Definitely, Maybe in Love

“You got me thinking,” he continued, “that night at the party when you said you don’t dance to male singers. I was creating a sample. Show you what you’ve been missing.” He smiled at me briefly then moved his focus back to the road. “I guess I jumped at the chance when you allowed me to load a playlist.”

“I didn’t allow. You confiscated my phone in the middle of the night.” I chewed my thumbnail for a minute. “Tell me about the last song.”

Henry lifted a surprisingly big grin then chuckled under his breath. “To tell the truth, I pulled in a ringer for that one.” He adjusted the seat belt across his chest. “I called my sister Cami that night, told her what I was doing, and for whom.” He gazed out the side window. The headlights of an oncoming car flashed across his glasses. “She’s a few years younger than you, but I credit her with impeccable taste in most everything. I ran off the list of songs I already had in mind, she went on to approve and delete. The last was her suggestion.”

“Your sister?”

He turned to me, our eyes meeting. “Yes.”

My stomach made a little spin, and that pile of hot bricks on my chest felt heavier. And hotter.

“Does she, um…does she live…” I stopped short, realizing that I had no idea where Henry came from. His family had homes all over the world, but other than Elliott Academy in LA, Washington, Duke, and Stanford, I didn’t have a clue about his past life.

“Cami lives in Zurich right now,” he said, answering my unfinished question.

I nodded.

“I’m sure you find the idea of attending a private, all-girls boarding school in Switzerland passe, if not offensive, but with my parents away from home so much…” He trailed off, pressing his lips together. “It’s an exceptional school. She’ll go Ivy League if she chooses.”

I thought of Henry calling his sister in the middle of the night to discuss music. If it had been one a.m. in California, what time was it in western Europe? My attention was pulled by Henry tapping his knuckle on his side window. “I wish it were warmer,” he mused, changing the subject. “I know a great spot by the river. Are you still cold?”

I nodded mechanically, although I wasn’t cold. Quite the opposite.

He cranked the heater. “Would you like to wear this?” he asked, unzipping his leather jacket. I politely declined but was stirred by the chivalrous act. Then I remembered I was supposed to be a self-sufficient woman, an independent feminist. I dug my middle knuckle into my temple, massaging a tiny circle. Nothing in my brain was working correctly tonight.

“I read a case once about a man who killed his wife because she always kept their house set at eighty-five degrees.” Henry turned the car onto what looked like nothing more than a dirt road. “One day he snapped; shot her in the heart.” He turned to me, grinning. “His attorney got him off. Justifiable homicide.”

“Is that the kind of law you want to practice?”

He crinkled his nose with an air of repugnance. “The case was required reading. I enjoy studying about trial lawyers, but I lack the particular…subtleties.”

There was a time when I thought Henry would have fit the role of sleazy ambulance chaser perfectly. I didn’t know what I thought now.

“Once upon a time, I planned on working for the D. A.,” he continued. “But that won’t work, either.”

“Why not?”

“From what I know about myself and the kind of life I want to live, I’m better suited for private practice.”

“More money in that?” I zinged without thinking.

Henry glanced at me, not bothering to hide his frown. He actually looked hurt. “The money will be sufficient,” he replied coolly, setting his gaze back on the road, “but if I work for the D. A., I can’t do pro bono as much as I’d like. That’s why I want my own practice.”

“Pro bono?” My feet slipped off the dashboard, jerking my body forward, straight toward the windshield.

He swore in alarm as his right arm jetted straight out to his side, catching me across the chest. Driving one handed, he swerved back and forth across the center line.

“Pro bono?” I repeated after he’d pulled his arm back.

“What’s the matter with you?” He stared at me, his eyes blazing with shock.

“Doesn’t that mean for free?”

He exhaled gruffly and ran a hand through his hair. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“I just never thought that you…someone like you—”

“Not all lawyers are sharks, Spring,” he cut in. “And not all of them are out to kill trees and pollute the water. I plan on doing a lot of good.”

“No, I…yeah.” I swallowed. “I’m sure you do.” I turned to face him full on, trying to make my face convey what I was feeling, to let him know he’d won this battle. “I’m sorry, Henry. I didn’t know.”

“That’s the trouble with you,” he muttered, tight-lipped. “You thought you had me pegged from the beginning. That first night. Didn’t you?”

I felt my eyes going wide, trying to display my innocence. But he was right. People seldom surprised me, and Henry had managed to do just that. Time after time. Just admitting that to myself made me feel miserable. The pile of bricks on my chest was replaced by a lump in my throat.

His next movement startled me when he reached forward, jerking his cell free from the jack. My music abruptly stopped. Only the sound of tires on the road.

“There’s a store coming up,” he said. “I’m stopping for a drink. Would you like something?”

“J’ai tres soif,” I mumbled. “I mean, I’m thirsty, too.”

He laughed softly, sounding more like himself again. “I understood you the first time.”

I echoed his laugh, only mine sounded nervous.

Henry pulled the car to a stop, keeping the heater on. “Diet Coke?” he asked as he opened his door.

“I probably shouldn’t if I plan on getting any kind of sleep tonight. But…”

“I’ll be right back,” he said, zipping up his jacket then raking his fingers though his hair.

I watched as he entered the store, surveyed the fountain drinks and chatted with the clerk, finally placing two bottles of water on the counter and one sixty-ounce Diet Coke.

Chapter 23

Our return drive to Beacon Rock was a quiet one. The glowing green numbers on the dashboard read one o’clock. When we arrived at our spot, Tyler was off somewhere brushing his teeth and Mel was heading into the tent.

“I’m crashing,” she said after a big yawn. “You guys coming in?” She shivered and wrapped a blanket around her body.

I wandered to the fire, staring into its dying orange flames. “I’m still wound up. I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.” I scowled at the tent behind Mel like it was an awaiting prison, then slumped onto one of the stumps in front of the fire, plunging my hands in my pockets.

Mel looked at Henry. “What about you?” He shook his head. She yawned again and waved us good night, disappearing behind the tent flap.

Henry poked at the fire with a long stick then threw a log on top. Red sparks shot out and swirled into the black sky.

“I’m fine out here alone,” I said.

He lifted his chin. Yellow and orange reflected off the corners of his glasses.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to.” He dusted off his hands on his jeans and lowered himself to the ground across the fire from me.

Tyler showed up a few minutes later. He wore a bright yellow sweatshirt with the hood up, and a hand