Chapter 28
Spence was really glad he’d stopped and picked up lunch. He knew it was just a delaying tactic. But so what? Was any guy ever not nervous about “the talk”?
He got out of the SUV and grabbed the tarp he always carried in the back, because you never knew up here when you might need to protect something from an unexpected burst of rain or snow.
He walked over to the spot he frequented himself, with the best, most glorious view down to the marina, over the sound and to the mountains on the other side.
He busied himself a little more than necessary before going back to get Hetty.
And lectured himself while he did it. Either she had meant what she’d said in the cave, or she hadn’t.
Hetty was inherently honest, but maybe she’d been too rattled or hurting too much to dig deep.
Or maybe she had been thinking she needed him to get out of there, so she’d better not make him mad.
No. That wasn’t Hetty. She would never admit to what she had that night if it wasn’t true, even if she was in pain.
Would she?
When he’d helped her over to the chosen spot and they’d settled in, she took the sandwich while he reached into the small cooler, brought out and popped open two cans of soda.
He chewed his own first bite of roast beef sandwich a bit more thoroughly than was really necessary. What did he know about it? He’d never in his life been serious about a woman before. At least, not as serious as he was now.
Maybe because you were waiting for her.
He stopped chewing. Sat there staring out over the vista that felt like a part of him down to his soul, with a mouthful of meat, cheese and the tangy sauce that gave it the kick he liked.
Could it be true? Could that be another reason, maybe the real reason, he reacted the way he did when clients would come on to him?
He’d never really considered it before, but after that night in the cave, he’d thought about it a lot.
He had realized that it was like flipping a switch; that he’d be going along just fine until some woman started the game and, almost with an audible click, he’d turn on that Spence, the one who could banter like the biggest playboy in town.
And all the time, underneath, he’d known he was anything but.
That it was the mask he put on. The protection.
But he’d never really wondered if there was another reason he did it, why he made certain to keep those interactions on the surface, essentially meaningless.
Never wondered if there was a reason he’d never been even slightly tempted to hang on to one of those freely given phone numbers after the client—and some of them had been pretty darned attractive—was on the way back to wherever she’d come from.
But now he wondered if it was that, somewhere down deep, he’d known it would never turn into anything because that part of him was already taken.
By Hetty Amos.
He finally swallowed that very well-chewed bite.
Stared down at the sound below, at the sunlight dancing on the water, at the cargo ship heading out after unloading whatever portion of its load had been sent to Shelby.
He knew in some places they were considered unsightly, but in Shelby they were welcomed, bringing in things from far away.
Of course, pretty much everything was far away from Shelby, so if something you wanted or needed was out of stock, you waited.
And waited. His gaze shifted to the ever-snowcapped mountaintops, and once again deemed it well worth it.
“It’s wonderful to love where you live, isn’t it.”
Hetty said it as if it were a given, not a question. And suddenly he realized this was the key, this was the way to say what he wanted to say, because he knew she would understand.
“Yes. And I especially love the hidden places I’ve never told anyone about, places where I never take anyone.”
She drew back slightly, her head tilting as she studied him. Hetty-like, instead of asking what places, she asked simply, “Why?”
He sucked in a deep breath and took the plunge.
“Because they’re special to me, and I wouldn’t want to show them to anyone who wouldn’t love them as I do.
There’s a spot up on the ridge—” he gestured up and to the east “—where you can see three of the lakes, the sound, and on a clear day all the way to Mount St. Elias. There’s a place in Wrangell where I’ve been watching a family of Canadian lynx grow up and coexist with a herd of Dall sheep.
And a spot lower down where I actually collided with a flying squirrel. Or vice versa.”
She was staring at him now, and he knew she hadn’t missed the significance of this outpouring, right after he’d said he never told anyone about these special places. But he said what he needed to say anyway.
“I want to show you all of those, Hetty. And so many more. Places so beautiful you have to remind yourself to breathe. So amazing, you’re thinking it has to be special effects. Places I’ve hoarded, kept to myself, because there wasn’t anyone who’d look at them or from them and feel what I feel.”
“I would,” she said softly.
“I know. That’s why you need to get well fast, so I can show them to you. All of them.”
“Spence.”
