by Oram, Jean
Sighing, she ducked her head outside while the coffee brewed.
“How do you take your coffee, Dina?”
“Two creams, two sugars.” She turned to Rob. “One cream, one sugar, right?”
He nodded, busy adjusting and reorganizing his pack. He was either nervous or avoiding her. Both were entirely possible.
She headed back inside. Dina already knew how Rob liked his coffee. What else did she know about him? And why the hell was Jen feeling as though she’d turned as green as an unripe avocado?
She checked on her rescue birds one last time while the coffee brewed. She offered a peaceful place they could recuperate until they were able to fly away on their own. A snowy owl tucked its face under a wing, performing neck acrobatics that made Jen want to massage her own at the thought. The birds were fine, but she still didn’t want to leave them.
She reluctantly returned outside with three cups of coffee and spotted a new face by the van. Middle-aged and slightly soft as though he spent a lot of time at a desk.
“Hi! I’m Jen. Are you with the canoe trip?”
“Billy,” he said, coming over to shake her hand but stopping when he spotted the mugs of coffee.
“Can I get you a coffee?” she asked.
“No, no.” He backed away. “I’ll be having to pull the canoe over to hit the bushes if I do—runs right through me. Or else just go over the side. It’s like a rowboat, right?”
Jen swerved the cups away from him. “Not exactly. Since you’re in my canoe, let’s keep you off this stuff. Can I get you something else instead?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
She passed a cup to Rob, their hands touching and causing her heart to give an extra little thump. Evidently, it didn’t take much for lonely hearts.
Jen leaned against the van’s bumper, sipping her coffee. Ahhhh. Caffeine. Sugar. Cream. She took another reviving sip, fortifying herself for hanging out with Rob for more than twenty-four hours.
She turned to Billy. “So, is this your first time in a canoe?” According to his application he was thirty-five and a beginner.
Billy cut his eyes back and forth a few times and licked his lips before nodding.
“Don’t worry. We’re sharing a canoe.” She gave him a soft smile which just about fell off her face as she caught sight of what Billy was staring at.
For whatever reason, Rob was taking off his shirt. In full view.
It was even better than she’d remembered.
She gawked. Hell, it was hard not to when a man offered eye candy like that.
She tried to shoot a ‘don’t worry about me, just looking, not touching’ look to Dina should she get jealous. But for whatever reason, today, her body was responding to Rob’s half nakedness with a little cheerleading routine that expressed everything the naughty part of her brain was thinking. Mostly: Naked, naked, sex, sex. Jump him. Jump him. Now, now, nowwww.
Other than that, she was holding it together remarkably well.
Rob flicked a new T-shirt down over his firm stomach and the switch in Jen’s brain flipped off, allowing her to breathe and think again. “How long have you two known each other?” She struggled to sound relaxed and as though she was burning from pent-up desire.
Oh, hell. She probably just sounded as though she was trying to figure out if there was room for her to weasel her way in between the two of them.
Instead, Dina stuck her tongue out at Rob. “All my life.” She jabbed a thumb in his direction. “He’s older by three years. Brother,” she clarified.
Jen sagged against the bumper, relief and good humor dancing through her brain in a cacophony of beautiful chemicals. Siblings. They were siblings. Oh my god. She had a chance.
Well, maybe not a chance exactly. But at least she was back to square one, which felt way ahead of where she’d been five minutes ago.
She squinted at Dina, thinking of the application Rob had sent in. “But your last names are different.”
Rob looked sheepish. “I registered under her married name.”
Dina gave him a big shove. “He was trying to give me cold feet because he’s a monstrous loser.” She gave him another shove. “It’s because he doesn’t have a love life that will get Mom off his back. Little does he know I love using my future last name.”
Billy’s bag started ringing, and he excused himself from the group.
“Do you have siblings?” Dina asked, stepping away from Rob.
Jen shoved her hands into the pockets on her hiking pants. “Nope.”
“Our family is pretty close.” Dina reached over and gave her brother a playful ear tug.
“That means it’s impossible for them to mind their own business,” Rob said.
Dina sat on the bench in front of the back door and pulled out her phone. “I’m texting Mom that you’re picking on me.”
Rob stuck out his tongue again. “You started it.”
Jen, feeling out of place, resumed the van check she’d abandoned for the coffee. Air in tires, oil, crush on Rob back to higher than normal levels. Check, check, and check.
She opened the back doors to the van where her pack, the group’s food, paddles, and lifejackets were ready and waiting.
“Do your parents want to know every sordid detail of your life?” Rob asked, placing his pack in the back of the van, along with his sister’s.
“No,” Jen muttered, rearranging the packs even though they were fine as they were.
“Lucky.” Rob leaned against the back bumper, facing her. “Our mom is such an interrogator she knows everything about why I’m out here and yet she still thinks I’m hiding a secret girlfriend and that’s why I’m gone so much.” He crossed his arms and leaned toward her. “What’s your mom like?”
“A bitch.” Jen winced. Damn. That was a bit too blunt. Something about being around Rob put her off balance. And pretty much off her rocker and anything else one could be off of and still be okay but tempted to blurt out everything about themselves. The constant kindness in his eyes killed her. Such as right now. He looked curious and genuinely concerned about her.
