The Way Back (6 page)

“Then I guess I’m going to sleep in my car.”

“Your car?” Was she really that persistent? If so, what hope did he have of resisting her?

“You think I won’t?”

There was a challenge if he ever heard one. “I think it would be uncomfortable and a complete waste of your time. Gabby, I’m never going to agree to this.”

“There was a reason you took the advance in the first place. You wanted to tell your story.”

She was right. He couldn’t lie about that. The idea of a book held a certain appeal. He wanted to put it all down some place, written concrete proof that he’d been here—proof to the world of how far he’d come while, at the same time, offering tribute to the people who had helped him along the way. His life growing up in the backwoods of Maine, how he made his way out and into the Air Force Academy. He wanted to shout from the rooftops about what he’d done. Not necessarily about the rescue in space—he hadn’t planned on that rescue and his actions had been a combination of instinct and training.

No, he wanted to talk about the other things in his life, all those achievements that took total mental focus and discipline to push himself to the next level and the next level. Something he’d done time and time again. It felt corny to say, but he’d been proud of himself and wanted the world to know.

Then
it
happened and suddenly all of his accomplishments were nothing more than ashes on the ground. It had been the darkest moment of his life. Worse than anything that had happened to him as a kid, or during his training at the Academy.

He couldn’t share that humiliation and pain, that sense of intense loss and failure. Not with anyone. Certainly not with the world.

“It isn’t going to happen, Gabby.”

She polished off her bourbon and squeaked a little. “At least now I have you calling me by my name. That’s a positive.”

“If you think so.”

“I’m not going to stop. I’m not some wimp. I may not look like it, but I am tough. Real tough. When my father left us, I took over everything. Paying the bills, keeping our heads above water financially. Working extra jobs and staying in school while I did it. You know how I got through all that?” She stood as though to emphasize her point. “By being
tough.
Your stubbornness is not going to dissuade me.”

He realized she was a little wobbly on her feet. Two drinks, no food, probably not very nice of him. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at him blankly.

“About your father leaving you.”

“Did I say that out loud?”

Oh no, Houston. We definitely have a problem.
“You sit. I’m going to make you…” Since he had no idea what he had in his refrigerator he let that trail off. He made his way to the kitchen and was happy enough with what he saw. Ground beef and rolls would make for some pretty good hamburgers. She would probably get upset over the menu, remembering their shared meal from the other day. He would have to tell her they were diet burgers.

She followed him into the kitchen. “I think I’m a little woozy.”

“No kidding. Sit,” he said directing her to one of the chairs surrounding a small table for two. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

“That’s nice. I only had toast this morning.”

No wonder the alcohol had put her on her butt. Especially after the day she had. He looked at her sitting there still dressed in her running outfit, which made her look sporty even though he suspected she didn’t have an ounce of athletic ability in her body. But she’d carried Shep up a steep climb and that said something about her heart if not her strength.

He formed the meat into patties. Then he plugged in his countertop grill. Normally, he’d fire up the barbecue outside but this was faster and since it advertised on being a healthier way to cook, it might make her feel better about eating ground beef on a bun. Because he was going to add cheese. There was no way to eat a burger without it.

Before long, the patties were cooked and Jamie added the condiments then served.

“This looks so good right now,” she said with a half smile. “But you know I can’t—”

“Eat,” he ordered and did the same.

Hunger and wooziness must have won out over calorie counting because she took a bite and then another. He watched her and thought about the last time he’d been in this situation. Having a meal in his home with a woman he was attracted to. It felt uncomfortable and good all at the same time. Then he considered what she was feeling in return, if anything.

Did she even see him as a man or only as the means to an end? He recalled making the comment about their meal together at the diner being a date and the way she practically freaked out on him.

It wasn’t the typical eyebrows raised look of a woman who simply didn’t trust dating a known adulterer. It was more like the reaction of a woman who was simply afraid of men.

“So do you see your father at all?” Jamie asked.

Gabby put the burger down and nodded as she swallowed her bite. “Holidays and such. Not too often though since my half-sister got married.”

“Don’t like the husband?”

“I liked him well enough when I was engaged to him.”

Jamie winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. In a weird way, I have you to thank for it, too.”

This wasn’t going to be good. He braced himself.

She finished the last bite, closing her eyes as though to savor the taste of it. The action made him instantly hard. Then she wiped the grease off her mouth with the napkin he held out for her.

