Things between them. She didn’t say the words, but he sensed them hovering in the air between them. And his pulse picked up speed, igniting a flutter—that hope—in his belly he’d felt when he’d held her in the safe room.
She laid her head back against his chest, and her fingers gently brushed his shirt. Tingles flared all over his skin again, and he worked like hell to keep his pulse from racing. She was sharing secrets—things most couples talked about way earlier in their relationship. And though he couldn’t tell her his biggest secret—at least not yet—he knew he could give her something.
“I almost got married once.”
Her hand stopped moving against his shirt. “You did?”
He hadn’t told anyone this—not even Ryan—and though he’d never planned to air his vulnerability, part of him figured maybe it was time. Maybe if she understood what he’d been through, she could understand why he’d reacted so badly when she’d lied to him. “It was about two years after we lost my sister. Ryan was just starting to come out of his fog. I’d been putting off working in the field because of him and Julia, but I was antsy to get out of the Bay Area. So when a site was identified in South America, I jumped on the chance to be the first geologist to start taking samples.”
He hadn’t really been in the market for a relationship, but looking back on it, losing his sister had definitely made him rethink what was important in life. “She was part of the team sent to Ecuador to evaluate the site. We met a few days after I got there, hit it off. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were a couple.”
More than a couple. They’d spent every waking moment together. Rachel had been everything he thought he’d been looking for in a woman. Outdoorsy, able to hold her own with the other guys on site, and totally hot. The first time he’d seen those long, shapely legs of hers in cargo shorts and dusty hiking boots, he thought he’d found nirvana. He’d never been so completely wrong in his life.
He cleared his throat and shifted his back against the wall where he was leaning. “A few months went by, and things were great. Neither of us wanted to leave, but when our analysis of the site was finished, we didn’t have much choice. I came home, and she went back to Dallas. We made plans for her to come to San Francisco to visit, but a week went by, and I didn’t hear from her. I tried to call her, but it kept going to voice mail. So after a few days, I got worried and flew out to Dallas to see her.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head, feeling like a complete idiot all over again. “Turns out the joke was on me. Her husband answered the door.”
“Oh boy.”
“Yeah, there was one of those. Seven-year-old. And a girl who looked to be about five. Rachel was out shopping when I got there. Her husband looked as shell-shocked as I felt.”
He could feel Simone cringe against his chest. “What did you do?”
“Said I was from the office and pretended to be dropping off some files for her. Then I got the hell out of there. But I think he knew what was going on.”
“That’s awful. Did you ever hear from her?”
“A day later. She called after I was back in San Francisco.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much. There wasn’t much she could say. Just that she didn’t know how to tell me the truth and that she never wanted me to get hurt.”
Simone didn’t answer, and in the silence, Mitch realized those were the same things Simone had told him the night she’d come to his house and those thugs had shot up his property.
Except…in Simone’s case, at least she’d been sorry. Rachel had only been sorry she’d been caught.
A shiver racked Simone’s body, and, reflexively, Mitch pulled her in closer. “Are you cold? We can flip the heater on for a bit to take the chill off.”
“No, I’m fine.” She huddled close, so the length of her thigh was against his, heat seeping from her into him, sending tingles of awareness all across his flesh. “I’m sorry she did that to you. That…wasn’t right.”
Mitch stared off into the darkness, remembering how upset he’d been. Ironically, the pain of that humiliation didn’t even compare to how he’d felt when Simone had left him. “I wasn’t really in love with her. I think I wanted to be. After we lost my sister, I realized that family is the only thing that really matters. I think more than anything I just wanted to know what it was like to have a family of my own. She was the wrong one to want that with, though.”
And Simone was the right one. He just wasn’t sure how to convince her of that fact.
“You’re a good man, Mitch Mathews.”
He huffed, because he didn’t feel particularly good. He felt stupid in a lot of ways. And helpless. But he was willing to put himself out on a limb for a chance to make things right with the woman in his arms. “I’m no angel, sweetheart. I’ve done plenty of dumb shit in my life.”
“I’m sure you have, but you’ve got a good heart. That doesn’t change. You’re going to make a great husband and father someday.”
It just won’t be today. Or with me.
He heard the unspoken words as loud as if she’d screamed them. And inside, everything he’d been holding back, all his plans to keep things light between them, whooshed right out of his head. Along with what was left of his common sense.
“You’re damn right I am.” He gripped her by the jaw and turned her face up to his. Surprised dark eyes met his. Eyes that had captivated him from the first. “But not someday.”
Then he lowered his mouth to hers.
Simone sucked in a breath and froze.
Mitch’s lips pressed against hers, soft, firm, cool like the air in the small lookout, but warming from a heat that was flaring to life between them. Like a fire sparking against black embers and slowly turning to a full-blown blaze.
He groaned, the sound echoing through his chest and into hers, sending fingers of awareness tingling through her core. He eased the pressure on her mouth, tilted his head, and kissed her again. Her pulse sped up. Electricity raced all along her skin. Panic—or maybe it was excitement, she couldn’t tell which—clouded her mind, making it hard to think, to act, to know what to do.
