by Jill Shalvis
He staggered back a step. “Nice one, tiger.”
Yanking out an earbud, she stared down at him in horror. “Are you all right?”
“No blood no foul,” he said, seeming more amused than irritated. “And a hundred percent my fault.”
Okay, now that she could breathe again and he probably wasn’t hurt, she climbed down. A proper southern woman always looked a person in the eyes while she yelled at him. “Why in the world did you sneak up on me like that?”
He shrugged. “When I made myself known the other day at the hospital cafeteria, you ran off. So I figured I’d try a new tactic.”
“You figured wrong.”
He cocked his head, smile fading as he studied her. She knew what he saw. Her eyes were misty, her hands were shaking. And while she’d meant to sound angry, the words had caught in her throat, giving herself away.
His expression serious now, he said, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I won’t do it again.”
She swallowed hard at the sincerity in his voice and the regret in his eyes. “Thank you.” She turned to climb back up the ladder.
“Charlotte.”
A sigh escaped her, but she hesitated.
“You’re shaking. Give yourself a minute.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But do it for me.”
She hesitated, but eventually nodded because she really was still shaking. Annoying as hell. And clearly also far too revealing, because he slowly—so slowly it made her ache—drew her in . . . pausing to look into her eyes before he hugged her.
Yeah, she’d definitely given herself away, maybe even more than she thought, because they’d never touched before.
Not once.
And dear sweet baby Jesus, why hadn’t they ever touched before? His arms . . . they were almost as good as his chest, which she had her cheek pressed to.
He drew a deep breath as if he was just as unexpectedly shaken as she by the physical contact, then pressed his face into her hair. “Charlotte?”
“Yeah?”
“I like this.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” Not that she made any effort at moving away.
And maybe the best part of all was that he didn’t either. Closing her eyes, she let herself absorb the feel of a man’s arms around her. This man. He was big and warm. And he smelled good. Too good. Up against him like this, she found it suddenly far too easy to let her walls down and be vulnerable. Only she never did those two things.
Just then Jane opened the back door. “Hey, Charlotte—” She stopped short at the sight of them hugging. “Ohmigod, so sorry.” She started to go back in, then stopped and grinned. “Carry on!”
And then she was gone.
Charlotte buried her face in Mateo’s neck. Not out of embarrassment. She just wanted one last big sniff of him before forcing herself to pull back.
He was smiling. “Did you just smell me?”
“I believe it’s called breathing.”
Onto her, he smirked, but didn’t press further. Instead, he looked up at the holiday lights, half still on her eaves, the other half dangling from the roof to the ground. “Need help?”
“No. I—” But then she was talking to herself because he was climbing the ladder. “What are you doing?”
“It’s called lending a helping hand.”
“I’ve got it,” she called after him, doing her best not to stare at his butt, but honestly, it was a pretty great one, so she might not have tried as hard as she should. He was wearing work boots, dark jeans, and a black T-shirt with an unbuttoned flannel shirt over it, which flared away from him at the breeze. “Why doesn’t anyone wear a jacket around here? You’re going to turn into a Popsicle.”
“The way I see it, you’ve got two choices,” he said. “You could ask me to come down so you can do this all on your own, or . . .” He was rolling the lights up as he unhooked them from the roof, the strings fully cooperating and coiling in a nice lasso around his shoulder.
“Or?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.
“Or you could accept some neighborly help in the spirit it was intended, which is not to make you feel helpless, but to free up your rare free time for something else.”
Hadn’t she just lectured Jane about accepting help? Yes. Yes, she had. So maybe it was time she took some of her own advice. “Fine.” Her eyes were back on his very fine ass. “But you have to let me do something for you in return.”
He glanced down at her, smiling when she jerked her gaze off his butt. “You have my full attention,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll feed you after.”
He grinned. “Sold.”
Chapter 11
Jane was on hour sixteen of what should have been a twelve-hour shift. Her stomach was now eating itself. When she finally got a break between patients, she dashed into the cafeteria, grateful to be at Sierra North’s urgent care today, as she could run to the adjacent hospital and to the cafeteria there. She piled up a tray with food and sat with a grateful sigh. She picked up the can of soda that was her treat for surviving the day so far—briefly wishing that it was something with alcohol—and cracked it open.
It sprayed her in the face. With a gasp, she stilled in disbelief as it dripped off her nose. “That’s what I get for wishing you were alcohol.”
“Here.” A woman handed her a stack of napkins. “And yeah, a martini would be great about now.”
“Thanks.” With a wry grimace, Jane began to mop herself up. “And I’ve actually never had a martini.”
“That’s a crime against alcohol. Is this seat taken?”
Jane gave up dabbing at her face and soaked scrubs to look up at the woman who’d handed her the stack of napkins. Maybe late thirties, she was in yoga gear and had her brown hair up in a ponytail, her gray eyes behind boxy glasses. She wore a welcoming, warm smile that said she liked to talk.
And here was the thing. Jane liked to be lonely on her breaks. She looked forward to it, but she couldn’t be outright rude, so she nodded. Plus, she wasn’t going to lie: the fact that the woman’s tray was filled with desserts said they were probably soulmates.
