Wednesday had rolled around, turning into Thursday and then Friday with no word from him. Her days and nights had been filled with work, yes, but she could have at least fit in a lunch with him.
“Why haven’t you called?” she asked.
He shielded his eyes from the sun. “I thought it was obvious.”
She shook her head.
“This is me not pressuring you,” he said. “If it were up to me, we’d be moving at warp speed. But I meant what I said. I’m willing to go at your pace.”
She couldn’t imagine another man who’d been kissed the way she’d kissed Dan on Tuesday night being as understanding.
Then again, it became clearer to her by the day that in Dan she’d found someone special.
She’d told her mother she couldn’t afford to fall in love with him. The real question was whether she could pass up the chance to see where things between them might lead.
It didn’t have to end with her leaving town. Even if her father did go to the police, that didn’t mean the law would find them. She and Chris had been in Indigo Springs for almost a year. The town might be the best place to hide.
“What are you doing for the rest of the weekend?” she asked abruptly.
“Let’s see. After I finish my run, I was thinking about a shower.” He shrugged. “And that’s about the extent of my plans. Why?”
“If I can find someone to fill in for me tomorrow morning at Indigo River Rafters, what do you say to taking that weekend trip after all?”
“How soon would I need to be ready to go?” he asked.
“An hour,” she said. “Can you do that?”
“Just watch me.” He took off at a dead run, calling over his shoulder as he went, “Not that I’m too eager.”
She laughed, something breaking free inside her.
She realized it was hope.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE RACE DIRECTOR of the Poconos Challenge was a small, wiry man with a mustache, barely contained enthusiasm and a face Jill had never seen before in her life.
Equally unfamiliar were the two assistants who sat on either side of Wayne Harrison, smiling and nodding along with the race director as Jill finished her presentation.
Wayne grinned hugely. The sight was even more welcome than the view of Lake Wallenpaupack visible through the window of the meeting room. The Eagle Eye resort had lived up to its “luxury on the lake” billing, in no small part because a savvy architect had designed the building to showcase views of the lake. It was easy to see why the Poconos Challenge organizers had chosen the site to begin and end their event.
“Well done!” Wayne said. “That was our most entertaining proposal of the day.”
Jill had had a feeling things would go well when she’d arrived and verified that all three of the organizers were strangers. She’d known it was unlikely the tendrils of the racing community would extend from Georgia to a resort in the Poconos. Her anxiety hadn’t disappeared, however, until she’d confirmed that.
“Which part?” Jill asked. “When I couldn’t do the PowerPoint without help or the slide I snuck in of the pygmy goats?”
“All of it,” said the older of the two assistant directors, a balding man wearing a yellow racing jersey. “You made Indigo Springs sound like a fun destination.”
“Makes me wonder why I’ve never paid the town a visit,” added the only female member of the committee. She was small, soft-spoken and probably the woman who’d gone to pharmacy school with Chad Armstrong.
“If you choose our beautiful town as one of your lucky finalists, you can change that.” Jill sounded like a walking advertisement, which wasn’t her style. She consoled herself that she might be helping Chad further a romance. “Tell you what. Bring your bikes along, and I’ll lead a ride.”
“We’d love that,” Wayne said, lending credence to Charlie Bradford’s theory that cyclists related best to their own kind. Wayne stood up, and the other two did the same. “You can bet you’ll be hearing from us.”
“Great!” Jill went forward to shake their hands in turn. She took her time, although she really wanted to rush out of the room to share the news with Dan.
He’d suggested she run through the presentation during the drive from Indigo Springs, listening with a critical ear and giving her a major suggestion on how to improve it: get rid of the note cards and just talk.
She could hardly wait to tell him the casual approach had worked. To be truthful, she’d have been eager to join him even if it hadn’t.
He’d offered to check them in to the resort while she presented the case for Indigo Springs. Once she left this meeting room, the truly adventurous part of her weekend would start.
Someone rapped on the door, then flung it open. A woman about her age with a beautiful shade of red hair stuck her head into the room.
“Sorry.” The woman grimaced. “I was just checking to see if you were done with the room.”
“Don’t go, Sally,” Wayne called. “We’re just finishing up now. Come in and meet Jill Jacobi. She just submitted a proposal.”
The woman, beautifully dressed in a baby-blue linen business suit, stepped into the room. She was tall, thin—and shockingly familiar.
Jill’s heart came to a crashing stop. Or at least it felt as though it did. She wasn’t sure where she’d seen the woman before, but something about her long, thin nose and severely arched brows struck a chord.
“Sally Tomlin, this is Jill Jacobi.” Wayne made the introductions while Jill tried to remember if she’d heard the name before. “Jill, Sally works in the resort’s marketing department. She’s a mountain biker, too, so she’s acting as liaison between her people and our people.”
Jill’s fears had come true. The woman was part of the cycling community. Yet Jill could be mistaken about recognizing her. She certainly would have remembered had she seen that particular shade of red before.
“Nice to meet you, Jill.” Sally stuck out a hand, her manner professional. Before Jill could take it, she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Have we met before?”
