At Last (Lucky Harbor) Page 13

  “You’d tell me if there was trouble,” he said.

  Some of her glow diminished. “What kind of trouble?” she asked cautiously.

  “Any kind of trouble.”

  Maybe she wasn’t quite as good at lying as she thought. “I can take care of myself. You know that, right?”

  “That’s the thing, Amy. You don’t have to. You have connections here. Friends. People who care. I care.”

  Hadn’t she just had this conversation in reverse with Riley? And now Matt was the one trying to be there, for Amy. Hell if that didn’t put a lump in her throat, which she ruthlessly swallowed. “There’s no trouble.” Please don’t ask me to promise.

  He didn’t. Without another word, he nodded and let go of her hand, and without much of a choice, she went back inside the diner.

  Chapter 12

  God gave the angels wings and the humans chocolate.

  Two days later, Matt found Amy at the ranger station, studying the big board of trails. She was wearing her hip-hugging skinny jeans tucked into her kick-ass boots and a snug, thin tee with some Chinese symbols on it that he figured he didn’t want to know the meaning of. She was concentrating on the board, brow furrowed, lips moving as she read the names of the trails. Just the sight of her made him both smile and ache.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  She didn’t take her attention off the board. “I’m thinking of walking from the north rim to the south rim.”

  “For… your heart?”

  “For my grandma’s heart.”

  He nodded agreeably. “You’re going to want to take the eastern trail to the top,” he said, nursing the Dr. Pepper he’d picked up at the convenience store on his way in. “It’s the longest, but it’s the only easy-to-moderate way to the top. There’s a loop but don’t take it. Come back the same way.”

  She turned her head and looked at him, and he felt the same punch to the gut that he always felt when they were this close. He wanted to think she felt it too but it was hard to tell. She was damn good at keeping her thoughts inside. “You planning on overnighting again?”

  Her mouth curved slightly. “No. I don’t think overnighting in the wilds is for me.”

  He begged to disagree. He could remember, vividly, how she’d looked in his sweatshirt, in his sleeping bag, in his tent. Hot. “Then you want to make sure you turn around by three or four to get back before dark.”

  She saluted him, the smart-ass, and made him smile. “We could meet up after,” he said.

  Again, her brow furrowed. “For?”

  “To go out.”

  “Out,” she repeated, like the word didn’t compute.

  “On a date,” he clarified.

  “A date?”

  “Yeah,” he said, laughing ruefully at himself. At her. “Unless you’re allergic to dates. Then we could call it something else.”

  She opened her mouth, then hesitated.

  He cocked his head. “You’re afraid to see what happens next.”

  “There aren’t plans for what happens next, remember? No getting attached.”

  “Plans change.”

  She stared at him as if he wasn’t speaking her language. “Why? Why would you want to go out with me? I’m grumpy, and irritable, and frankly, not all that nice a person.”

  “I’ll give you the grumpy,” he said. “But you’re off on the nice thing. You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for, Amy.”

  She was staring at him suspiciously, like maybe he had an ulterior motive for buttering her up. “Not reason enough to want to go out,” she said. “Why, Matt?”

  The easy answer was because he wanted her again. That was also the hard answer. “Because I feel good when I’m with you,” he said simply.

  She let out a breath. “Matt, I—”

  “No. Don’t say you can’t, because I know you’re not working tonight. And don’t say you don’t want to, because there were two of us in my bed the other night. I know what you felt, Amy. I saw it.”

  She just kept looking at him like he’d lost his mind. And hell, maybe he had.

  “You’re a hard guy to say no to,” she finally said.

  “So don’t say it. Say yes.”

  She shook her head, clearly thinking this was a bad idea, but then gave him the word he’d wanted. “Yes.”

  For Amy, the Rim Trail was much more “moderate” than “easy.” But at least it was clearly marked and easy to follow, even if it was a straight-up climb of 2,500 vertical feet.

  She’d gotten lucky finding the first two legs of her grandma’s journey. She was worried about this last leg.