The woman sat and reached for her own can of soda.
“I’d be care—” Jane started but gave up when that can blew up too.
The woman laughed as Jane got up and brought back more napkins. “Should’ve seen that coming,” she said ruefully.
Jane eyeballed the woman’s tray—all desserts—and had a hard time keeping her gaze off the stack of miniature lemon squares.
“Take them,” she said. “I’ve got my eyes on the big soft brownie anyway.”
Jane shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t—”
Her new companion took the plate of mini lemon squares from her tray and set it on Jane’s. “For sharing your table.”
Jane was a lot of things, but she was not a person who turned down dessert. So she dug in. “Thanks.”
“Been a long shift?” the woman asked in sympathy.
“It turned into a double.”
“Damn. They always overwork the unsung heroes.”
Jane pretended not to hear this as she shoved in another lemon bite. She was always uncomfortable when someone thanked her for her work or referred to the job as being heroic. It was a job, and okay, yes, she loved it, but it was a paycheck.
Her table mate smiled. “My name’s Tess. I come here for lunch sometimes before picking up my daughter from the after-school program because it’s right across the street. Saves me some time, and also I like the food here. How about you?”
“Jane.” She took another lemon bite, then pictured Charlotte rolling her eyes at Jane being so miserly with words. So she sighed. Swallowed. “I’m a nurse at the urgent care clinic next door, and I come here during my breaks for the same reason. Plus I forgot to pack anything.”
“You must meet a lot of interesting people in your line of work.”
Jane thought abou
t how she’d met Levi while hanging apparently seven hundred and fifty feet in the air and had to laugh a little. “Yeah.”
Tess smiled. “You look like you’ve got a good story to tell.”
Pleading the fifth, Jane stuffed in another bite.
“Sorry.” Tess sat back, looking embarrassed. “I’m a mom. It means I don’t have boundaries anymore. Plus I find myself asking everyone I run into about their relationships because mine just blew up in my face.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was stupid.” Tess shook her head. “I let my soon-to-be ex-husband handle all our financial affairs, which means I don’t get to be surprised he ran away with the babysitter and all our money.”
“That’s awful,” Jane said in genuine sympathy. “Men suck.” She had a quick flashback to Levi moving to protect her with his entire body as their gondola thrashed about in the wind like a toy. How he’d coaxed her into the new experience of rock climbing. And then given her the discount for the jacket for Charlotte’s birthday, saying it was the least he could do for his pretend girlfriend saving his life. “Well, maybe they don’t all suck,” she corrected.
Tess lit up with painful hope. “Yeah? You’ve got someone special in your life, then? A good guy? They exist?”
“Um, not exactly. I’m only here for the ski season. After that, I’ll be contracted somewhere probably far away from here. Not exactly relationship material.”
Tess was quiet a moment. Reflective. “That sounds . . . lonely,” she finally said. “Is it hard to always be on the go, no connections?”
There was that word again. Connections. “I’m not that great at connections.”
Tess nodded. “You’ve been hurt, too.”
“Haven’t we all?”
Tess laughed a little mirthlessly. “Touché. Tell me you’re in a relationship with someone good. Give me some hope.”
“In a relationship?” It felt silly to say I feel a deep connection to a man I met only a couple of weeks ago when we nearly died together . . . “No, but . . .”
“Oh don’t stop there,” Tess said with a smile. “That ‘no, but’ sounds exciting.”
Jane let out a small laugh. “To be determined, I guess.”
Tess knocked her soda can to Jane’s. “To the ‘to be determined,’ then.”
LEVI COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d felt nerves bubble in his chest, but he felt it now. It was date night—pretend date night, as Jane would say. A few days ago, Jane had agreed via text they could practice getting to know each other over dinner somewhere.
Louie’s on the Lake was just as its name proclaimed—right on the water, and a popular local dining spot that would be extremely public. As for neutral, he was going to try and remain just that and stay awake. He was exhausted, having spent the past few days catching up with his own company, while also doing a deep dive into Cutler Sporting Goods accounting.
The store’s situation wasn’t good. In fact, it was bad, really bad, but at the moment, the knowledge of that was all on his shoulders. He needed to talk to his family but wanted another day to finish going through everything first.
Either way, it was going to suck. At the heart, his mom and dad were good people who didn’t have filters or personal space boundaries because they expected the best of everyone.
And Cal had clearly counted on—and taken advantage of—that and them. And Tess. When she found out, it’d kill her. It was keeping him awake at night.
As was something else.
He’d been here two weeks. Longer than any other time since living here. He should be feeling claustrophobic and desperate to get out of town; he should be feeling San Francisco pulling at him to go back.
But he wasn’t. Oddly, Sunrise Cove was the thing pulling at him, calling to him. Being back here, even under duress, reminded him how damn alive he’d felt living in the mountains again.
He’d left because he’d needed some space.
But at some point, that need had gone away.
When his phone buzzed with an incoming call from his dad, who never called him, he answered with a quick “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” his dad asked, sounding puzzled, and Levi had to let out a rough laugh.