Damn him. She was going to get mooshy feelings. She was supposed to prove she was a competent professional this weekend, not a flirt.
She handed him a lifejacket. “Does this fit?” She turned away and resumed digging in the back of the van.
“What’s your dad like?” he asked, the buckle of the lifejacket clicking closed.
Jen paused, promising herself to let her mind and mouth work together this time. “They were meant for each other, but surprisingly they divorced.”
She caught the looks of surprise swapped between Rob and Dina at her bitterness. The looks turned to sympathy and compassion, making her want to spill way too much about her past. She turned back to the van and took a deep breath. This weekend was going to be harder in ways she hadn’t even contemplated.
* * *
The rest of the morning was spent getting everyone settled into their canoes on Blueberry Lake, teaching them a few basic strokes, and getting them comfortable in their new rides before paddling off to a nearby island for a picnic lunch.
Rob and Dina took off in the lead, working together as a team. Brenda and Tony, the so-called honeymooners who were celebrating their twentieth anniversary, were wandering, weaving and laughing their way across the water with Brenda in the bow pointing out everything she saw to her husband. The other two beginners, Ned and Phil, who were about her age, were using their upper body strength to power their way across the water despite their lack of technique.
The shore was quiet, reeds whipping lightly in the breeze, birds calling out to one another and setting Jen at ease. The morning breeze ruffled the lake’s surface, small bugs rowing their way across, creating their own miniature ripples.
Gently, Jen gave the group suggestions, getting them to the first island where everyone could take a break and have a leisurely lunch before falling into the water to splash around in the midsummer heat. Cold, but ref
reshing.
After lunch, Brenda squealed as she hit the water, splashing her way to her hubby so she could shower him in kisses.
Jen smiled. How did the two of them manage to be so in love after all these years? Did they ever have hard times or had they always been like this? The way they were today, it was difficult to envision them as anything but passionate. At the same time, Jen knew passion was difficult to maintain in the face of reality.
She stretched out on her back, letting the current drift her sideways as the sun warmed her exposed skin. The nearby pines were giving off hints of freshness and she inhaled, lost in the beauty of nature, the puffy clouds and the calls of the chickadees. Reluctantly, Jen rolled onto her stomach and swam toward shore. It was time to get moving so they’d have plenty of time to set up camp at the new site before cooking supper. Wanting to get a head start on packing up, she let the group swim as she clung to the rocks along the shore, pulling herself out. Her foot slipped on the algae-covered rock, and she let out a stifled yelp as her ankle scraped against something sharp. Her hands let go and she sunk back into the water, treading in the deep water. Pain spread slowly from her ankle and up her leg. Not good.
Rob paddled over on his back. “How much time do we have?”
“Careful, there’s something sharp stuck between the rocks about foot level,” she warned, still treading water. She wanted to lift her ankle above the water, but she didn’t want to draw attention to it as it was probably bleeding and scary looking.
Rob headed to the spot where she’d been and began feeling around while she pulled herself out of the water a few rocks over.
Water ran down her leg, spreading the blood away from the cut, and making it look way worse than it probably was.
Rob held up a broken beer bottle in triumph, and Jen’s head immediately felt as though it was full of helium and going to float away. She let out a long breath and bent over. Her ankle was probably as bad as it looked. Maybe worse.
Sitting on a sun-warmed rock, she turned her back to the group, worst-case scenarios whipping through her mind.
She glanced over her shoulder as Rob climbed out of the water, liquid trickling over his muscular, tanned form in a way that made her think of cologne commercials. She’d never been into cologne, but the way he looked made her want to toss him into the bushes so she could jump him like a wildcat in heat. Well, if her ankle didn’t hurt so bad.
To avoid staring and having her body react in a noticeable way—she was in a bathing suit after all—she returned her attention to her wound, clamping a hand over the bleeding cut.
“Need a first aid kit?” Rob asked.
“If you don’t mind,” she said in a low voice. “It’s strapped under the seat in my canoe.”
Rob returned with the kit, water still weaving its way down his chest thanks to his slightly longish hair. Rob pulled gauze from the kit. “Lift your hand.”
She tipped her palm up for the gauze.
“The other one,” he said patiently.
She released her grip and blood immediately began pouring out of the cut.
Rob sucked in a breath and immediately clamped gauze to the wound, his gloved hand holding it in place. “You need stitches.” His expression was less than comforting.
“Let me see.”
He carefully pulled back the gauze which was already soaked with red.
“Shit.” A pass of wooziness hit her hard. “Can you patch me up?” She had to keep going. Had to prove she had what it took to do her job, that she was diligent, careful, and an expert in her own right.
“Stitches?” he asked, puzzled. “Out here?”
Jen tugged her ankle away. “I’m not letting you near me with a needle!” She lowered her voice, checking for an audience. “Hand me the antiseptic. I’ll wrap it and be good to go.”
Rob let out a surprised snort of amusement. “You need stitches.”
