Chapter Eighteen #2
Was she the reason he had resigned his job and left the program he loved?
That was beyond ridiculous. Maybe escaping death had made him rethink his whole life, and he had decided to move away and what—he didn’t seem the type to join a monastery or decide to get a PhD in philosophy. But how well did she know him?
Not at all, it appeared. “I don’t know what happened,” she said.
“Connor says Scott is happy about it, whatever the reason,” Nina said. “And Connor will do a good job.”
They reached the patrol station at the top of Lift 7 to find a family from Chicago waiting to buy T-shirts and ask questions. Then they were called to attend a woman who had fallen and injured her knee on a difficult run.
Lily moved from one task to the next in a fog. At the end of the day she headed back to patrol headquarters at the base area, only to be hailed before she could reach the office. “Lily! Wait up!”
She turned to see Denny Endicott and Jackson walking toward her. She smiled. “It’s good to see you both looking so well.”
Denny hugged her tightly, holding on for just a moment. “I can’t thank you enough for all you did for me and Jackson,” he said.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “I’m just so glad everything worked out. Are you both okay? Really?”
“I’m okay,” Jackson said. “I ate a cheeseburger and slept for, like, a day and a half.”
“I’m still dealing with the fact that the man I trusted with my life tried to take my son away from me,” Denny said. “But I have Jackson, and I still have my business and my good name, and that’s all that matters. And you’re okay. And Scott. The two of you will always be heroes in my book.”
She nodded, the mention of Scott’s name a heaviness in her stomach.
“I was just talking to Doug Elam about the avalanche dog program,” Denny said.
“Oh?”
“Jackson told me how Shelby and Hunter kept him warm and safe after he got separated from you and Scott, and how Shelby attacked Mike when he tried to shoot Agent Shipman. In light of that, I want to make sure the avalanche dog program here at the resort keeps going.”
“Dad’s giving the resort a lot of money just for the dogs,” Jackson said.
“Well, and their handlers and trainers and such,” Denny said.
“That’s so generous of you,” Lily said. Scott would love this, she thought. Why hadn’t he stayed to hear this?
“It’s the least I could do.” Denny patted her shoulder. “You’re sure you’re all right now? If you need anything at all, you let me know.”
“I’m fine, really.”
“That’s good to know. I’m glad I ran into you. We won’t be needing you to stay with Jackson for a while.” He looked down at his son, who grinned up at him. “We’re going to take a little vacation, something we’ve been putting off too long.”
“We’re going to Disney World!” Jackson said. “We’re going to ride all the rides at least twice.”
Lily laughed at the boy’s enthusiasm, then stooped to hug him. “You have a wonderful time, and when you get home I want to hear all about it.”
After they left, she retrieved Shelby and her belongings and headed home.
As she stepped off the shuttle at the entrance to her apartment complex, she glanced across the lot and saw Scott’s motorcycle parked in its customary place.
Before she could lose her nerve, she got out of the car and marched across the complex and up the steps to his apartment.
She leaned hard on the bell, then listened as heavy footsteps crossed to the door. After a moment, it opened. “Lily? What are you doing here?”
“I came to ask you what you think you’re doing.” She pushed past him. Shelby followed and hurried to greet Hunter.
Scott closed the door behind her. He was barefoot, wearing joggers cinched at the hips, and a long-sleeved T-shirt advertising a long-defunct brewery, the lettering flaking and faded.
She turned to face him. “I showed up at work this morning and learned I was the only person on the team who didn’t know you’d quit the program,” she said.
“The program you started. The program you gave everything to. The program Denny Endicott just gave a bunch of money to in order to keep us going. How could you do that?”
She was horrified when her voice broke on the last sentence, and tears spilled down her face. Why did she care so much what Scott Linden did with his life? He was betraying the program, not her.
He raked his hand through his hair. “I was going to tell you,” he said. “I was just waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For you to, you know, recover. From your ordeal in the woods.”
“I’m recovered, okay?” She glared at him. “So what the hell are you doing, Scott? Are you running away? Because of what happened between us? And what did happen, exactly? Did it mean anything to you?”
He met her gaze at last. “Did it mean anything to you?” he asked.
She looked away, fresh tears forming. She didn’t want to be this woman, crying over a man who was leaving.
But she didn’t want to be a person who pretended things were all right when they weren’t.
“You were there,” she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper.
“You held me in your arms. How can you even ask that?” That moment had meant everything, not because of the intimacy—though that had been pretty special—but because of everything that came before and after.
The things they had said to each other. The things they had felt for each other.
“Oh, Lily.” He wrapped his arms around her, and she didn’t resist. She wanted to be stronger than that.
Later, she would be. Later, she would tell him everything she thought about him.
But for just this moment she stood, eyes closed, feeling his strength support her, his warmth seep into her, the spice and musk scent of him enveloping her.
She waited for him to say something. Anything. But he only stood there, arms around her, chin resting on the top of her head, as if time had stopped.
She wriggled away from him. “Why did you resign from the avy dog program?” she asked.
