A Fair to Remember (10 page)

“There was a crash. His helicopter was shot down at the end of a mission. He managed to make a hard landing, but three of the men aboard were killed in the fire that ensued. He managed to pull two others free, and he pretty much walked away from it, except for a badly broken leg. His tour was up and he left the army. They gave him a Medal of Valor, but he put it away that day and won’t look at it. Thinks it negates the sacrifices of the men who died. But in truth, I think Jake was just dead tired of war. He came home to find himself again. To find happiness again.” He paused and dried his hands on a towel. “I think he came back for you.”

Her lips parted. Had he? That couldn’t be. He’d never said… and besides, “We’re just… we’ve always been friends, Deke.”

“In all these years, you’re the first woman he’s ever brought here. In fact, you’re the only woman he’s ever talked to me about, which means you’re very special to him. So, forgive me for saying this, but whatever is standing between you and him, think hard before you let him go.” He gestured to his beautiful, empty kitchen. “Because some of us only get one chance.”

She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat that clogged any ability to respond. Deke, who had shut himself up here in the mountains, had effectively eliminated any hope for a second chance after his wife’s death. Isolation was her own instinct, as well. She wondered if Deke regretted his choices now, despite his making peace with them.

Outside the kitchen window, she caught sight of Jake, walking head-down in the rain. Beside him, Monday leapt for joy in the puddles of water and ran circles around him. He was laughing at the dog and, in spite of herself, she smiled, too.

The older man smiled and nodded. “Well, I said my peice. I am going to retire for the night. You two can work out your sleeping arrangements without a chaperone, I trust.”

“I think so.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “This has been a wonderful day. One of the best I can remember in a long, long time. Thank you.”

“The debt’s mine, Olivia. You can’t know the pleasure this day has brought me. Good night, my dear.”

*

Jake found Olivia
sitting by the fire, crackling in the fireplace. Up in this altitude, even August nights got chilly. He stripped out of his rain slicker, hung it on the peg near the door and joined her on the generous cushions that circled the hearth. Monday gave Olivia’s face a quick hit-and-run lick before settling down beside the fire to nap.

She laughed and handed Jake a beer. “So…” she said, “Deke’s had quite enough of us for one day. He’s gone to bed.”

“Good call. He looked tired.” Jake reclined on the pillows and leaned back against the couch.

“You worry about him.” Not a question, but a statement of fact.

Jake wiped a hand down the dampness on his face. “He would kill me for saying it. But I do, all alone up here…”

“I think the feeling is mutual, but for different reasons.”

“No doubt. I gave him plenty to worry about over the years.” He settled down close to her, watching the blaze snap before them. The fragrance of the wood smoke reminded him of all the campfires they’d had at ‘The Rocks’ when they were young. Roasting marshmallows or hot dogs or just staring into the flames. Funny how a scent could take him back.

Olivia’s scent did that for him, too. Her sweet, soap and water fragrance, mixed often, though not at the moment, with leather and horses. No, right now, being this close to her made him hungry, as she had been all day. She was sexy as hell. Why couldn’t he seem to think of anything else but touching her when he was around her?

Could have something to do with the fact he’d been essentially celibate for the past year while getting his business off the ground. He’d been too busy to think about much else. But now, with her close enough to touch, it was all he wanted to do.

“So,” he said vaguely, “where were we?”

She sent him a knowing look. “Talking about Deke’s garden?”

“Yeah… no,” he said, sliding a hand up her arm. “We exhausted that topic.”

“Hmm… funny, I can’t—”

He rolled over closer with a slow grin. “Is it coming back now?”

“Oh. You mean the kiss. I was wondering if you’d forgotten.”

“Wondering or hoping?”

“Not hoping,” she said, with an uncertain smile.

Her words stirred the already spinning eddy of heat, dangerously, inside him. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, then cupped the back of her head in his palm and pulled her gently toward him. “Good.” He brought his mouth close to hers, considering a kiss there, but settled, instead for an exchange of breath as she closed her eyes and waited. “Because I thought about kissing you here. But then I thought—”

Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him.

“—that’s too obvious. Maybe here would be better,” he said, touching a damp finger to the dip between her collarbones as he lowered his attention to her throat where he brushed his jaw against the sensitive skin below her ear. A long, slow shiver traveled down her.

“That would be fine…”

He tasted the hollow there with his tongue, careful not to turn it into a full-fledged kiss. Her skin was hot and quivering and she braced her hand on his shoulder.

“Fine,” he said, “is not a word I’d use to describe the kind of kiss I have in mind.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or torture me?” she whispered, but did nothing to impede his exploration.