“I’m not ruining the trip for stupid stitches. It’s fine.” Especially if she didn’t look at. Then it was even better. “Pass me one of those aspirin, too.”
She could see Rob’s concern growing like a mythical beanstalk—fast and furious, and out of control.
“Preventative,” she assured.
“This isn’t something to mess around with. You should go back.”
“Last I checked you were an investigator and client and not a doctor or my boss. I’m fine and I’m not going home.”
They stared at each other for a moment, Rob’s gray eyes storming.
“It’s not putting anyone in danger,” she added, snatching another roll of gauze from him.
“Except yourself.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“You count.”
Jen cleared her throat. She wasn’t a wimp who went home over a scratch.
“This isn’t good,” he warned.
“Rob, look at me.”
He complied, his gray eyes watching her, flecks of blue like raindrops in his eyes. She resisted the urge to clutch his face in her hands and lift her lips to his.
“I need this,” she whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.
Rob bent his head and, shaking it slowly, took the supplies she’d been clutching and began carefully doctoring up her cut. When finished, he leaned back on his heels, his torso dry and glowing brown. “That’s the best I can do.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You run the risk of a serious infection with an open wound like that out here.”
Jen pulled her leg toward herself, the skin still tingling from his touch. “It’ll be fine.”
“Don’t flex your ankle,” he warned quickly. “I used strips to pull the cut closed. It was the best I could do, but it won’t take much to reopen it.”
She stood, gingerly placing weight on her sore ankle. Maybe she should have taken two aspirin. Now that the shock had worn off, her body was definitely sending out the ‘we’re in trouble down here’ signals. It was a good thing she didn’t have any hiking planned. There were a few short trails by the planned campsite, but they all led back to the campsite, it being on a fairly small island. Theoretically, people could go without her and not get lost. Because if her ankle continued to burn as though someone had set fire to it, she’d have no choice but to hang back and hope that nobody got hurt or lost.
She sized up Rob, getting his take on what was going on. Man, he really needed to cut the whole sympathy look. It was going to do her in. Didn’t he know she was a tough cookie? Couldn’t he see it in her competence? She’d been rocking this trip so far.
“It’s not that bad,” she said, an edge to her voice as she hobbled off to pack up the lunch. “It’ll be fine if I ignore it.”
“By the time you see a doctor tomorrow night,” Rob said, falling into step beside her, his bare feet not seeming to mind the pine needles as much as hers, “the cut won’t be fresh enough to stitch shut. You’ll either have a nasty scar or the doctor will have to reopen the cut.”
From the water she could hear Billy laughing, his earlier fears and worries about being an uncoordinated beginner having melted and drifted off in the water. The power of nature. She couldn’t take that away from the group. From anyone.
“Fine. The scar can match my other ones,” she announced, meeting his gaze.
Rob’s eyes flitted over her, on the lookout.
She was tempted to hike the bottom of her bathing suit and show him the one on her hip from a figure skating mishap but decided to keep him curious. “They’re hidden,” she said with a flirty eyebrow lift.
“I know,” he said. “Mine are, too.” His eyes burned as he took her elbow to help her over a large outcropping of rocks between them and the lunch area where she’d left her shoes. “If you change your mind, I can help round everyone up, okay?”
“You guys need help?” Dina called, joining them in the picnic area they’d tramped down in the long, wild grass. “Whoa! What happened to you?”
“I cut my ankle.” She pulled her elbow out of Rob’s
grip. “It’s not that bad though.”
She caught Dina and Rob sharing a look.
“I’m fine,” she insisted. Seriously, did Rob have to use so much gauze and tape? It made it the affected area seem way bigger than it actually was.
“What did you cut it on?” Dina asked, her brow furrowing.
“A bottle.”
“I put it in our canoe,” Rob said, “be careful.”
Dina clamped a hand to her mouth when she saw the red splotch seeping through Jen’s gauze, her eyes wide. “Do we have to worry about bears smelling blood?”
Oh, hell. “We’ll be camping on an island,” Jen reassured. “A small island. No bears.”
Rob’s shoulders tightened.
“It’s fine.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Really. We’ll be on the water. On an island. I won’t be putting anyone at risk.” Hopefully.
“Can’t bears swim?” Dina asked.
“It’ll be fine,” Jen said, trying to not let the scary in. “You never see bears out here. Especially with everyone making noise.”
* * *
Back out on the water, Brenda saw a black bear on shore and just about upset her canoe. Rob and Dina shot Jen a significant look, and she tried not to give in to the terror inside her or the thoughts that she was about to lead her clients into a bear’s buffet.
The bear, disturbed by the group’s commotion, ambled off, vanishing into the thick brush at the shoreline. Of course since she’d claimed they’d be safe from bears one had to rear its big, furry head. There were probably even more in the area due to the massive damage in Raspberry Creek Park. It figured. She was doomed. She only hoped if there were any interactions with wildlife that it would choose her and not one of her clients.
“We’re sleeping in bear country?” Brenda whirled to face her calm husband, who was doing his best to keep them on course and away from the other canoes that had closed into a cluster since the bear sighting. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