  In the end, she’d gone full circle. That’s what the journal had said.

  Amy sighed. She could only hope that when it came to the end, she’d figure it out.

  Halfway, she took a break at a natural plateau, behind a sheer rock face that was staggering. In front of her was a narrow creek running from pure snow melt. And far below, she could see the Pacific Ocean churning under a sky dotted with white puffy clouds. It looked so perfect and beautiful that it could have been a painting.

  Needing to catch her breath, she sat with the creek at her feet and pulled out her sketch pad, wanting to draw this place, wondering, hoping, her grandma and Jonathon had sat somewhere nearby enjoying the view, three decades earlier.

  It took an hour to sketch in the basics enough that she could finish it up later. As she’d been doing for some time now, she thought about Riley, and hoped the girl was okay. Amy wasn’t used to worrying about others, but she worried about Riley, big time.

  Hungry, she grabbed the lunch she’d packed and ate the brownie first. Heaven, but even soft, gooey chocolate couldn’t keep her brain from going back to her shocking problem.

  She was going out with Matt tonight.

  A date.

  She went for her sandwich next and pulled out her phone to call Mallory, who didn’t pick up. Probably working a shift at the ER or the health services clinic. She tried Grace next and got lucky. “I have a problem.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Grace said with feeling. “I’ve filled out fifty job apps, and no one’s hiring. No one wants me except you. I need to feel useful. Tell me your problem. Tell me all your problems. Need a good girl lesson? What number are we up to now, seven? Always be available when your friend is feeling like a loser.”

  “I’m available,” Amy promised. “And I’ve told you, if you’re desperate enough, we need a bus person at the diner. I offered the job to Riley but I don’t think she’s going to take it.”

  “Nothing personal, but I’d rather take a shift running the Ferris Wheel at the pier than work for Jan. If I worked for Jan, I might have to do something drastic.”

  “Like kill yourself?”

  “Like kill Jan,” Grace said. “Now talk to me.”

  “I’m going out tonight.”

  “Out?”

  Amy sighed. “On a date.”

  There was a complete beat of silence. “Hang on,” Grace said, and there was a click.

  Two minutes later, Grace was back. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve got Mallory on the line too. I wasn’t qualified to handle this problem alone.”

  “Hey,” Mallory said, sounding breathless. “You just caught me. I’m on break. It’s going to be a full moon tonight, and we’ve already had two women in premature labor and a fight victim from the arcade. Better make this quick. What’s the emergency?”

  “No emergency,” Amy said. “I just—”

  “It’s a complete emergency,” Grace interrupted. “Amy has a date with Ranger Hot Buns.”

  Mallory squealed with delight so loudly that Amy had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Jeez!” Amy said. “Warn a girl. And how did you know it would be with Matt?” she asked Grace. “I hadn’t said.”

  Grace laughed. So did Mallory.

  “What?”

  “Well who else could it be?” Mallory asked. “Matt’s the only guy you’ve ever looked at twice. And good Lord
, the way he looks at you is contributing to global warming.”

  Amy flashed to the look on Matt’s face when he’d been buried deep inside her and felt herself go damp. Yeah, the way he looked at her was pretty boggling. The way he did everything was boggling, especially the naked stuff. He was exceptional at the naked stuff, knowing when to be sweet and coaxing, knowing when to not be either of those things. And the things he’d whispered in her ear… He’d given her everything he had, until he’d been taut and quivering with his own need.

  Damn. She wanted him again.

  “So where’s he taking you on this date?” Mallory asked.

  “And what are you wearing on this date?” Grace wanted to know.

  “Okay, why do we have to keep saying date?” Amy asked. “I mean you eat, you talk, you get naked… we don’t have to label it.”

  “It’s supposed to be labeled,” Mallory said calmly, the voice of reason. “It’s supposed to be a lovely time.”

  Amy rolled her eyes.

