there in the middle of the road and dropped her head to the steering wheel while she gulped in some air. And then some more, her hand to her chest to hold in her jumping heart.
She took another moment to breathe, but she couldn’t just stay in the center of the road all day, even if she wanted to. So after a minute, she cautiously took off again. Going five miles per hour, she was grateful when no other car came up behind her so she didn’t have to speed up. When she finally pulled up in front of the lodge, she got out on shaky legs and just barely managed not to be sick.
Cam was outside with a group of teenagers, handing out and signing gear: boards, boots, T-shirts, microfleeces, etc. They were all firing questions at him, laughing and nudging each other, having a great time.
Cam was smiling too. He glanced over at her, already lifting a hand in greeting when he got a closer look at her. He instantly handed over the Sharpie to the closest kid and headed straight for her.
Telling her heart to slow down, that she was fine, fine, fine, she pasted on a smile that he didn’t buy.
“What’s the matter?”
Not quite trusting her voice, she shook her head.
He just kept looking at her in that deep, calm way he had, and she knew she could pretend all she wanted, that she wasn’t really okay, not yet.
“Katie.” He reached for her hand, which was clammy. It was twenty-five degrees and she was sweating.
“I’m fine,” she managed, nodding now, doing her best impression of a bobblehead doll. But then he stepped a little closer, big and strong and capable, cupping the back of her neck in a warm hand. God. She wanted to be fine, she wanted that very badly, but it was hard to keep pretending with him looking at her like that, and she went from nodding to shaking it.
With a low sound of empathy, he pulled her in and stroked his hand down her back. “The truck? The roads? A flashback?”
“All of the above.” Not going to cry, not going to cry…Angrily, she swiped the one tear that escaped and sniffed.
Above her, he set his chin on her head. “It’s okay if you want to use my shirt as a tissue.”
She choked out a laugh as he’d meant her to. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah you are.” He pulled back to look into her face. “And green to boot.”
“I look good in green.” Her voice was shaking. Dammit. She cleared her throat, pretending that she had a frog in it. “Okay, well, I’m going upstairs now.”
“Give yourself a second-”
“I don’t need any more seconds.”
“Next time ask someone else to drive you-”
“No,” she said far sharper than she’d intended. “I’m not quitting my life, Cam.”
A quick flash of hurt crossed his features, but he was good, very good at masking his feelings, and it was gone when he stepped back from her. “Okay.”
She sighed. “That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s the truth, so don’t be sorry.” When he turned from her without another word, she let out a breath and headed up the stairs to the lodge.
Chapter 9
Annie stood in the foyer waiting for Katie. “Kitchen.
In the kitchen, Annie handed over a plate loaded with lasagna, bread, and salad. “Sit. Eat.”
Katie’s hands were still trembling, but unfortunately no panic attack had ever stifled her appetite. She managed to stuff a bite into her mouth, then moaned in sheer pleasure.
“Yeah?” Annie asked, staring at her.
“Oh, yeah. Seriously, it’s great. It’s-”
“Yeah, yeah, I cook like an angel. Listen, I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“Did you see any of the guys today?”
Okay, so Annie had seen Cam hug her. “It’s not what you think.” Even if Katie wanted it to be exactly what Annie thought. “He was just…comforting me.”
“You mean Cam. You and Cam?”
“Well…yeah. What did you mean?”
Annie was frowning. “He’s not your type.”
“No,” she admitted. Her type was the laid-back LA guy who couldn’t be bothered to tell her he already had a wife, or the guy who didn’t call for a second date when he said he would. “He’s more alpha than I’m used to. And a bit dark and broody. And-”
Annie arched a brow. “And?”
“And nothing.”
Annie stared at her for another beat, then visibly shook it off. “Okay, when I asked about seeing any of the guys today, I meant Nick.”
“Forget it.” Annie looked like she was going to do her best to do the same. “Nick flew Stone and a group for a heli-ski, but they came back an hour ago. He usually comes into the kitchen to see me.”
“But didn’t you tell him not to talk to you ever again?”
“Well, I didn’t mean it, did I?” Turning away, Annie started rinsing dishes. Her hair, in a loose knot on top of her head, vibrated with tension. “This is so…asinine!” She poured enough soap into the sink to wash all the dishes in California. “He stopped seeing me, you know. He stopped looking at me.”
“Because you’re divorcing him?”
“No, it’s
“Oh, Annie. I’m sorry.”
“Asinine,” she repeated.
“Maybe you could fix it.”
“How?” Annie waved her sponge and bubbles rose in the air between them. “The man didn’t see me! I’ve had a thing for him since second grade. I love him more than…more than
Katie tread carefully, knowing how proud Annie was, which actually seemed to be a universal Wilder trait. “Maybe he needs your help to see you.”
Annie looked at her. “What? How hard is it? I’m standing right here.”
“I know, but sometimes guys need to be hit over the head, so to speak. They’re visual creatures.”
“Oh, Christ on a stick. Don’t say I need a damn makeover or some such shit like that.”
“How about new clothes?”
Annie looked down at herself. “There’s nothing wrong with these.”
“No, not if you’re a six-foot, two-hundred-pound teenage boy. You have such a great figure, but you hide it.”
“I’m chunky.”
“You’re curvy,” Katie corrected. “And if you dress for something other than the rumble in the parking lot, you could show it off a little. And-”
“Ohmigod. There’s an ‘and’?”
“A very little one. Makeup.”
