?' I check.

  'No – wait up, I have to use my last question wisely. Is she here in Yosemite, too?'

  'No.'

  'Are you interested in making him jealous?'

  'That's six.'

  ‘Actually that's a different kind of question altogether. I'm offering you my services …' He gives me a sly look.

  I study him a little closer. If you were looking for a guy to make another man jealous he would do nicely – strong physical presence, confident manner, cool clothes, big car. He's perfect.

  'It wouldn't work.' I shake my head.

  'Hey, I can make a pretty attentive suitor-slash-love rival you know.' Joel looks put out.

  'He just doesn't see me that way. Whatever you did, it wouldn't change his mind.'

  'But that's what you're here for, right?' he ventures.

  I can't deny it.

  'Is this' he waves a hand over my spangles 'get-up an attempt to change his image of you? Or is this how you normally dress?'

  I can't help but laugh. Joel is being so sweet and patient with me.

  'If I had something else to change into I would,' I tell him. 'But my suitcase is still at LA airport.’

  ‘Well, I can easily lend you something but personally I think you should rock up and give him the works – you never know.' Joel winks.

  I shake my head. 'He'll just laugh.’

  'Don't be so sure – you look hot! Do you think I would have stopped for you if you'd just been in jeans?'

  I give him a playful punch.

  'Seriously, I think any man would find you pretty hard to resist right now.'

  My heart does a little flip. And I can still feel the sensation of his super-toned biceps on my knuckles. All my quippy sarcasm deserts me in favor of a good old-fashioned 'Take me now!' sensation.

  'Great! It's still open!' Joel's attention shifts to a tin-roofed trading post on the roadside. 'This is my favorite store. I just need to get a few provisions. You coming in?'

  I look down at my bottom half and then back at him.

  'Okay, you stay put. I'll be back in five.'

  'With snacks?' I ask, hopefully.

  ‘As much beef jerky as you can stomach!' he teases.

  ‘Is there a chance they’d have teabags?’ I call after him.

  'If they've got them, they're yours!'

  Making sure he's safely in the shop, I unzip the fleece and peer down inside. Could this outfit really do the trick? If only. At least it's had some kind of effect on Joel. I wonder what kind of girls he usually goes for? I hope Jen isn't typical - she sounds all too Pepsi Max for my liking. What kind of woman wants to get married hanging from a rope? I'm just about to start rifling through his CDs when I get a mischief spasm and find myself jumping out of the car and scurrying around the back to hide without even really knowing why.

  Five minutes later he emerges from the shop. I hear him open his car door and then stop.

  'Lara?' He turns around to search for me and DUMPF! Direct hit! Right in the mouth. I rub my chilled hands together as he spits out the snow.

  'Oh-ho-ho, you'll be sorry,' he says, dumping his brown grocery bag on the car seat and tearing after me.

  Before he can fill his hands with snow I hit him again, this time in the chest – left pec, ten points. I've already prepped an arsenal and have a serious advantage but it doesn't stop me screeching like a banshee when he lobs one at me.

  'Gotcha!' he cackles, delighted that he's ruined half my movie-star hair with his first shot.

  The second of Joel's missiles knocks me off my feet. I watch as the offending snowball falls to the ground, still intact and streaked red with my lip gloss. Stunned, I wipe the remainder from my face.

  That's not blood, is it?' Joel blanches, rushing to my side.

  I nod, looking like I'm about to cry.

  'Let me look,' he frets, tilting my face towards his. As he inspects my mouth I reach up and shove a handful of snow down the back of his shirt.

  'You evil little witch!' he howls as I wriggle free.

  Now it's gone beyond snowballs – we're just scooping up great armfuls of powdery snow, more akin to a water fight. Staggering backwards to duck a dousing I trip on my train and splat into the snow, pulling him on top of me. Unintentionally, honest. I try and writhe free, knowing he's going to wreak an icy revenge any second.

  'Now I've got you!' He looms over me.

  I start frantically kicking and screaming, 'Get off! Help!' I struggle and strain. 'Aaaaaaaaghhh!' I squeal as he gives me a crushed ice collar.

  'STOP!'

  Suddenly his weight is lifted off me and I see him yanked back by the scruff of his neck as a familiar voice cries: 'What the hell is going on?'

  Panting,
I sit up and push my soppy, straggled hair from my eyes.

  'Elliot!' I wheeze.

  'Lara?' He reels.

  Joel looks more intrigued than ever as he shrugs himself free from Elliot's rough grasp.

  'I was just coming to meet you!' I blurt. 'What are you doing here?'

  'We got a report of an abandoned car near Wawona, I was worried it might be you.'