“Torture is such a harsh word…” He grinned, trailing a finger between the buttons of her shirt and skimming it lower until the first ones popped open. She grabbed his hand, stopping him. Then he rolled over on top of her, until he’d pressed her down against the pillows behind her.

She whispered, “We… we shouldn’t… you know…”

Disappointment tugged at his brow. “You reneging on the bet?”

“No.” Meaning, he could kiss her, but beyond that…

Jake pressed is hips into hers, just so there was no mistaking his opinion on the subject. He dropped a lingering kiss onto the curve of her breast just above her bra, brushed the backs of his fingers against the spot, then, with hooded eyes, let his gaze roam over her face. “Your call, Canaday.”

He gave her a few heartbeats to cave. He watched the battle going on inside her.
Yes. No. What the hell
? Maybe he was going too fast with her. Pushing her too hard. Maybe she just didn’t want him.

When she said nothing, he rolled off her. “Okay, then. I’ll take the couch tonight. You take the spare room. Get some sleep. It was a real nice day.”

Her lips parted and her eyes filled.

And though it just about broke him to do it, he stood and left her there, sprawled on the pillows, as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall.

*

Olivia sat up,
feeling disoriented, overheated, and angry with herself. Why did she have to stop him? Why hadn’t she just let him kiss her like he’d wanted to?

Gah!
This
was exactly why it she’d sworn off men. Because she didn’t even know how to behave around them anymore. And, for God’s sake, this was
Jake
. Jake, who would
never
hurt her. Jake, who was no boy anymore, but a man—a gorgeous, sexy man—who wanted to kiss her and hold her and—she closed her eyes—treat her the way she’d always longed to be treated.

She pounded a fist into the pillow beside her and felt a tear leak down her cheek. What was she so afraid of? That he would kiss her and she would like it too much?

That he would want a commitment from her?

She stopped breathing.

Yes
.

If she dared to imagine Jake could have possibly come back to make good on the pinky-swear they’d made twelve years ago, that he might want to marry her—

Deke’s words came back to her.
Whatever is standing between you two, think hard before you let him go. He came back for you.

How could she let him go when she’d never
had
him? Whatever Deke thought he knew about them was pure speculation.

No.
That was just Deke being over-protective of Jake. Not wanting her to hurt him. And she couldn’t blame him. Jake had stayed here three months after the army, just pulling his head together.

So, Jake had chosen this week to come back home to check on his uncle because it just happened to coincide with the Big Marietta Fair and the silly promise they’d made. And they were friends. Maybe he was hoping they’d be friends with benefits. People did that, didn’t they?

But he didn’t want to
marry
her.

Ridiculous
.

Not only had he laughed at the idea when they’d been swimming, but he hadn’t hinted about anything more serious than fulfilling a wager since then.

No, he wanted sex. With her. And what was wrong with that? He’d been nothing but playful and sweet, and what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want to let Jake Lassen kiss her any freaking place he wanted to? They were, after all, both grown-ass adults and… and…

Her whole body ached for him.

She shook her head and got to her feet. But, she’d blown it. The moment had passed. Just another lost opportunity in her long history of lost opportunities.

Olivia Canaday strikes again
.

*

A few hours
later, Jake woke from the nightmare in a deep, cold sweat, thrashing in the tangled sheet covering him as if it were trying to tug him back into the fiery crash of that chopper, toward the sound of the men inside, screaming.

He jerked upright, shoving the sheet away. Monday whined and licked his hand. Breathing hard, he threw his legs over the side of the couch and braced his elbows on his knees.

Shit.

The dream. He thought he’d kicked it, but apparently it was alive and well in his psyche. And whenever he dreamed it, it was no damned use to try to go back to sleep, because he just kept seeing it over and over. The gunfire, the crash, the screams.

In all his years as a rescue pilot, he’d only been shot down once. He supposed it was the twelve years of adrenaline-punching hell that preceded that incident that had taken its toll on him, made him unable to keep going in the army. He’d had enough of war and death. He wanted peace, a little normalcy… and he wanted Olivia.

But the dream made three times since he’d been back in Marietta that memories had snuck up and coldcocked him. Three times more than any time in the last five months. What the hell was that all about?

Pulling on his jeans, he headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. His hand shook while holding his glass under the faucet. He supposed he’d opened a door this week that had been virtually closed for a long time. One where emotions and longings crept in. Clearly, he should have left it closed. Allowed himself to stay in that grey place where nothing really touched him—nothing except flying.

But Olivia was the fracture in his defenses, the thing he wanted, more than flying even.

He turned the faucet on again, ran his hands underneath and splashed cold water on his face. He couldn’t make her love him, just like he couldn’t force her back up on a horse. Only she could do that. Either she was willing or she wasn’t. But if she wasn’t willing to risk getting on a horse, what made him think she’d let him in?