“I’m going to work for C-RAD,” he said. “Adam has been after me for months to come work for him, and I decided it’s time.”
“Oh.” She studied his face. “And you would rather do that than stay with the avy dog program and SkyCrest?”
“I think I can make a bigger impact with C-RAD.” He looked at his feet, then up at her again. “And I want to be at a place where I’m not your boss.”
She blinked, not sure she had heard him correctly.
He moved closer, and stroked her cheek with the back of one hand.
“I knew you were special almost from the first,” he said.
“But these few days alone with you…and that night…” He kissed her temple.
“I knew after that night that I didn’t want to lose you. Not if there was a chance…”
She turned her head and found his lips with her own.
This was what she wanted—what she needed.
To be this close to him. His mouth was warm and supple, sparking every nerve in her.
His tongue was silken against hers, the pressure of his lips telegraphing how much he wanted her.
Need surged through her, and she tugged blindly at his clothing, impatient.
He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips still pressed together.
He carried her from the room, into his bedroom, and kicked the door shut behind him.
When he spilled her onto the bed and collapsed beside her, she climbed onto him, tugging his shirt up, kissing her way up from his navel, tracing the contours of his abdomen and ribs, teeth scraping his erect nipples.
He pushed her away long enough for him to pull her fleece top over her head, then strip off his own T-shirt.
She tossed her bra across the room, feeling reckless.
Then he rolled her to her back and began making his way down her body, his lips heated and insistent.
He took his time, stroking and kissing until she was wild with wanting him.
He pushed her leggings and underwear to her hips and clamped his mouth over her with such intensity she gasped. He stilled. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She pushed his head down. “No.” Somehow, that was the only word she could muster. He took the hint and returned to attending to her with the kind of attention she imagined an artist paid to his work.
By the time he rolled away from her she was gasping, and protested at his abandoning her. He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
She closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together, but before she had recovered enough to sit up, he was back, a foil packet in hand, divested now of the rest of his clothing.
She stared at him, appreciating his lean and muscular body—not the physique of a bodybuilder, but the form of a man who spent hours on skis—muscular legs and toned buttocks, broad shoulders and a trim waist.
She raised up on her elbows and watched as he rolled on the condom. Only when he reached for her again did she realize his hand was shaking. She grasped his fingers. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“More than okay,” he said, and pulled her to him once more.
Their earlier desperate fervor had transformed to a quiet intensity.
They moved more deliberately, exploring the contours and curves of each other’s bodies, testing out positions and techniques, watching each other’s faces to gauge the results of each new experiment.
But as pleasurable as this was, the tension could only be borne so long.
She clutched at him and whispered in his ear. “Now. Please.”
His answer was a deep and lingering kiss, and then he was easing into her, grasping her hips and guiding her until they found a rhythm they both enjoyed, a rocking cadence that left her breathless and soaring.
He reached between them to fondle her, and the combination of sensations had her keening with pleasure.
When she dropped over the edge she may have moaned his name, and then he was moving faster, his face a mask of concentration.
His climax shuddered through them both, and she held him tightly, hands digging into the muscles of his back, his forehead pressed to her shoulder.
They lay together for a long time after, until their breathing slowed and settled, and he eased away from her.
He got up and went into the bathroom and returned a few moments later and lay beside her.
She cradled her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I’m not an easy person to be with,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.
She let the words and their meaning settle into her. Was this a confession? A statement of fact? Or a tentative promise for the future? “Neither am I,” she said. She rested her palm against his chest, over his heart. “I’ll tell you what I think without always worrying about sparing your feelings.”
“I already figured that one out. I’d rather that than be left trying to read your mind.”
She lifted her head enough to look at him. “I reserve the right to make you do that, too.” She laughed at the flare of panic in his eyes.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You. Nobody’s perfect. I don’t expect you to be.”
“I’m probably never going to be rich. The kind of work I’m drawn to isn’t always the best paid.”
She remembered what he had told her about his former girlfriend—and his parents—berating him for not being ambitious. “That’s just one of the things I admire about you,” she said. “Money’s nice, but it’s not the most important thing. And I know you love dogs. That’s a big one.”
“Yeah. I love dogs. And kids.”
She stilled. “Too soon?” he asked. “No pressure or anything.”
Again, she laughed. “I already knew you liked children,” she said. “You’re really good with them. But we’ll table this discussion until later.” Much later.
“Fair enough. I’m just trying to put all my cards on the table.”
“Oh. And why is that?”
“I think we could build something real between us,” he said. “I want to try.” He covered her hand with his own. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
Her heart beat faster at the words. Frightening words. Thrilling words. Sometimes the two emotions were so close to being the same. “I love you, too,” she said. She kissed his cheek. “I’m here right now, and I’m not going anywhere. That’s a good start, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” He cradled her against him, and she closed her eyes once more.
It wasn’t a dramatic declaration or an ardent proposal of marriage, but either of those things would have made her suspicious or scared her away.
This was better—a tentative agreement to do their best to love each other.
To see where walking this path together would lead.