  'It was! Were you coming to rescue me?' I ask, feeling either dreamy or mildly concussed, I'm not sure which.

  His look softens. 'Thought I might return the favor,' he smiles. I flash back to the surf drama and Elliot's absence of trunks and feel quite dizzy with desire. For a millisecond I could swear he's feeling the same way but then the state of me distracts him. ‘So what exactly is going on here?' he frowns, shooting a dirty look at my burly assailant.

  'Oh, this is Joel.'

  'Do you two know each other?'

  'Know each other? Haven't you heard? We're engaged!' Joel lunges at me and waves the ruby clunker on my wedding finger under his nose.

  Elliot looks utterly bewildered.

  'Not really!' I say, reaching out to Elliot but his look doesn't change. Before I can explain further, a real-deal park ranger appears by Elliot's side.

  'Everything okay, son?'

  'Yes, Mr Gediman – this is Lara.'

  I shake his hand, apologizing: 'I don't normally look like this.'

  'It's her car,' Elliot continues. ‘The abandoned vehicle.’

  ‘Are you all right, miss?'

  'I'm fine. Joel rescued me.'

  Elliot looks a little put out.

  'Great, well, I'll go ahead and get the car off the road. Elliot, why don't you get a ride back to camp with your friends?'

  'Urm…'

  That's okay,' Joel assures him. 'Plenty of room in the jeep.'

  Still he's reluctant: 'I don't want to put you out – where are you headed?'

  'I'm staying at the Awahnee,' Joel announces, as he slots behind the wheel.

  'Of course you are,' I hear Elliot mutter as he finds himself in a rather unfamiliar position – taking the back seat.

  Chapter 22

  ‘Welcome to the Ahwahnee,' the uniformed valet parker greets us as we pull up in front of the hotel entrance. 'Please ensure that all food items are removed from the vehicle before you head on your way.’

  'We didn't have any in the first place,' I lament. And then I remember the convenience shack stop.

  'Joel! Where're the snacks?'

  'In the seat-well,' he remembers. 'Good call.'

  'Is this yours?' The valet rattles a box of Celestial Seasonings at me.

  'It's just a few herbal teabags,' I explain. He's looking at me as though he just found a kilo of cocaine.

  'The bears will tear the car apart if they smell them,' he growls. 'You have to take them with you.'

  'Okay,' I bleat. No refreshing cup of Orange Zinger for the bears tonight, then.

  ‘He's exaggerating, surely?' I hiss at Elliot as we follow Joel down a wooden-log walkway lined with gold lanterns and hanging baskets.

  'Actually, no,’ he replies. ‘They get about four hundred bear break-ins here each summer.'

  'You're kidding!' I have visions of teams of bears in balaclavas moving around the parking lots after dark, methodically inspecting every vehicle with a flashlight.

  ‘They go for anything, even a scented lip balm!'

  They eat lip balm?' I'm incredulous.

  Elliot rolls his eyes. 'They think it’s fruit or sweets from the smell.'

  ‘Ohhh!’

  'And it's not as if they replace your car door when they realize they've got it wrong,' he warns.

  'You seem to be getting into the swing of things,' I smile.

  'Don't be fooled. I'm still hoping you've arranged to get us air-lifted out of here!'

  The cranberry carpet of the walkway leads us to the cold stone floor of the lobby. There are tribal patterns stenciled beneath my feet and lampshades of taut animal hide in the lounge area. I appreciate these authentic details and note with bemusement that there's what looks like a confession box next to reception. Maybe Elliot and I can sneak back later for a game of priest and sinner – 'I know you are promised to another but I must have you!'

  'Do you guys want to go ahead to the bar while I check-in?' Joel suggests.

  'We'll just stay for one,' I reassure Elliot as we wander through. 'I've got to at least buy him a beer for saving me.'

  Elliot still seems a little prickly on the subject and laments: 'Bet you wish you were staying here.'

  I go to protest but nothing comes out.

  'I know I do,' Elliot mumbles.

  'Nevermind, we'll have fun at Camp Elton,' I assure him, reminding him that we decided that every time we referred to his camp we would re-name it in honor of a fabulous homosexual.

  'I was going to do us a barbecue but I'm not sure I can get the fire started in this weather.'

  My stomach yawps in anguish.

  'Okay, you two, I've made a dinner reservation for 8pm, my treat!' Joel appears behind us. 'That's if you'd care to join me?’

  Elliot and I exchange a 'should we?' look. I daren't be the first to say yes – I don't want to spoil Elliot's plans – but part of me is thinking: Thank you sweet Jesus – rescued for the second time in one day!

  'Come on, why suffer unless you absolutely have to?' Joel reasons.

