he muttered.
“So…do you find yourself living on the edge a lot out here?”
She thought bike riding was living on the edge? This was going to be one hell of a long haul. “Yep, we like our edge out here.”
“Oh.” She bit her lower lip. “Well, I’ve read about it.”
Great. She’d read about it. He laughed.
She didn’t. She looked resolutely ahead at the beautiful landscape. “Things are going to change here though,” she said softly. “I can feel it.”
“Is this about the going hog wild thing?”
“None of your business.”
Oh, now she wanted to be private. “You’re not under some misguided impression that you’re going to change your lack of living on the edge while you’re here, right?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, no you don’t.”
“Oh no I don’t what?”
He only groaned. “Just what I need. A walking, talking, irritating accident waiting to happen.”
Her disbelief was clear. “Excuse me?”
“Not on my watch,” he said firmly. “No way.”
“Well I’m not on your ‘watch,’ so relax.” She turned from him and once again looked out the window.
Oh yeah. Right. Relax. She didn’t have a clue. He was short-staffed and exhausted from working around the clock since the fire. The fire that was now going to set back their summer season God only knew how long, and cost a ton of money that Sierra Peak Resort couldn’t afford to lose.
And she wanted him to relax. Good luck. He loved his life here, he really did. His job fulfilled his serious sweet spot for thrill and excitement. His whole life had, ever since his father had first taken him to Tibet at the age of five, where they’d climbed mountains for three straight seasons.
In his own unorthodox way, his father had tried to instill a deep sense of wanderlust within each of his three sons, and the need to constantly push for bigger and better. Chance’s two older brothers, Brandon and Kell, hadn’t exactly embraced the family lifestyle. Like most others, they’d never understood the wanderlust, the inexplicable need to explore and seek adventure. As a result, they’d also never understood their father, or Chance. Both had rebelled against their unstructured and atypical childhoods, and gone in the opposite direction—straight into the military.
Not Chance. Blindly follow authority? Never. He relished his freedom and independence too much for that. As his father before him, Chance craved…well, adventure. Freedom. Not many understood the need. Certainly not a woman, though Tina had been the only one to come close to making him believe she had.
She’d been a kindergarten aide in Colorado when he’d come through on a skiing binge. They’d both been nineteen. Chance had skied his brains out by day and seduced Tina’s brains out by night. She’d been so sweet, so fragile. Compassionate. Ridiculous as it had seemed, he’d been inexplicably drawn to her, and try as he might, he couldn’t get her out of his system. When it had come time for Chance to move on, she’d wanted to come with him, but he couldn’t see her living his wanderlust lifestyle. She’d insisted, tried to prove to him she could by going on a month long trek with her girlfriends. Within five days, just enough time for her to get good and deep into the wilderness in Canada, she’d fallen ill. By the time she’d gotten to a hospital, she’d had pneumonia.
She’d died there.
And though he’d told himself he hadn’t loved her, his chest had felt as though it had caved in. Most of it had been guilt, but he had a terrible feeling it’d been more, much more.
Never again had he fallen for a sweet, little thing with huge, expressive eyes. Never again had he let a woman convince him he needed her for anything but a hot, lusty sexual release.
It’d been awhile since any sort of sexual release at all, thanks to his insane work schedule. Which had to explain why he was driving this annoying-as-hell woman—who just happened to have big, expressive eyes, damn her—and all he could think about was the way that her blouse had continued to cling her to her like a second skin.
Suddenly hot, he leaned forward and flicked off the heater, at the exact moment she leaned forward to crank it up. Their hands brushed, and when he looked at her, his mouth was only a fraction of an inch from hers.
Skittish, she jerked back, and he had to smile grimly. No hot, lusty sexual release coming from that corner.
Now she had her nose pressed to the window, watching the magnificent landscape go by, and he had to shake his head. “I’m guessing you’ve never been in the wilds before.”
“Not unless you count the downtown bus station at about five o’clock in the afternoon.”
“That’s a zoo, not the wilds,” he said, disgusted, and unable to help his curiosity, he asked, “You’ve never even camped?”
“Once.” Her lips curved, and her eyes unfocused a little as she remembered. “In my backyard. I ate marshmallows, drank sodas and sang songs. It was wonderful. Then I was bit by a spider and it got infected, and I threw up the marshmallows. And then on the way to the bathroom, I slipped on the garden hose and broke my ankle.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “Haven’t camped since.” She sighed. “Or eaten marshmallows.” Then she bit her lip and slid him a glance. “And you should know, the last time I was on a bike I broke my arm. I was twelve. But I can swim, just not really well.”
Amazing. Terrifying. “But certainly you’ve traveled around.”
“No.”
How could someone be so content as to stay in one place? It was beyond his comprehension. “So why did you come?”
“Because Lucy needed me.”
“You always come running when people ask?”
Her nose went in the air. “It’s called family loyalty.”
He slowly shook his head. “No obligation would ever hold me to a place I didn’t want to be.”
“You sound bitter.”
Nope. Just uninterested in any serious ties. There was no payoff in getting his heart tromped on, as he knew all too well.
“And anyway,” she said. “Who said I didn’t want to be here?” But her shoulders slumped just a little. Her eyes filled with worry. “God. I hope I’m not a fool to think I can do this.”
Just what he wanted to hear. Sorry, Lucy, he thought as he whipped the Jeep around, not quite managing to hide his relief.
Ally gripped the dash and stared at him, alarm etched on her features. “What are you doing?”
Getting as far from you as possible. “I’ll take you back to the airport.”
“No! You…you can’t.”
“You’re a fool to think you can do this,” he repeated, not very patiently or kindly. “You said it, not me.”
“I know what I said,” she snapped. Right in front of his eyes, she drew herself up, his leather jacket crinkling softly on her body.
And she suddenly didn’t remind him of Tina at all.
“I was just thinking out loud,” she said haughtily. “Don’t listen to me.”
Well, wasn’t that a woman for you. “Don’t listen to you. Is that your first order?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Her stormy eyes blasted him. They should have been icy, but they weren’t, not at all. The woman had quite the passionate streak.
He was certain she had no idea how much of a turn-on that was, or she’d