“Because you never call me?”
“I do so,” his dad said.
“Name one time.”
“When your sister had Peyton.”
“Dad, that was six years ago.”
“Still happened.”
Levi put a finger to his twitching eye. “What’s up?”
“I’m in the store’s office. There’s a stick-it note on my computer that says to revamp the book section, that the books shelved aren’t selling.”
“That’s right. They’re the same four titles you’ve been selling for a hundred years.”
“Hey,” his dad said, “those books are on wilderness, exploration, and the history of the region. They’re fascinating.”
“Dad, they were written in the 1970s and are out of date.”
“I like them.”
“Then take them home, stick them in your bathroom, and read them during the three hours you spend in there every morning.”
“I’m not going to take them home.”
“Because . . . they’re not riveting?” Levi asked dryly.
His dad sighed and hung up.
Perfect timing. He could see Jane walking toward him in dark jeans, a sweater the same gorgeous green as her eyes, and some seriously sexy boots, and suddenly he knew staying awake wasn’t going to be a problem. Just one look at her and he felt more present than he had since . . . well, since the last time he’d seen her a few days ago, screaming with laughter in his ear all the way down the rock wall.
Best climb ever.
The weight of his stress and exhaustion faded, making him feel light for the first time since she’d agreed to this farce. And not just because she was saving his ass once again. He felt light whenever he was with her, pretend or not, although certain parts of his body told him there was nothing pretend about this attraction between them. And for once, those body parts and his brain seemed to be on the same wavelength.
Jane sat down across from him and without preamble, swiped her iPad awake and pushed it across the table to him. She’d loaded a site called How to Get to Know Someone in 100 Questions. He looked at her. “Seriously?”
“Okay, so we can skip the obvious ones, like how do you react in a life-or-death situation?”
He snorted, making her smile. “Just pick a random one,” she said. “Here.” She let her finger land on the screen. “Number fifty-two. What’s your most unusual talent?”
He smiled. “In or out of the bedroom? Oh, and hi, by the way.”
She softened with a low laugh. “Hi.” She pointed at him. “Now answer the question. And OUT of the bedroom is all I’m concerned about.”
He smiled.
“It is!”
Her defensiveness had him laughing. “Okay, okay, my unusual talent . . . Gadgets. Robotic gadgets.”
“I said out of the bedroom!”
God, he adored her. “I was actually being serious. I like to build robotic gadgets.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “Sorry.”
Their waitress turned out to be an old classmate of his. Kendra smiled warmly at him. “Hey, hot stuff,” she said. “Heard you went off and made good on that fancy brain of yours. You get paid to tell all those big CEOs in the Bay Area what to do with their data now, right?”
“More like I offer suggestions,” he said. “In a consulting capacity.”
Kendra grinned. “Still, gotta be fun.”
“Sometimes,” he admitted, and gestured to Jane. “Kendra, this is Jane. Jane, Kendra.”
“We went to high school together,” Kendra told Jane. “We sweated out AP Chemistry. And then blew off steam in the back of my daddy’s truck a couple of times.”
To Levi’s relief, Jane laughed. “Nice way to get thro
ugh the worst class in the history of worst classes,” she said.
Kendra grinned. “Right? So what can I get you kiddies tonight?”
Levi gestured for Jane to go first.
“I’m trying to decide between the sweet potato fries and the shrimp kebab,” she said.
“I’d take both,” Kendra said. “They’re amazing. All the appetizers here are. And your main?”
“Oh . . .” Jane paused. “Um, just the apps, thanks.”
Levi didn’t know if she wasn’t that hungry or if she was worried about the prices. “Hey, why don’t we order a bunch of appetizers and share?” he asked her.
She smiled. “Okay.”
“Is there anything you don’t like?” he asked, wanting to give her the damn moon.
When she shook her head, he looked at Kendra. “How about one of each of the five appetizers.” And then he added a flight of beer to share, getting Jane to pick the flavors.
“Also, we’ve got s’mores on the menu now,” Kendra said. “You get all the makings for them, which you take out on the patio to the fire pits and create yourself.”
Levi looked at Jane, who had lit up at the word s’mores. “I think that’s a yes.”
Kendra gave him another wink and took off.
“An ex, huh?” Jane asked.
“An ex implies we were in a relationship,” he said.
“Ah. So you were one of those guys, the hot ones who had girls throwing themselves at you. Let me guess, it was hard to resist them all.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Not that either,” he finally managed, trying to lose the smile when she glared at him. “No, seriously, if you’d known me then, you’d get why it was so funny.”
“Enlighten me, Tarzan.”
“I was the science geek.”
“Doesn’t seem like it hurt your game any.”
“I had zero game. Luckily for me, just after I graduated from high school, my best friend told me we were in a relationship.”
“Mateo?” she asked in surprise.
“Mateo’s sister, Amy. They lived on my street growing up, and we were all close. Amy and I got closer that summer after graduation, and she changed colleges to go with me to Colorado.”
“How long were you with her?”
