by Lucy Farago
When her dating Ryan had first come up, she’d assumed Monty’s awkwardness had been because Ryan was his boss, and maybe there was some underlying tension due to the circumstances of his enforced vacation. Now she wasn’t so sure. “It was over before it began.”
“If you say so. You can turn the light off now.”
Was he jealous? That was absurd, but in the dimness, his expression was unreadable. She tried to imagine another woman with Monty…. Oh yeah, maybe not so absurd. She accidentally aimed the flashlight at his face. “Sorry,” she said, then flicked it off. Maybe it was a guy friend sleeping with the same girl type thing? But she and Monty had hooked up after she’d told him about Ryan. If it had upset him that much, why sleep with her? “So, how close are you to Ryan?”
“Are you asking if we hang together?”
She unzipped her coat. “No need for sarcasm. It’s just that you refer to your co-workers as a team. That would imply some kind of bond. Is he part of that team?” Being attracted to your boss’s ex was one thing; your friend’s, another.
“I personally have never been on a mission with him. I don’t know how to describe it. He’ll do anything for us. That makes us loyal. He’s a good guy, but he’s also my boss.”
“So, you’d stick up for him in a bar fight, but you wouldn’t go to the movies together.”
“Ryan wouldn’t need me in a bar fight.” He tossed in one of the larger pieces of wood they’d found in the cave. “But something like that. Why all the questions?”
What could she do, come right out and ask if he was jealous? Would he think her ridiculous? She wasn’t only counting on him for her survival. They’d made a connection. And she wanted to keep it. They might never sleep together again, but she hoped they could at least stay friends. Was it too much of a cliché to ask? She didn’t have close friends, and it pained her to think that when this was over, she’d no longer see him. “If we get through this, I was hoping… I mean, I’d like to…” What the hell was wrong with her? But she already knew the answer to that question. Fear. She was afraid he’d reject her wanting to keep his friendship. “I just don’t want it to be awkward if the three of us run into one another.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be the third wheel. Ryan and I travel in different circles. The chances of the three of us being in the same room aren’t high.”
There it was again, that snarky tone. Was he mad at her? No. She mentally slapped herself in the head. Of course he wasn’t jealous. That was crazy thinking on her part. A girl thing. A girl wanting what happened between them to have meant something kind of thing. They weren’t a thing. And it would be stupid to want that. And she wasn’t stupid. No, Monty was still mad at Ryan. Even though it was a little ego deflating, it did make her feel more comfortable in asking, “What about the two of us? Any chance we’ll be in the same room again?”
In the dimly lit cave, she watched as Monty struggled to get to his feet and suspected his knee was bothering him more than he was letting on. “We need to change your bandages.”
“It’s fine. We’ll do it in the morning. I need to get this done before whatever energy I have left is completely zapped. Damn,” he said, arching his back. “I could use a good night’s sleep.”
And she doubted he’d get it here. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him while he fetched the branches he’d dragged back. She’d never seen such thick greenery, even in December, when vendors brought in only the best Christmas trees for the wealthy who called San Diego home. The scent of fresh pine permeated the small cave as he began to pile one on top of the other, alternating the bases. It didn’t bother her that he hadn’t answered her question right away. She’d noticed a pattern; sometimes Monty liked to think about his answers. No, what bothered her was that he had to think about this answer. Was he trying to find a nice way to tell her she was bye-bye after all this was said and done? Oh, God. Had she come off as some clingy, after-sex groupie?
When he appeared done, Monty raised his bad knee and squatted on his good leg before carefully sitting on the thick needles. He’d constructed a bed. He waved her over and, feeling too exhausted to stand, she crawled.
“Wow, aren’t you all survivor man.” It wasn’t a down-lined mattress, but it made the ground a whole lot more palatable.
“Can I be honest with you?”
That was never good. Did he see their sleeping together as a mistake? She didn’t like the idea of being anyone’s mistake. She’d experienced that growing up and never wanted to experience it again. “Sure.”
He pointed to the tunnel leading down into the underground caverns. “Making it through that maze was…satisfying. I mean, not satisfying, but you know…don’t you feel it to? Well, maybe you don’t want to rehash all the emotions you had down there, but it’s kind of cool when you think about. I crawled through a mountain. With you. I’ve done some off-the-rail stuff with the team but never a civilian.”
“Gee, thanks. Why do I feel insulted?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s the opposite. The other stuff, it’s always been with a team member. I knew someone had my back, and if we got in trouble, the team would pull us out. Sure, it could be scary, but it’s like going on a roller-coaster. You know the scary part will be over at the end of the ride. And you’ll be safe. You have to trust that or you risk screwing up. In there, it was just you and me. I had your back…and you had mine, but honestly, a time or two I wasn’t so sure we wouldn’t have to turn around.”
Or get stuck and die.
“And yet,” he continued, “somehow I knew we’d make it. Did it feel like that to you?”