It was all she said, and he didn’t quite know how to interpret it. A spark of fear careened through his brain, that he’d misinterpreted everything. It wouldn’t be the first time. But he had to know, and he had to know now. And so it came out a little bluntly.
“I meant what I said that night in the cave. Did you?”
He thought he saw her take in a breath. Then she looked up, holding his gaze steadily. And said, softly, almost reverently, “Every word.”
His heart seemed to miss a beat then race to catch up. “All this time…” he said and stopped because he had no idea how to finish. But Hetty finished it for him.
“We’ve been hiding, me behind sarcasm, you behind flirting. We’ve wasted a lot of time.”
“We have. That stops now.”
“Agreed.”
A vista as vast as the one they were looking at in reality seemed to roll out in his mind. A future, built on a foundation started more than a decade ago, starring the woman who had changed his life then and would change it again now.
He reached out and with his thumb gently wiped away the trace of that tangy sandwich sauce from the corner of her mouth.
That mouth… He wished he had leaned in and kissed it away.
Her lips parted, and her tongue crept out as if to taste that spot he’d touched.
It was too much and his resistance—resistance that was merely habit, now that they’d admitted out here in the brilliant light of day as opposed to under that Midnight Sun—vanished.
He slipped a hand around the back of her neck in the same moment she reached up to cup his cheek, sending a ripple of luscious sensation through him.
And then his mouth was on hers and the ripple became a wave.
He let her lead, because it seemed the thing to do.
And she did, tasting, probing, until his control snapped.
The next thing he knew they were sprawled on the canvas he’d laid out, arms around each other, deep into a kiss he never wanted to end.
It was everything he’d ever thought it would be in those rare times when the idea crept around his defenses and into his imagination. No, it was more. It was incredible. Staggering. Maybe even astonishing.
What it wasn’t was impossible. Not anymore.
After all these years, after all the sniping and mocking, and his own fakery and pretending, this was what was real. This was what they’d been hiding.
This was what he’d always wanted but been afraid to go after.
And when they finally broke the kiss, they simply stared at each other, blue eyes boring into green, and Spence knew he had never in his life felt anything more right than that kiss and Hetty in his arms.
He wondered if the smile that he couldn’t stop looked half as goofy, as giddy, as he felt. And if Hetty’s smile in return was at how silly he must look or because…she felt the same way. He didn’t have to wonder long.
“That,” she said softly, “was almost worth the wasted time.”
An emotion he’d only ever felt when looking at one of those special, secret places he was going to take her to welled up inside him. The only word he could think of for it was beyond corny, but it was the only word that fit.
Joy.
“I guess we really needed our cage rattled to get out of our old rut.”
“Well, that’s one of the better mixed metaphors I’ve heard lately,” Hetty said, and he knew she was using that old, familiar, tutoring tone of voice on purpose.
Spence laughed and the elation he was feeling practically echoed in the sound of it. He wanted to seize this moment and hang on to it forever.
Just as he wanted to do with Hetty.
Images of the life they could build, here in this place they both loved, unrolled in his head like some video stream.
She could move out of her tiny apartment, maybe into his place.
Or if she didn’t want that, they’d find a new place for both of them.
Some place private, where they could pursue this electric connection they had.
He wasn’t foolish enough to think there wouldn’t have to be some give and take, some adjustments on each side, but they’d do it. They’d do it because it was meant to be, they’d just been fighting it for years. They would—
A loud cough from rather close by made them both jump. They jerked around to see Officer Reynolds standing there.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I saw your SUV up here, Spence, and had some news you need to hear.”
Spence went very still. He heard Hetty suck in a breath.
They both started to get up, but Reynolds crouched down until he was at eye level with them.
His normally neutral, sometimes-thoughtful expression had been taken over by a furrowed forehead and concerned eyes.
Bobby Reynolds took his job very seriously, and Spence again had the thought that he hadn’t appreciated the small-town cop nearly enough.
“We heard from the PD in Portland, finally. They’re really strapped right now, so it took them a while, but…they found your client’s ex.”
The man hesitated and Spence braced himself, already guessing what was coming next from his somber demeanor.
“Get it said,” he told him, reaching out to grip Hetty’s hand in his, squeezing it gently.
Reynolds nodded. “All right. They kept on her, and she finally admitted it. She hired somebody to follow her ex and his new wife up here and kill them both.”