“When everything was happening to you and the stories were all over the paper, at first I thought it couldn’t be true. Then when it was proven true—those pictures of you at the motel with your wife and that woman… I thought no woman is safe. All men must cheat. So I started paying a little more attention to those late nights Brad claimed to be working and the sudden weekend business meetings. I followed what turned out to be some pretty obvious evidence and at the end of the trail was him in a bed with my half-sister. At the time I wanted to write you a letter thanking you for saving me.”

“That might have been the only letter I received that wasn’t hate mail. I would have treasured it.” He laughed to show exactly how serious he wasn’t.

She looked at him with an expression he knew well. This wasn’t condemnation or disgust. This was hurt. As though he had walked up to her and popped her balloon with a pin.

“Why?”

She wasn’t the first to ask. And she wouldn’t be the last he refused to answer.

“I think you need to go.”

She gave him that wounded expression again. He was sorry for it, but he didn’t change his mind. She was making him feel things he didn’t want to feel. His emotions were a little too close to the surface at the moment. And his best way of coping, of containing those emotions was to get the hell out of this situation.

“You said you could spend the night in your car. Well, you’re going to have to. You can’t drive anywhere since I pumped you full of booze. And you can’t stay here. So, the car it is.”

“I can’t stay?”

“No, because if you did, I might want to restore my image as a hero in your eyes just to make the hurt you feel go away. And that wouldn’t do either of us any good because I’m nobody’s damn hero.” Yeah, that was true. But that wasn’t the entire reason. And somehow he felt as though he owed her his full rationale. “You want to know the real reason I’m kicking you out?”

“Yes. No.”

“Because if you stay here for another minute I swear I’m going to have you naked and underneath me.”

CHAPTER FIVE

G
ABBY
HUDDLED
IN
the backseat of the rental listening to the sound of rain hitting the roof. Heavy rain drops falling at a rapid pace. The word
deluge
would not be an inappropriate descriptor. It wasn’t helping the headache she was nursing as the effects of the alcohol wore off and the hangover took hold.

Shifting, she glanced between the two front seats to see the clock on the dashboard. Barely after midnight. So much for being tough. Not much of that to be seen in the midst of the cold and fear.

And loneliness.

Great plan, Gabby. Come to Maine. Meet the legendary Jamison Hunter. Get him to write a book. No, even better, write the book yourself. Then maybe everyone will love you again.

What a joke. Instead she’d done nothing more than annoy him for a couple of days, get herself kicked out of a respectable bed and breakfast and his home. Not that it had been anything she’d done, she told herself.

Naked and underneath me.

The words had naturally stunned her. And frightened her. And turned her on. Jamison Hunter wanted her. What the hell was up with that?

A flash of white surrounded the car and two seconds later a crack of thunder sounded in the night sky. If it was possible, the rain fell harder.

Images of the rain turning into a river and the car floating off the island out to sea started to flicker through her mind. Those thoughts were slightly less terrifying than trying to imagine what being naked with Jamison would be like.

It would be awful. Not
him.
She was sure he’d be incredible. A man like him exuded sexual confidence and fierce physicality. No doubt his body was hard and rippled with muscles if the way he looked in his jogging clothes was any indication.

She could see it now, them together in his bedroom, stripping off each other’s clothes, really into each other. Then it would take only a flash of her bare skin to remind her of everything she hated about her body. Her breasts were too big, her hips too wide, her butt…

Well, let’s face it. A big reason she was huddled in a car on an island off Maine waiting to be swept out to sea by a deluge of rain was the size of her butt. She wondered what her replacement for
Wake Up, Philadelphia
was doing right now. Probably curled in some nice warm soft bed dreaming about how secure and happy her life was. Not even conscious of the day when it would all be ripped away.

Another flash of lightning flickered and Gabby huddled tight waiting for the thunder. It rattled. Then it stopped and she heard a pounding on the car window. Startled, she screamed and watched as the lightning flashed again and illuminated a large figure outside the car.

“Gabby, it’s me. Open the door.”

It took a moment for the words to penetrate through the adrenaline haze. Jamison was trying to open the driver’s door and so she leaned between the seats and lifted the lock.

The door opened and a spray of rain followed him inside. He was wearing a rain coat but even from here she could see the walk down the driveway had soaked him. She’d moved the car away from the house so as not to be tempted to knock on his door late at night. But she hadn’t gone any farther than the bottom of the lane in case there did happen to be a murderer lurking about the island looking for defenseless women sleeping in their cars…during a thunderstorm.

