“No, that part was me.”
When she looked into his green eyes this time, they were definitely smiling, accompanied by a quick quirk of his mouth.
Oh boy. If she’d thought him attractive when he was all edgy and badass, it was nothing compared to how he looked when he smiled.
Note to self:
“I’m not uptight and cautious.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She deflated like a popped balloon. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been uptight and cautious, but that’s in my past.”
At that, he out and out chuckled, and every single inch of her reacted.
Amendment of note to self:
“Give me that.” She tried to snatch the file from him, but he simply used his superior height to his advantage, still reading as he held the papers out of her reach. Not for lack of trying, though. Her hands were back on his chest now. Such a hardship, once again soaking up the heat and strength coming through. And something else. The beat of his heart. It was steady as a rock.
Like the man.
A little surprised at the depth of her reaction, she pulled her hands free and stepped back.
Oblivious, he was still reading. “Your reference said you’re conscientious, tidy, and a hard worker.”
“That’s true.” To give herself a minute, she turned away. She’d never combined a panic attack with annoyance and lust before. It left her a little quivery, from the inside out.
“It doesn’t say anything about being adventurous.”
She turned back.
Tossing the file aside, he leaned back against the desk again, all casual as he gripped the wood at his hips and looked at her. “Do you have a sense of adventure, Katie?”
“I slept with you, didn’t I?”
His mouth twitched. “It only counts as adventurous if it was without clothes.”
The image of just that left her a little breathless, as if she didn’t already have enough problems. And she couldn’t have explained her odd reaction to him if she’d tried. In her life, men were aloof, quite preoccupied, and hard to get. Her father. Her last boyfriend, who’d been so laid-back about their relationship he’d had to be checked for a pulse. Of course, as it had turned out, he’d already been married to someone else.
Cam didn’t seem aloof or particularly hard to get. And she’d bet her last dollar that there was far more to him than what he revealed. She didn’t know what exactly made her so sure of it but knew it had something to do with the hollowness she kept catching glimpses of. “I have plenty of adventure in me.” It was a daring statement, but she was feeling pretty damn daring. And she had no idea what made her say what came out of her mouth next. “I was on the Santa Monica bridge.”
“Me too,” he said. “Though it’s been a while.”
“No, I mean I was on it when it collapsed.”
He went completely still, staring at her over the file. “Jesus. Really?”
“Really.”
“How did you-” He shook his head in disbelief. “My God. There was only one survivor, a woman. That was you? How did you make it?”
She let out a shuddery breath. She’d wanted to say it, and she had, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She never did. “I don’t really know. But afterward, something inside me sort of snapped. I looked around at my boring, staid life and…” She shook her head. “It wasn’t enough. So I packed up and set out to make it worth something, at least to me. I promised myself adventures, risk. Excitement. So I got in my car and drove.”
“And landed here.”
“For the next month anyway. After that, I’m not sure, but that’s a part of it, the not being sure. Whatever it is, it’ll be bigger and even more exciting. So in answer to your question, I’m
He was quiet for a long moment, studying her as if seeing her for the first time, all signs of amusement gone. “Doing what you did took guts,” he said very softly, with more emotion in his voice than she’d yet seen from him.
He knew of what he spoke, she realized, and swallowed hard. She hadn’t realized until that very moment just how badly she’d needed someone to get it, get her. “You think so?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” His voice was low, almost hoarse. “I do. And your honesty will get you a lot further than any sense of adventure, always. I’m sorry I teased you.”
And with that, he pushed off from the desk and walked out of the office.
Once Stone and Nick left with their guests on their trip, Cam got away by himself. He needed to think. It used to be that he did his thinking while boarding.
But it’d been just over a year since his spectacular crash, and he’d never gone back to it.
Was he afraid?
Not really. Unless he counted the fact that he was afraid he’d suck. But even that wasn’t enough to have kept him off the mountain.
It was his own mortality.
But dammit, he needed to think. So like the good old days before he could afford a lift ticket, he climbed Widow’s Peak with his board on his back. On a scale of 1 to 10, the climb was a 100; but he’d done it so many times he could have made it blindfolded.
Just not with his bad knee. Holy shit, he was out of shape. By the time he got to the top of the jagged mountain peak, his legs were overcooked noodles and he was breathing like a freight train. He stood looking out at the valley far below, his past life spread out in a blanket of white glory. An icy wind blew over his heated body, slowly cooling him down.
But it wasn’t the sweat drying that made him shiver. It was the knowledge that there was no way in hell he was going to take the board off his back. Every time he tried, his fingers shook, and he remembered the crash in vivid Technicolor. He’d been racing for a world title, lost his concentration, caught an edge, and had woken up in a Swiss hospital. He’d spent a month flat on his back recovering from three surgeries, one of which had nearly killed him. Then he’d spent another eleven months wandering the planet feeling sorry for himself over losing the only thing that had ever been his unconditionally.
The board was a heavy weight on his back. He wanted to be on it. Wanted the rush of the roaring crowd, the feel of the gates as he flew through them, the dizzying speeds as he headed to the finish line…
But that wasn’t going to happen, not ever again.
You’re as good as you’re going to get, his last doctor had declared.
But not as good as he’d once been, not even close. He had seventy percent mobility, which meant he could get out there like the average Joe Blow but…
But.
He’d never again be a world champ using the skills he’d honed from the age of five out of sheer determination, grit, and desperation to get away from the life he’d hated. Even after he’d gone to live with Annie, the determination and grit had remained.
He’d been the best of the best, and because of it had been lifted out of poverty, had been offered a life where he could travel every single day of the year if he chose, a life where people treated him like he was somebody.
And now that was gone, forever. Fuck. Fuck it. Without taking the board off his back, he started hiking back down the hill, ignoring the aching muscles in his good leg and the pain in his bad one. A couple of hundred yards along, he heard a yell from above him. And then, “Oh shit!”
“Cody, watch out for that effing tree!” someone else yelled in equal panic.