She wasn’t as sure as him, but she’d known she wasn’t alone, and that had made it easier. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Especially at the beginning. Once I got over my phobia, I had complete faith in you.” She’d trusted him with her life. Not that she had much of a choice, but regardless, she had believed he’d do everything he could to keep her safe.
“We did it together.”
She didn’t know how much of that was true either. “I didn’t do anything but follow.”
“You were my motivation.”
She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, a crying female can do that to a person.”
“You didn’t cry.”
“Not on the outside, but on the inside…”
He placed his hand over hers. “That wouldn’t have been easy for anyone. Except T, and he’s just strange. But given your claustrophobia…that took guts.”
Yeah, she was brave all right. More like she’d never be able to set foot in her closet again without flashbacks.
“You asked me if there was a chance of you and me…seeing each other after this was over.”
Oh, God, no. Did he think she meant dating? It made her sound…needy.
“We’ve only known each other a few days—”
“Wait.” She had to correct him.
“No. Please let me finish. I’m not good at stuff like this and I need to say it fast or I’ll lose my courage.”
What was that supposed to mean? Not knowing what else to do, she nodded. She’d have to explain after she pulled her foot out of her mouth and he’d said his piece.
“I don’t think you can go through what we’ve been through and not develop a bond. And sometimes when two people find themselves in intense situations, emotions can be amplified. We act on things we wouldn’t normally. What happened between us… well, it happened. We’re obviously attracted to each other. I’m a guy. And look at you,” he said by way of explanation.
Look at her? She was ordinary. When she’d been rich, she’d given Paris Hilton a run for her money, but that was clothes, makeup, expensive everything. Now she was just a woman making a fool of herself. She was never more thankful for the dim light. He wouldn’t see her turning five shades of red. She bit her tongue to stop herself from interr
upting him.
“And I’m not saying I don’t want to… I mean I’d like…”
Yeah, she got it. What happened, happened, and there was nothing more to it. She herself knew that. And while embarrassed by his assumption that she’d intimated dating, a small part of her was hurt to think that was all it was. Two people attracted to each other with nothing else to do. Two people who in normal circumstances wouldn’t have ended up having the best sex of at least her life.
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Now she’d gone and made him feel bad. Could this get any worse?
“No. I do. The guys are right. I need to get out more. And if you tell them I said that, I’ll deny it.” He smiled, making things between them a little more palatable. “What I’m trying to say is, I know we slept together. And for the record, I’m not opposed to it happening again. But when this is over…”
Oh, shit, here it came.
“I would like it if we stayed friends. I think we get along pretty good. Don’t you?”
She suddenly found herself too emotional to say anything, so again she nodded. Hadn’t she wanted to remain friends? That had been her intention in asking the question in the first place. So why did that small part of her that hurt bloom a little more pain?
“Good.” He drew her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “So, what do we do about the sex part?”
Huh? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“Do we not sleep with each other again? I hear sex can muck up a friendship. I don’t want to muck this up.”
Was he being serious? Or teasing her again? “You think you can keep your hands off me?” She didn’t exactly see herself as keeping her hands off him.
“Honestly? No.” He grinned. “You want me to?”
“Yes,” she lied, and he knew it. “But I don’t sleep with men who are sleeping with other women. It’s kind of a rule with me. So, if you get the urge to put someone else in your bed, I want a heads-up. You cool with that?” It was like they were discussing a business deal, and it was hard not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
“And if you see someone you want to try a long-term relationship with, you let me know.”
“You too.” She met enough clients over the years to know long term wasn’t for everyone. His mother’s behavior had tainted his views on relationships. She wouldn’t be able to change those overnight. And she suspected Monty had trust issues.
His humoring her, “Sure,” confirmed it. “So, we okay, you and I?”
“Friends with benefits?” Maybe if they stayed friends, they could see where this, whatever this was, would go.
“Friends first,” he corrected, “benefits second.”
She tugged her hand out of his and extended it. “Friends with benefits.” It was an odd thing to shake on, but weren’t they an odd pair?
Chapter 18
Monty woke up with Taylor snuggled under his arm and pressed to his chest. He couldn’t say it had been a comfortable sleep—the heat coming off his leg was nearly as bad as the constant throb—but she’d made it more palatable. She’d had the brilliant idea to zip their coats together to create a sleeping bag of sorts. It worked. Not only had it kept them warmer but he’d gotten to hold her.
He hadn’t been certain how she’d take all that talk about staying friends. A woman, especially one who made it her career to match people up, might not be so keen about going the friends-with-benefits route. But he’d decided to take the chance, leaving the ball in her court. All drama and danger aside, he liked being with her. And he was fairly certain she felt the same. It was obvious they had chemistry. And if she walked out on him, with another man or wherever life took her, maybe he could keep his heart intact.
They were different, the two of them. She socialized with celebrities. Redneck was a step up for the people in his hometown. Although, he guessed, his mother had been something of a celebrity. Only her notoriety hadn’t been the good kind. Not to a kid trying to fit in. Seven husbands tended to make great Sunday gossip.