“You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry. Give me the key. I’ll pull up to the house. I didn’t realize there was going to be thunder when—”

“You kicked me out?”

“Key, Gabby.”

She reached into her pocket and handed him the key, but pulled it back at the last second. “Does this mean I’m going to have to have sex with you?”

Jamison was quiet for a moment. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

She snorted. “That’s not a fair question. I’ve been fantasizing about Jamison Hunter for the past ten years of my life.”

“Why? Why me?”

Because he was everything to her. Everything she wanted to believe a man could be and he made her feel safe. Hell, she even felt safe right now.

“You were heroic. Smart and handsome, brave and daring. You were larger than life. But I also thought you still might be someone who a person could sit beside and have a beer with. You made me feel safe in a dangerous world.” She stared out at the night, a little too embarrassed by her honesty to make eye contact. “Must seem silly to you.”

“It does. What you saw was a fake image of me. A caricature the news created. If they could have, they would have had me walking around like a damn superhero. But I’m not talking about that guy and back then. I’m asking, do you want to have sex with
me?
The man you’ve known the past few days?”

That question was way more difficult. The answer that leaped to her mind was something she really didn’t want to think about. So she went with her third thought.

“It would compromise my professional integrity.”

For whatever reason he found that hysterical. She waited until he’d stopped laughing so hard then handed him the key. He drove up the winding hill to his home. When they were parked next to his truck, he turned the engine off and for a time they simply sat listening to the thunder and the rain.

“You can have the guest room.”

“Thanks.”

Jamison didn’t say anything more but she felt he wanted to. He wanted a real answer from her and not only because it might result in him getting laid. There was something else there, a vulnerability she sensed in him. And if that didn’t make him a little more attractive, she didn’t know what did.

He opened the door and made a break for the porch. She wasn’t going to worry about her luggage and instead grabbed her purse and followed, squealing as the rain pelted her. Once inside, they walked through the house quietly.

“Do you want anything?”

“Just a bed.” It wasn’t hard to admit she was exhausted. The emotional roller coaster of the day had taken its toll and it wasn’t like she had gotten any sleep in the backseat.

She followed him up the stairs which overlooked the spacious living area. From above she could see everything in one glance and noted it was definitely a man’s home. All stark lines and manly colors. It seemed a bit formidable. There were no decorative pillows. A room where people lived needed the softness of pillows. Only the skylights, which were black tonight, suggested any whimsy.

The stairs opened to a hallway off of which were two doors.

“That’s the guest room.” He pointed. “Should be clean. I have someone who comes in every other week and, even though I tell her not to bother, she’s a stickler for cleaning every room.”

“Thanks.” Gabby started toward the door and stopped. This wasn’t going to be a good idea. In her mind she could already see how bad of an idea it actually was. But having your life ripped out from underneath you made a person a little more daring. When there was nothing to lose, there was also no fear.

“Jamie?” She turned and saw him standing there. His face was hard, but also a little sad. A little lonely. “If I were a different person, I would want to…you know…with you. The person you’ve been these past few days. I like this person. But I’ve been burned. Badly. And you, you’re a—”

“I’m a cheater. I cheat,” he said softly, sounding like a man who had spent his life whipping his skin out of guilt.

“Yeah, you cheat,” she said. As much as he attracted her and fascinated her she could never let herself be involved with a man who, at heart, she couldn’t trust.

“Goodnight, Gabby.”

“Okay.” She turned her back on him then and entered the guest room finding a light switch on the wall. When she closed her door he was already inside his bedroom. She hated herself a little bit for hurting the man even more. Because what she said had hurt him. She knew that. And no man deserved that on the day he had to put his dog to sleep.

* * *

B
LINKING
HER
EYES
OPEN
, Gabby registered the sunlit room around her. For seconds she had no idea where she was, but really didn’t care because she was completely comfortable. The bed was soft, the sheets were crisp, the pillow under her cheek was plump. She wasn’t wearing her usual pajama bottoms and tank, instead a sports bra and her panties.

Had she gotten lucky last night?

Instantly the fog cleared from her morning brain and she remembered it all. Carrying Shep up the hill. Seeing tears in Jamie’s eyes. Getting drunk with him, getting propositioned by him and then stabbing him through the heart with the truth she would never get involved with a man who she knew had been unfaithful to his wife.

Fun day.

And it wasn’t really over. He’d been good enough to allow her to stay in his house rather than try to sleep in the car during a thunderstorm, but according to the sun filtering through her window, the storm had passed and he was probably downstairs waiting to boot her out again.

