“Apparently even the mountains can’t beat that out of me.”
“Speaking of that. How are you feeling? Your head-”
“Still on.”
“Your shoulder-”
“I’m fine, Cam.”
He nodded, looking through the living room to her bedroom. Her suitcase was on the bed. She’d been thinking about getting some things packed.
“There’s a big storm coming in,” he said, still looking at her suitcase.
“It’s already here.”
“No, a bigger one’s going to hit the morning. It’s going to hit hard and heavy, maybe sock us in for a few days.”
That wouldn’t be so bad, getting to see one last storm. It could match the one in her heart.
“I wanted to make sure you’re stocked with candles and batteries and everything.”
She looked at him. “So you’re…”
“Leaving in the morning, before the big one hits. Nick and I are flying a group of six hardcore snow hikers out to Desolation Wilderness. From there we’re snow hiking to the peak. It’s a four-day trek round-trip.”
“In the storm?”
“They want it that way. They want to sleep in the blizzard inside a snow cave under the Sierra stars.”
She managed a laugh. “Sometimes I’m very glad I don’t have your job.” She watched the amusement transform his face, turning it from pensive and edgy to open and so attractive he took her breath. “It’s not racing, but you’re into it,” she murmured, happy for him.
“I didn’t think I would be, but yeah. If I can’t be going balls out down a mountain, then this fits too.” His smile faded. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“I’ll be fine while you’re gone.”
“And when I’m back, you’ll be gone.”
She stared at him as the truth sank in. He appeared relaxed enough, but just beneath the surface she took in his tension. It was there in his eyes, his mouth. “You came to say good-bye,” she realized. “Tonight. Now.”
He let out a breath. “I want you to know that I get that I tend to keep myself emotionally distanced from everything and everyone. But you…” He shook his head as if a little overwhelmed. “I’m not emotionally distanced from you, Katie. I never was.”
Her throat tightened. She moved around the counter to come to stand before him. “The day the bridge collapsed, I was tired.”
“Katie.” He reached for her hand, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to-”
“I want to. I want to tell you what I wouldn’t before. I was really tired of my life. My boss was cheating on his wife with the copy clerk and expected me to keep his secret. My last date didn’t call for a second one. Things felt…sucky. I looked at the bridge and thought-” She shook her head. “I thought if I drove right off the edge, no one would even notice.”
His gaze held a raw compassion. “Oh, Katie.”
“It was just a fleeting thought. Stupid and pathetic, and gone before I could blink. I looked around in the traffic and saw all the other people around me.” She drew a shaky breath. “Living their lives, talking, singing to the radio…and I thought, you know what? Life is what you make of it. I needed to make more of mine. And then in the next minute, it happened. A truck cut me off, I got mad, and then I was skidding toward the edge. Only one thing went through my mind.” She looked into his warm, grieving eyes. “I didn’t want to die.”
He closed his eyes briefly and let out a breath. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you didn’t.”
“Everyone else did,” she whispered.
“I know.” He hugged her in close, hard. “I know.”
“That’s why I dreamed. You were right. It’s what I was running from.” She looked up into his face. “I had planned to keep running until I knew the answer to that.”
His smile faded, his eyes filled with all sorts of things that, frankly, took her breath. “I want you to know I’m okay with it all now,” she told him. “I think I finally have my head on straight. I lived. And now it’s up to me to do something with the second chance. Something more than what I was doing before, which was nothing.”
“I feel the same, Katie. Because of you.”
She smiled. “I guess there’s only one thing to do then.” She lifted a hand and touched him, sinking her fingers into his hair, tugging his head down so that their lips were only a breath away. “Have our good-bye.”
“Katie,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers. “I don’t think-”
“Perfect,” she whispered, mirroring his long-ago words back at him, backing him to the throw rug in front of the fireplace where she pulled off her sweater, shucked out of her jeans. “Don’t think…”
And she tugged him down to the floor.
“God. Be sure.” From flat on his back, he cupped her face and pierced her with those green eyes, gently stroking a finger over the bandage on her brow. “I don’t want you to regret-”
“No regrets, remember?” She straddled him then, her knees digging into the thick throw rug. “No looking back…” She reached for her bra, which he immediately lent a helping hand to, skimming it off her as she wriggled out of her panties, which had him letting out a heartfelt groan of approval.