  “I heard that,” Mallory said. “Now tell me what’s the problem with a gorgeous guy, a really good gorgeous guy, taking you out and calling it a date? He’s got a job, a home, and the best abs I’ve ever seen. Besides, he’s already charmed you out of your pants, right?”

  “Okay,” Amy said to Grace’s unladylike snort. “First of all, the only reason I took off my pants was because I had a cut on my thigh.”

  “That wouldn’t be my first guess,” Grace said.

  “And second of all,” Amy went on as if Grace hadn’t spoken, “it wasn’t a big deal! I was on a hike, and I got lost and—”

  “—And he rescued you,” Mallory pointed out. “Another check in the pro column. The man is hot and he rescues fair maidens in distress.”

  “I wasn’t in distress! I called you first, and you—”

  “—Wouldn’t have charmed you out of your pants,” Mallory said.

  Grace burst out laughing.

  Amy thunked her head against her knees. “You aren’t listening.”

  “Then say it again in English this time,” Mallory said.

  “Fine,” Amy blew out a breath. “I’ve never been on a real date.”

  Utter silence. Amy checked the phone screen to see if she still had reception. “Hello? You guys still there?”

  “How old are you?” Grace asked, sounding confused.

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “And you’re still a virgin?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Amy said with a laugh. “And no, I’m not.” She was just about as far from a virgin as one could get. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I left home when I was sixteen, and after that, it was more about survival than dating.” She’d done what she’d had to, and sometimes that had involved being with a guy because he had a place to stay or food—neither of which meant a “date” in any sense of the word.

  “And then somehow I just never got to a place where dating was really an option,” she said, staring at the creek at her feet. A butterfly had landed on the water and was floundering, trying not to drown. Amy knew the feeling. Leaning forward, she tried to rescue the thing but it was swept away in the current. She knew that feeling, too. “Listen, I’ve got to go so I don’t get stuck up here again.”

  “No, wait,” Mallory said. “Please wait. I’m sorry we laughed at you. I think it’s lovely that Matt asked you out.”

  Amy sighed. Mallory was sounding like maybe she was feeling very emotional—which didn’t really count because lots of things made Mallory emotional. Like the sun rising and setting. Last time they’d watched TV together, Mallory had sobbed openly at one of those save the puppy SPCA commercials.

  “You should go with him, Amy,” Mallory said. “Do the eat and talk thing. But not the naked thing, not yet.”

  Amy winced, keeping to herself the fact that she’d already done the naked thing.

  “Just enjoy your first date,” Mallory said. “And FYI, I have a good girl lesson for you. This one is serious, Amy. Really serious.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “You deserve good things,” Mallory said anyway. “You deserve good people in your life, and Matt is both good and good people.”

  Dammit. Amy’s throat felt tight, and there was no SPCA commercial in sight. “How can a man be both an adjective and a noun?”

  “Trust me,” Mallory said. “Ty’s both. And so is Matt.”

  “I agree with Mallory,” Grace said. “You should definitely go tonight with Matt. But I say do the naked thing.”

  “Grace,” Mallory admonished.

  “Hello,” Grace said. “This is Matt Bowers we’re talking about. You’ve seen him. Gorgeous, built, sexy-eyed Matt. And he wears a uniform. With a gun…” She sighed dreamily. “I’m sorry, but Amy has a duty to get naked with a guy like that and report back. With details.”

  Amy disconnected and resumed her hike. Grace was right, Matt was gorgeous and built, in just about every way a man could be, but she’d gotten him out of her system. There’d be no more getting naked.

  At three o’clock, she stood at the top of a cliff looking down on the four small lakes she’d been at the other day. Way down. She could see a few otters playing along the shore of the first lake, and as she stood there in awe, a fish leapt out of the water, executing a perfect gainer before flopping back.

  Her legs were wobbling from the climb. Or maybe it was from looking down from the dizzying height, but in either case, she could hear her grandma’s voice in her head.

  It felt like a promise. I had my hope, but now I had something else, too, peace. Four Lakes gave me peace.

