Hidden Summit

Page 12

The student seated behind Conner snapped closed his laptop and tucked it under his arm to leave.
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to tempt fate....”
“Fate? No. Just you.”
“Oh, that was blunt,” she said.
“I know, I’m bad that way. Sometimes I’m too honest. It can make people uncomfortable. I didn’t really mean what you think, Les. I understand some of your worries. They’re an awful lot like mine. I haven’t asked a woman out on a date of any kind for a long, long time. I haven’t even asked for a phone number or bought one a drink. I just didn’t want to—as you put it—tempt fate. I know you don’t want to be in a position where you end up getting disappointed. Me, either. I had the same thing happen—she cheated. We divorced. I’m still pissed off about it.”
Leslie was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry we have that in common.”
“Yeah, it shouldn’t happen to anyone. And we have more than that in common, I’m afraid. You have parents in Oregon and you made it clear, you’re going back there eventually. Well, lots sooner than eventually, I’ll have to find work near my sister and nephews, my only family. I’m going to have to go home or move them. I told you, didn’t I? She’s alone—her husband was in the army and was killed several years ago in Afghanistan. I want to be closer than this. I want to be part of their lives, especially since the idea of a family of my own isn’t on my chart anymore. So, just like you, I’m not interested in getting in over my head. As far as I’m concerned, another marriage is out of the question for me. And up until just lately, I wasn’t even ready for friendship with a woman. But then I met you. I think we can be friends. I think we already are.”
She frowned. “Why me?”
He laughed in spite of himself. “Seriously?”
“Why don’t you hang out with Dan? Or some of the guys on Paul’s crews?”
He grinned at her. “Well, let’s see… Their necks are so scratchy,” he said, rubbing his hand over his goatee. “You’re pretty and you make me laugh. I like the way you boss people around. That whole toilet seat mission—that kind of thing used to just annoy the hell out of me.... My sister does that. She’s little, you know? But she has no trouble getting the men in her life to put the seat down.”
She stiffened. “It’s common courtesy when you share space with a woman!”
“That’s what she says. So how about the four-o’clock show in Fortuna, dinner in Arcata after? I say four o’clock because it’s such a damn long drive. Going anyplace around here is a damn long drive.”
“I haven’t been on a date since… I don’t remember.”
“Think of it as a couple of friends catching a movie and a meal,” he said. And then he flashed her the dimple, and she knew what kind of friends he’d like them to be. It made her gulp and shiver in need. “I could lower my standards and make it a chick flick,” he said.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No chick flick.”
His blue eyes grew smoky and dark. “Leslie, you could do a lot better than me, there’s no question about that. I think it’s pure coincidence we have the same post-divorce trust issues. So no expectations, just whatever good times fall our way.”
“Listen,” she said, “I think I know where you’re headed with this idea—this friendship idea....”
“I don’t think you really do, Les. Because anything beyond a movie, dinner and some laughs is entirely up to you. Your call. I swear to God.”
Conner was serious about a day off. He needed to relax and enjoy himself, though he had to admit that hanging around with some of the guys from town filled a certain need. He liked the masculine camaraderie; he liked working on a project with people as opposed to alone.
But while Luke Riordan went into town on Sunday morning to help on the school, Conner helped himself to a rod and reel from the storage shed. When he made it to the river, he found Luke’s helper, Art, already casting. They exchanged their greetings, and Art told him which rocks were the slippery ones.
Conner had been here four weeks and something had happened to the place since April had arrived—it had exploded with new growth and color. The sun was out almost every day, the river, as Jack had promised, was swollen, and the trout were jumping. Wildlife, from deer to wolves to bear, had begun to appear here and there with new young—in meadows, at river’s edge, even in backyards. After a long, dark, snowy winter it was officially spring and the town’s spirits rose with the temperature. It had been a good-natured place since the day he arrived, but now there was an uplifting mood and lots more laughter—spring fever. He’d heard all about their winter of record snowfalls and how the men of the town, including his boss, had had to get together to deliver supplies to those in need, clear the roads, rescue people who’d been snowed in.
That whole business of one for all and all for one that they had going on—that held an appeal for Conner. As a big-city guy, he hadn’t had that in a long while, not since his army days, if you got right down to it.
He caught a fish, a nice, fat trout. He briefly wondered if he’d made enough progress with Leslie to convince her to cook it and decided he’d better move slowly. “Art, you think your boss would like this fish?” he asked.
“Boss?” Art asked.
“Luke?”
Art laughed. “Luke’s my partner. Luke and Shewby are my family. They found me. And kept me.”
Yeah, the danger was not falling in love with a woman, Conner thought. He risked falling in love with the whole damn town.