Maybe the guys were right, and he had become a hermit. He hadn’t done it on purpose. But in his control room, he wasn’t the geeky kid with more substitute daddies than ticks on a mongrel dog. In his control room, he was God. A god who had seriously fucked up, he reminded himself. He promised to never make that mistake again. When he got back, he’d make certain Carrie was properly trained on everything, although he suspected she knew more than he’d given her credit for.
“Good morning.” Taylor yawned lazily as she snuggled closer, the fingers of her left hand splayed over his heart, caressing his chest.
What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower, and her naked and with him. “Good morning.”
The sun would be up soon, and daylight at this time of year shrank fast. But, oh, how he wished he could keep her here, tucked under his arm. “It’s late. We have to go.”
“But it’s still dark out,” she said, craning her neck toward the mouth of the cave.
“Not for long. Remember, it rises late, sets early. We should get ready to head out just before sunrise.” He maneuvered them both into a sitting position and unzipped their coats, Taylor quickly slipping into hers.
“This was a good idea, right?”
In more ways than she knew. “It was a great idea.”
“What are we going to do tonight? You said we’d never make it to that camp in one day.”
“We’ll have to find shelter, another cave, or make something. We’ve got the equipment T left behind. You slept outside before,” he pointed out when a worried expression marred her beautiful face.
He waited for her to stand first, and when her back was to him he joined her, not wanting her to see how much it pained him. Along with the constant not-so-dull throb, overnight his knee had stiffened. He couldn’t have her worry about him on top of everything else.
“Yes, but I suspect snow won’t have the same insulation as dead leaves.”
With their fire burning out, the inside temperature in the cave wasn’t as bad as he’d anticipated. But he suspected the outside temperature had risen. “Actually, snow has tremendous insulating properties. Ever heard of igloos?”
“You want to build an igloo?” Her look said he’d lost it.
“There won’t be enough time.” An image of the two of them making snow forts popped into his head. He’d never much cared for the outdoors after he’d left Kentucky, but he suspected with Taylor it’d be fun. He doubted she’d played in the snow when she was a kid. “We’ll need to find someplace dry, but we should be able to build a lean-to or debris shelter. It won’t be spa accommodations, but we might not freeze to death.” He leaned in and kissed her, as much for himself as for her. “Wipe that frown off your face. We can do this.”
“You, maybe.”
“You too,” he assured her.
She shot a glance at the tunnel leading back into the mountain. “What choice do I have?”
He wished she’d stop that. “Why do you keep doubting yourself? Can’t you see what you’ve accomplished?”
She shrugged. “I’m a realist.”
“Sure, and I’m a perfectionist.”
“Fine. I’ll try not to get so down on myself.”
“Take it one step further and believe in yourself. I do.” An awkward silence fell between them as she tried to read his face. If she needed assurances, he’d give them to her. “I do,” he repeated.
She seemed to accept his honesty as her mouth slowly curled.
“Look, why don’t you go take care of anything you might need to take care of, and then you can help me.”
“With what?”
“You’ll see.”
While she did what girls do in the morning, he fetched the twine and small handsaw T had left. He didn’t bother relighting their fire. I
f they’d had a small container he would have melted snow for water, but as it was, they’d have to content themselves with eating it. Earlier, he’d dumped their emergency pact into T’s knapsack and now retrieved it. It wasn’t much, but with a good amount of water, the fiber in the power bars inside would expand and fill their bellies. Then he took the branches he’d found last night and began cutting.
“What are doing?” Taylor had returned.
“Have you ever walked on freshly fallen snow?”
“Skied, yes; walked, not so much.”
“Not fun, and from the looks of it, we got a lot of it. I’m making snowshoes from branches.”
“Will it work?” She picked up what he discarded and move it aside.
“It should.” Once he’d cut away what he didn’t need, he laid out the branches to form a triangle large enough to fit their boots, then set two more pieces inside on the diagonal. “If you’ll hold the adjoining pieces for me, I’ll secure it all with the twine.”
Wearing an intrigued smile, she joined him on the floor and together they made four frames. “Now what?”
“Now we use the pine branches we slept on and weave them through the lattice.”
“This is cool. Where did you learn to do this?”
“YouTube.” He laughed at how lame that might sound to a former heiress. People who cavorted with the rich and famous had better things to do with their time. “I have a lot of free time on my hands when the team isn’t actively on a case. I’m always online. Some people shop, go on social media. I research.”
“I like the funny animal videos. Did you catch the one where the puppy is drinking from a bowl and his hind legs lift off the floor? I must have watched that one a hundred times.”
He should probably admit to having watched it himself, but as it was embarrassing—ICU’s tech amusing himself with funny pet videos—he raised an eyebrow instead.
“What?” she said. “They help me destress. Laughter has been known to cure cancer.”
He pointed to the pine branch by her foot. “Yeah, lots of things cure cancer. Pass that to me will you, please.”