  Amy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, then opened them again, feeling them burn with emotion. Jesus, what was with her today? But there was no denying the truth. She’d been feeling flickers of hope ever since Sierra Meadows. It was new and tenuous, but it was there. As for peace, she hadn’t been quite sure. When she thought about her life, she knew she’d always lived it to survive. But she was beginning to see that there was more to life than mere survival, so much more. And maybe that was peace right there, just learning that.

  Which left heart, something she’d never believed in for herself and had, in fact, openly mocked.

  But she didn’t feel like mocking it now, and she had no idea if maybe that was thanks to Lucky Harbor, to the friends she’d made here, or… a certain forest ranger that was filling up something deep inside her that she hadn’t even known was empty.

  Matt knocked at Amy’s door. He was early for their date because… well, he didn’t really have a reason, other than he wanted to see her. He had no idea what the night would bring, but if it went anything at all like their other encounters, it wouldn’t be boring.

  Her car was in her parking spot but she didn’t answer. He knocked again, and then when she still didn’t answer, he tried the door. It opened, which didn’t make him feel better—Amy wasn’t a woman to leave her door unlocked. “Amy?”

  Nothing, so he stepped inside. “Hello?”

  Still nothing.

  Her place was small enough that he could see from one end to the next. Her bedroom door was open, and he stepped closer. It looked like a bomb had gone off. A female bomb. Clothes spilled out of the dresser drawers and closet and were scattered across the bed, but no one was actually in any of the clothes.

  The bathroom was damp and misty, as if she’d recently showered. There were girlie things on the counter, tubes and bottles, and the place smelled like sexy woman. A pair of black lace panties and matching bra lay on the floor. Nice. He turned back to the living room.

  There was a small slider leading to a tiny deck area, and it was cracked open. He pushed it further. The thing squeaked like hell and was all but impossible to move, and yet the woman sitting with her back to him didn’t budge.

  This was because she had in earphones that led to the phone or iPod in her pocket and she was singing.

  Off-key.

  She was drawing, too, sketching something from memory, as she
hunched over her pad, a pencil in hand moving furiously over the paper, a bundle of additional colored pencils in her other hand.

  He listened to her sing for a second and felt the grin split his face. Guns N’ Roses, “Welcome to the Jungle.” He cleared his throat, but she kept singing. “Welcome to the jungle, feel my, my, serpentine, I, I wanna hear you scream…”

  Still grinning, Matt reached out and set a hand on her shoulder. Amy nearly came out of her skin. Her pad and pencils went flying, and whipping out the ear buds, she whirled around, leading with a roundhouse kick that would have leveled him flat if he hadn’t ducked.

  “Are you crazy?” she asked when he straightened. “I nearly took off your head.”

  “You had your music up and didn’t hear me.” He bent to pick up her pad and pencils, which she snatched out of his hands and hugged to her chest. She was staring at him, breathing fast. Too fast. She wore a strapless sundress with a colorful print that was sexy as hell. She wasn’t in her usual kick-ass boots, but the heels in their place were still pretty damn kick-ass. If she’d connected with his head, he’d still be down for the count. “You’re not wearing black.”

  She shifted, then shrugged. “It’s Mallory’s.”

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  She wasn’t impressed by the compliment. “You just let yourself into my place?”

  “You didn’t answer my knock. I thought something was wrong.”

  “Well it’s not,” she said. “And I don’t like surprises.”

  “I’m sorry.” He rubbed his jaw and considered her. “I scared you.”

  “I told you. I told you I don’t like it when someone sneaks up on me.”

  She had told him that, last week on the trail, and his gut clenched hard over how she might have learned she didn’t like to be surprised. Slowly he stepped closer, taking her iPod, setting it down on the chair she’d just vacated. Then he took her pad and pencils and did the same. “Breathe,” he said softly, gently running his hands up her arms and then down.

  She exhaled a shuddery breath.

  He inhaled slowly and deeply, and she did the same, and this time when she exhaled, she relaxed marginally. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to take your head off. I left my door unlocked for Riley and forgot.”