By the time Conner arrived for Leslie on Sunday afternoon, she had already spent an entire day being tense and unsure of herself—big surprise. She had come to a few conclusions. Such as, life wasn’t going to get a whole lot easier and more enjoyable if she avoided gorgeous men like Conner. And she hadn’t been tempted by a man in a very long time. Very. Long. Time.
She had decided she wasn’t going to try too hard. She wore her hair in the usual way—loose curls. Her makeup was the same as she’d put on for work every day. She did choose an extra nice pair of jeans, boots, crisp white blouse and blazer, however. Nothing special. They were just friends catching a movie.
When she opened the door for him, she found him just plain dreamy-eyed. “God, you look fantastic,” he said almost weakly.
And she burst out laughing.
“This is funny, how?” he asked.
“I don’t look any different. Well, the jacket, that’s a little different. You, on the other hand, are wearing pants. Not jeans but pants. Whew. Should I change?”
“Are you a little fidgety?” he asked, smiling at her.
“I haven’t been on a—” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t been a couple of friends catching dinner and a movie in a really long time.”
He stepped into her house, slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her very close and asked, “Did I give you too much to think about, Les?”
She looked up into those vivid blue eyes. She nodded, and she could tell he smiled because the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened a little bit.
“Then maybe we should just get it over with,” he said and came down on her mouth. He moved expertly; his bristles coaxed open her lips. His tongue tangoed with hers briefly; she made a little noise as her hands slid up his arms toward his shoulders. His kiss grew a little more penetrating; he pulled her a bit closer. Without leaving her lips, he whispered, “You taste good. Good.”
“You’re my first mustache,” she whispered back.
He lifted his brooding, thick brows. “Like it?”
She nodded, and he went in for the kill a second time, overpowering her lips, going deep, bending her back over his arm. He gently licked her upper lip, her lower lip, then devoured her once again. That was three, she thought. Three deep, wonderful, wet, hot, amazing kisses.
She was screwed. She wanted him. All of him.
“We should probably think about that movie,” he whispered.
“What movie?” she asked.
And he laughed, releasing her slowly so she wouldn’t collapse. She righted herself, grabbed her purse, left a kitchen light on for later and joined him at the front door.
“It’s harder now, being older and knowing the pitfalls and consequences, isn’t it?” he asked her. He held the front door for her. “I remember being sixteen, going out with a girl in a car for the first time and being pretty strung out, but more excited than scared.” He chuckled. “I should’ve been scared—she ate me alive. She wasn’t happy about too much—she didn’t like the movie, the food wasn’t right, she didn’t want to make out....”
She laughed at him. “Poor Conner.”
He opened the passenger door to the truck and helped her up and in. “I learned to pick ’em better after that.”
“Went straight for the ones who wanted to make out, huh?”
“Well, of course,” he said, slamming the door. He came around and joined her in the cab. “I didn’t pick you solely based on the making out aspect, though I do see the potential, it being your first mustache and all.”
“I never dated much. I had a couple of boyfriends before I met Greg, but nothing too serious. But I bet you always had girls.”
“Not always, just sometimes. I kept pretty long hours at work, it seemed. One short marriage.” He looked over at her. “I am going to tell you more about that, you know. But not tonight. I don’t want to spoil tonight. I want to have fun.”
“I understand completely. It’s been a year and a half for me, too. Not so much as a cup of coffee.” She let go a little laugh. “What a couple of go-getters we are.”
“But this isn’t really our first date,” he said. “More like our third with lots of contact in the middle. We had a couple of coffee dates, I’ve insulted you at least once, we had a flower planting date with a take-out dinner chaser, and this is a dinner and movie date. And we saw each other almost every day for three weeks until you moved the trailer. If we were in high school, that would equal carrying your books to class all week, then meeting you at the burger barn on the weekend with the gang....”
“Then making out,” she added.
He grinned at her. “Absolutely.”
Leslie found the nervousness of her first post-divorce date had gone within ten minutes of getting in the truck with him. Being with him was so easy. He had this gruff exterior and a deep sexy voice, but he had a very soft center. His honesty charmed her to the marrow of her bones. Everything about Conner seemed spontaneous and real as opposed to premeditated. He was what he was, take it or leave it.
The movie was a sci-fi thriller, very tense. When she gripped his arm, he put it around her shoulders and pulled her protectively close. When they went to a nice restaurant in Arcata, she spent the whole meal praising the food and telling him all the things she liked to cook; he told her everything he liked to eat. On the long drive home she talked about how much she’d like to travel more than she had, which was very little, while he talked about how little wanderlust he had. Home was all that mattered to him. If he could stay in the same place forever and always know where a couple of beers and his TV broadcasting pro football games would be, he’d be content.
“I love football,” she said. “But I’d still like to travel.”
“I’ve never really had the time or money for travel, but if I did, I can think of a few things I wouldn’t mind seeing.”
“Like?” she pushed.
He shrugged. “The Super Bowl?”