Jill took the other woman’s hand, racking her brain, trying to figure out why the other woman seemed familiar. “Not that I can recall.”
“I know I’ve seen you before,” Sally said as they shook hands.
Jill swallowed. Was Sally from Atlanta? Jill thought she detected a slight rounding of the vowels that hinted she might be a native Southerner.
“Have you ever been to Indigo Springs?” Wayne asked. “Jill’s a bartender there.”
Sally snapped her slender fingers. “That must be it. I love that little town. My husband and I have been there a couple of times.”
Relief poured through Jill, and she felt as though her blood was circulating again. “There you go.”
Although she didn’t specifically remember Sally from the Blue Haven, that must be why she seemed familiar. Tourists came and tourists went, rotating through the bar as though it had a revolving door.
“I don’t mean to rush you,” Sally said, addressing the three men, “but I’m headed home. If you’re not through, you can ask someone at the front desk to lock up the meeting room.”
“Oh, no, no,” Wayne said. “We’re all finished here. I’m sure Jill is eager to get on with her day.”
Wayne had that right, Jill thought after she left the meeting, switched on her cell phone and saw a text from Dan that read Meet me in room 402.
She hurried through the plush resort, passing an indoor pool, sauna and fitness facility before she reached the lobby. A couple and their three children were waiting for the elevator. Jill bypassed them and took the steps, rushing up them so fast she nearly stumbled.
“Slow down,” she told herself between the third and fourth floors. She couldn’t seem to take her own advice, finding herself in front of room 402 in practically no time at all.
She didn’t hesitate, rapping lightly on the door. It swung open almost immediately. The elegant room didn’t take her breath away
. Dan did. She’d already seen him that afternoon, of course, but was struck again by how good he looked. Unlike her, he was dressed in casual clothes—khaki shorts, sandals and a white shirt that made his black hair seem even darker.
“Well?” he asked, an expectant gleam in his eyes. “How did it go?”
“It went great,” she said. “They all but told me Indigo Springs would be one of the finalists.”
“See. All that worrying for nothing.”
She had a fleeting thought of the panic she’d felt upon meeting Sally Tomlin, then banished the woman from her mind. The mystery of why Sally seemed familiar had been solved.
“For nothing,” she repeated. She walked deeper into the beautifully appointed guest room, decorated in warm shades of peach coupled with mahogany furniture. A window seat overlooked the lake, its water still glistening even though there were only a few hours of daylight remaining. “This is gorgeous.”
She finally let her eyes rest on the focal point of the room, a king-size canopy bed with a lacy white bedspread.
Her heartbeat sped up.
She should be annoyed that he’d asked for a room with a king-size bed after he’d made a point of saying they’d move at her pace. Yet she was oddly excited.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said, “but first you have to change out of those clothes.”
She thought of the little black dress she’d packed, then the skimpy nightgown. Which one was he suggesting?
“You brought sneakers, right?” He didn’t wait for her acknowledgment. “Make sure you wear those. We don’t have much daylight left. Can you meet me in ten minutes?”
She wouldn’t feel comfortable getting undressed in front of him before they shared a bed, but she could change her clothes in the spacious bathroom.
“Meet you where?” she asked.
“Outside in the hall,” he said. “I’m next door in room 404. You can knock when you’re ready.”
“Seriously?” She felt her mouth drop open. “You got two rooms?”
He smiled, bent down, then kissed her open mouth, softly and sweetly. The kiss was over far too soon. He stroked her cheek.
“I told you I wouldn’t rush you.” He stepped away, and it took all her restraint not to grab for him and yank him back. “Ten minutes. Be ready.”
She was already ready, she realized after he left the room. When they’d left Indigo Springs she hadn’t been sure how far she’d let their relationship progress.
Now she was sure.
She was going to make love to him. Tonight.
SLOW AND STEADY, Dan told himself as he navigated his pickup truck through the narrow, twisting paved road just north of Lake Wallenpaupack, keeping an eye out for the iron bridge.
It came into view beyond a steep curve. He tapped on the brakes and made a hard left onto a gravel road. Almost immediately the road ascended steeply.
Slow and steady, he repeated silently.
The phrase applied to more than just his driving. Taking things slowly with Jill was a good idea, and not only because she was skittish. Given his own romantic history, proceeding with caution was the right course of action.
“Why haven’t you asked where we’re going?” he asked. Since they’d set out on the ten-mile trip, she’d been content to talk of inconsequential things.
“And ruin the surprise?” she asked. “No way!”
He risked a glance at Jill even though the pickup was climbing the road at a steep angle, tires crunching as it labored uphill. She was sitting slightly forward in her seat, and the corners of her mouth were turned up. She wore shorts and a red sleeveless top that showed off her toned arms. Her hair was soft and loose, the way he liked it.
After about a half mile, the road flattened out and ended in a small empty parking lot.
She hopped out of the truck almost the instant it stopped. He was slower to join her, first snatching his backpack from the rear seat. By the time he slung it over his shoulder, she was having a hard time standing still.