  When Elliot acquiesces with a simple, 'Oh go on, then!' I feel a thrill of anticipation. Dinner with two gorgeous men – what could be better?

  'Can I get you a drink?' Elliot offers Joel.

  I smile, feeling proud as he does the next-best-thing on the manly list.

  'Sure, just give me five minutes to run up to the room and dump my stuff.' Joel then turns to me: 'Lara, do you wanna grab a hot shower?'

  My eyes widen – I can't believe he's being so forward!

  'W-w—?' I stammer.

  He nods over to the mirror above the bar. Robert Smith from The Cure stares back at me. Quickly I try to wipe away the smeary lipstick from my face but only succeed in staining my hand red. I'm a mess.

  And maybe we could find you something more suitable to wear?' he adds.

  Until now I didn't care that I was half-fleece, half-sequins but people are beginning to stare.

  'I think it might be a good idea,' I concede.

  'Although I kinda like seeing you in my clothes!' Joel reaches for the fleece zipper and pulls me towards him. 'Shall we?'

  Could he be any more flirtatious? I don't know what to do with myself.

  'I'll wait here.' Elliot turns away and stares intently at the cocktail menu.

  As soon as we're out of his earshot Joel whoops, 'It's gonna be a cinch!'

  'What is?'

  'Having him fall in love with you,' Joel taunts.

  'Don't say that!'

  'He's halfway there already.'

  'I know he loves me as a friend but—'

  'Trust me. We can do this,' Joel asserts.

  'Okay,' I blink.

  Right now I'd believe anything he says – I feel utterly in his power and if that hot shower happens to come complete with him as a human loofah I won't be complaining.

  'After you.' Joel motions me into the crowded lift then, just as the doors squeeze closed, he booms, 'Can I have my fleece back now please?' over-enunciating to be certain everyone hears his request.

  I look at him. Surely he can't mean now now.

  He makes a 'gimme' motion with his fingers.

  If he thinks he can humiliate me by making me reveal my glittering torso in a lift populated by conservatively dressed sixty-somethings, he's right. But I do it anyway. I feel he's earned a thrill at my expense.

  'That was priceless!' Joel wipes a tear from his eye as we career down the corridor to his room.

  I'm laughing too but more from nerves than the image of the neck-cricking double-takes I prompted it's been a long time since I was alone with a man of such blatant se
xuality.

  The room is chintzy-grand with two heavy king beds, a pair of winged armchairs and a cherry wood table set with a bottle of Merlot and a fancy cheese and fruit platter.

  'Help yourself!' Joel says, knowing I'm so hungry I could eat one of the scatter cushions.

  'You've got a balcony!' I say, sending splinters of water biscuit into the carpet.

  I step out, only to recoil instantly from the cold. I'd forgotten we were experiencing the Ice Age.

  'You must be frozen to the core.' Joel captures me and vigorously rubs my arms. 'Don't worry, we have ways of making you warm!'

  My eyes stray to the nearest bed. What is it about this man that has me wanting to get wanton? One slight innuendo and I'm wondering what the possibilities might have been if Elliot wasn't waiting downstairs. Elliot. I feel a shimmy of disloyalty but then remind myself that I'm a free agent. He's never exhibited any carnal interest in me, unlike Joel.

  'Ready for that shower?'

  I nod.

  He leads me to the bathroom and pushes open the door. I step inside then turn to face him, my hand is on the handle but I'm reluctant to close the door in his face. He holds my gaze, looking intrigued rather than wolfish, then smiles, 'Well, much as I'd love to stay and watch …' and retreats into the room.

  As I turn the lock I struggle to suppress a whimper of lust, settling instead for a flamenco clatter of heels on the tiled floor. He's so sexy! I try and shake the feeling from my limbs for fear of becoming possessed and concentrate instead on the way the tiny hexagon tiles on the walls create a lovely whitewashed honeycomb effect. Better yet, the glass shelf above the sink is crammed with 'we-can-rebuild-you' mini beauty products.

  I grab the bottles of juniper shampoo and matching body lotion and stick my head around the door. 'Is it okay if I use these?'

  Joel looks up from unsheathing a black evening suit and grins: 'Knock yourself out!'

  I dip back into the bathroom and set the shower running. This is such a bonus. If I had gone with Elliot I'd probably be cowering behind a canvas sheet having the contents of a watering-can emptied over me. I reach around to undo my dress but even backed up into the mirror I can't judge hooks and eyes. Frustration! I twist and arch and even try pulling the skirt part up over my head but then realize the potential horror of getting it stuck above my waist like a giant version of those neck cones people put on dogs to stop them biting themselves. There's only one thing for it – call in the experts.