He wasn’t going to let her write a book about him. She wasn’t going to let herself have sex with him. Now all that was left to do was say her awkward goodbyes, slink back to New York with her tail between her legs and hope she could beg her boss not to fire her.

Today was looking even better than yesterday.

Groaning she rolled on to her back and wondered what would happen if she stayed in here all day. He wouldn’t be so rude to throw her out wearing nothing but her sports bra and panties, would he?

Naked and underneath me.

Those words came alive in her brain and reminded her of his raw side. She figured she shouldn’t take the chance. Climbing out of bed, she dressed in her running outfit. Given the long drive back to New York ahead of her, she was going to have to ask one last favor—use of a shower. She would grab her suitcase from the car, shower and change with a promise never to bother him again.

So why was she standing immobile in the middle of the room?

Because none of the options she’d outlined for today were appealing to her. Except maybe the shower.

Her cell buzzed from inside her purse and, as if it were some kind of magic fairy ready to provide some new answer to all her problems, Gabby pounced on it. When she saw Melissa’s name hope turned into dread.

This was it. Probably best to give her boss a heads-up as to what was happening. Maybe ask if she would actually consider accepting the advance from Jamie, because Gabby was convinced nobody was ever going to get this story.

“Hey, Melissa.”

“So, tell me. How are you doing? Still making progress?”

A hundred responses ran through Gabby’s mind and ridiculously, foolishly, none of them were remotely truthful. Well, one was. “You are never going to believe where I am. I’m speaking to you right now from Jamison Hunter’s guest room. He’s asked me to stay with him.”

“What? Seriously? As in stay with him while he tells you his story?”

“I can’t think of any other reason he would invite me to stay, can you?”

“No.” Melissa laughed. “I mean, why put up with a complete stranger if you aren’t at least interested in the idea of having her do your story? Great job, Gabby. Way to get him to open up.”

Gabby bit her lip and wondered if there were any lingering bolts of lightning from last night’s storm that might be getting ready to strike her down. “Thanks. It hasn’t been easy, but I think he’s coming around.”

Liar! Are you really so pathetic you would put off getting fired again for a few more days? A week at most?

The answer was obviously yes.

“Okay, well, look. We’re going to need a commitment at some point. But I don’t want to spook him. If he’s opening up and working with you, let’s go with that for now. Like I said before, I can’t guarantee you the job of ghost writer, but any notes and prep work you do on this will be compensated. Does that sound fair?”

“Really fair.” Especially since there wasn’t going to be any notes or prep work. “Maybe a couple more weeks and I should have something concrete for you.”
Like my resignation when I turn up in New York with nothing.

“Two. I need to justify the expense of having you in Maine. Although I guess if you’re his guest, it should considerably cut down on your expenses.”

Melissa was laughing and Gabby tried to chuckle along with her, but all she could imagine was spending another two weeks in her car. Was it worth it? Two more weeks of dodging being a failure?

Again, yes. Two weeks would buy her time to think about her next step. Two weeks would give her time to plan. Two more weeks with Jamison Hunter. Gabby shook her head. What the hell was she doing?

“And if you could send me a picture or something, that would be great.”

“You want a picture? Of Jamison?”

“Just something that shows you are where you say you are. I’m not doubting you. I’m not. I want to be able to show something to my boss so he can see we are finally making progress.”

“I guess.” How hard would it be to text Melissa a picture of the man? “Okay. Well, I think I smell breakfast.”

“Listen to you. Jamison Hunter—at one point named the sexiest man alive—is about to make you breakfast. Are you freaking?”

Not half so much as when he told her he wanted to see her naked. That was full on freaking. “I’m cool. He’s just a man, Melissa. He puts his pants on one leg at a time. Not that I’ve seen him put his pants on or anything—”

“Don’t worry. I know you wouldn’t let anything sexual happen between you two. Very unprofessional. Besides, I can’t imagine you’re his type.”

Ouch.

“I’m sorry, Gabby. I really didn’t intend to sound as bitchy as I just did. I just meant— I mean— He’s Jamison Hunter. He’s probably dating supermodels in between having actresses imported onto the island.”

“No worries. You’re so right. What would a man like him ever see in someone like me? Well, I should go. I’ll check in, okay?”

“Okay.”

Gabby ended the call and tossed her phone into her purse. It was done. She’d lied and bought herself two additional weeks. She felt as though she was in some weird limbo place. She didn’t want to go back. She couldn’t see her way forward. She wondered if this was how being a ghost felt.