“You must really like surprises,” he said, amused.
“Like them?” she repeated. “I love them! So lead the way.”
He surveyed the area, almost immediately locating the trampled grass that signaled a path. “I think it’s that way.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“I’ve never been here before.” He walked ahead of her down a path that didn’t seem as though it had seen much use in recent days.
A telltale gurgling sound that grew louder with each passing step, however, told him they were heading in the right direction. She must have figured it out, too. When the path widened, she drew even with him and grinned.
“C’mon, slowpoke.” She took his hand, increasing their traveling speed twofold although he’d been going at a decent clip.
The brush thinned out and the sky brightened, affording a clear view of a waterfall. The rocks were positioned in tiers, like the wedding cake at the party for Kelly and Chase Bradford. The water cascaded over the stones, dropping into a clear stream perhaps twenty feet below.
“I love it!” Jill threw her arms open, as though trying to embrace the scene. “How did you know this waterfall was here?”
“A guy I rode the elevator with at the resort told me about it,” Dan said. “He called it a hidden gem.”
“Let’s get a closer look.” She scampered a few feet downhill to a large flat rock and got close to the edge. “The view’s prettier from here. I can even feel some spray.”
When her back was turned, he set down his backpack, removed a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth and spread it with a flourish.
She pivoted. “What’s this?” she asked, her eyes smiling.
“This is a picnic.” He sat down on the tablecloth, rummaged through his backpack and produced a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, two plastic glasses, a box of crackers and spreadable cheese. “A wine-and-cheese picnic, to be specific. I thought about take-out food, but if you’d smelled it the surprise would have been ruined.”
“It’s perfect!” She sat down beside him and tucked her legs under her. They both had a view of the waterfall, but he thought his vantage point was better because it included her. “Did you bring all this with you from home?”
“Only the corkscrew.” He pulled the item from his backpack. “The resort has a well-stocked gift shop.”
“Easy access to your own personal corkscrew is a very good idea,” she said as he opened the bottle.
“I have my big sister to thank for that. She says it’s hard to resist a man wielding a bottle of wine on a picnic.” Dan made googly eyes at her, and she laughed.
He poured wine into the two glasses, then handed one to her. “What should we drink to?”
“I know,” she said, lifting her glass. “To happiness.”
“To happiness,” he repeated, lightly clinking his glass to hers. He took a sip, then opened the cheese and crackers, arranging them on a paper plate the gift-shop clerk had also suggested he buy.
She bit into a cracker, followed it with wine, then asked, “Does your sister often give you advice?”
“Often? Try always.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. “And it’s not only one sister telling me what to do—it’s three. My youngest sister is seven years older than me.”
“I’m sure they mean well.”
“Oh, they do. Sometimes they’re even right. Karen—that’s my oldest sister—figured out I should become a veterinarian before I did. It’s when they start giving out romantic advice that they go too far.”
“What kind of romantic advice?”
“Let’s see.” He thought of the last conversation he’d had with Karen. “No. I can’t tell you that.”
“Sure, you can,” she said. “How else am I going to get to know you better?”
He shrugged. “Okay. Karen thinks I should invite you to come with me to my cousin Nancy’s wedding in Ohio.”
She gasped softly. “You tol
d your sister about me?”
“Not you, specifically,” he said. “I told my sister I met somebody I liked. She took it from there, disregarding that I’m not even going to the wedding.”
“Why not?” she asked.
He’d already said too much, but there was no going back now that he’d brought up the subject.
“Nancy is marrying my ex’s brother,” he said. “Maggie, that’s my ex, is bringing her new husband to the wedding.”
“You’re not going because you don’t want to run into her,” Jill finished. It was a statement, not a question.
Dan let the words sink in. They sounded wrong even though they’d been true a few weeks ago. He realized a lot had changed since then.
“I don’t care if I run into her,” he said.
“You don’t?” Jill tilted her head. “Then you are going to the wedding?”
“I think I am.” He wasn’t a man who often changed his mind once he made a decision. But then, he realized, he was no longer a man with a broken heart. “I might even take Karen’s advice and ask you to come with me.”
“Oh, really?” She didn’t say no, which he took as a good sign. “What will determine whether you ask me or not?”
“I’m waiting to see how this weekend goes,” he said.
They’d both finished the wine in their glasses. She set hers down and took his empty glass from him. Without breaking eye contact, she inched closer to him.
“I predict,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to his mouth, “that your weekend’s about to get a whole lot better.”
Then she kissed him, her lips moving eagerly over his. She tasted of the wine she’d drunk and the cheese and crackers she’d eaten. He didn’t intend to have more than one glass of wine because he had to navigate the twisting road back to the resort, but he could get drunk on her.
They kissed hungrily, their hands sliding over each other, their bodies shifting in an effort to get closer. He pulled her into his lap, where she couldn’t mistake his arousal.
He kissed the side of her lips, her cheek, her neck. “Maybe we should stop,” he murmured.
“Why?” Her voice was breathy. “Nobody’s here but us.”
That Runaway Summer Page 15