The hand at her jaw slid up into her hair, and his fingers spread, cupping the back of her head, tugging her even closer. She grabbed a fistful of his flannel shirt—to push him away or pull him closer, she wasn’t sure which—but right now she was glad he’d taken off that heavy coat, that she didn’t have to fumble with layers of fabric, that he wasn’t giving her time to think.
“Give in to me, Simone,” he mumbled against her lips. “You know you want to.”
Oh, but she did. It was why she’d gone to see him that night at his house. Why she’d come all the way to Tahoe with him. Why she’d agreed to this silly hike that now didn’t seem so foolish anymore. But nothing had changed. If anything, his life was in more danger because of her, and if she gave in, if she took everything he was offering without thinking of the consequences and something bad happened to him, she’d never be able to forgive herself.
She let go of his shirt and pressed her palm against his chest. This time to push him away. Definitely to push him away. She eased back enough to suck in air. “Mitch. This isn’t a good idea.”
“Your good ideas haven’t exactly panned out, sweetheart. Time to try someone else’s.”
He lowered his head once more, and panic snaked in. A panic that told her if he kissed her again, she might not have the strength to stop him. “Mitch—”
His mouth closed over hers before she could get the rest of the words out. And then his heat was there, sliding across her lips, dipping inside to tangle with her tongue, filling her senses with every inch of him.
She groaned, and her fingers curled in his shirt once more, this time to pull him closer. It was stupid. It was reckless. It was everything she shouldn’t do. But she wanted. Hadn’t stopped wanting. And had no more resistance left to fight him.
“Mitch…”
&nb
sp; Her tongue brushed his, slowly at first, then with more insistence. She let go of his shirt, slid her hand up his neck and around the back of his head, her fingers combing through his soft hair, pulling his mouth more firmly down to hers. He answered with another groan, and the arm around her shoulder slinked lower, down her back, pushing her up. Then he was lifting her, tugging her, shifting her body so she was straddling his hips, then sinking down onto his lap and the glorious bulge in his jeans that told her exactly how much he wanted her.
They didn’t need the heater now. She doubted they even needed the thin Mylar blanket. Sweat slicked her skin as she trailed her other hand up his chest and into his hair. As she kissed him deeper, again and again. As she felt his hands streaking down her back to guide her up and down as he rocked his hips against her most sensitive spot.
She was breathless. Panting. Couldn’t think. Could only feel. Her hands gripped both sides of his face. She pulled away just enough to breathe but didn’t let go. His lips pressed against the corner of her mouth, her jaw, trailed a line of hot, wet kisses all the way to her ear. She trembled as he blew against her neck. Desire and a need to feel him everywhere, curled tight, wicked fingers all through her belly, shooting electrical charges straight to her breasts and down into her sex.
“Ah God, Simone.” He pushed away from the wall and sat up. One hand slinked up her back and into her hair. The movement forced her hips into closer contact with his, and the hard length of his erection rubbed against her mound, making her see stars. “I’ve been going mad without you.”
He dragged her mouth back to his and kissed her deeply, his lips on fire, his tongue hot and wet and sinful. Everything she remembered it to be.
She was going mad too. Was absolutely wild right now from the taste of him.
She kissed him again and again. His mouth turned greedy, wanton against hers. She moaned against his lips, wanting so much more. The hand in her hair slid down her neck, across her collarbone, and brushed her breast. Electrical charges shot all through her body. She groaned against him. Kissed him deeper. His fingers found the tip of her breast and pinched her nipple through her shirt, a mixture of pleasure and pain she felt everywhere.
“Mitch…”
“I’m right here, baby.” His other hand found the snap on her jeans and flicked it free. “Give in to me, sweetheart. I need you.”
She needed him too. He had no idea how much. But when his fingers grazed the soft flesh of her lower belly, a little of the sex fuzz filling her mind cleared. Just a tad. Just enough so she became cognizant of what they were doing. Of what doing this with him would mean. Of what kind of danger that would put him in down the line.
Her hands landed against his shoulders, and she pulled her mouth from his, gasping for air, grappling for some kind of control. “Mitch, wait.”
“No waiting. I’m done waiting. You want me. I can feel it.”
His lips pressed against her neck. His hand slinked lower. He rocked his hips until pleasure ripped through her pelvis, and she knew if he did that again she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. But she needed to put a stop to this. Not for herself, but for him.
“Mitch…no.”
“Yes.”
He held her tight, but she put all her strength in her arms, pushed away from him, and stumbled to find her footing. Her boot slipped, and she nearly fell into him, but caught herself at the last second and broke free. Breathing heavily, she held out her hand and moved back a step, unable to see anything in the pitch-dark room, even her own fingers. “I said stop.”
She could feel his stare piercing her flesh even if she couldn’t see him. No sound echoed in the room, nothing but the howling of the wind and storm outside, but with every passing second, she could feel the anger growing inside him, rolling off him in hot waves that drifted across the cool room, centered directly on her.
Long seconds passed, then finally, a low chuckle rumbled from across the room. “You really are the queen of mixed messages, you know that?”
Here it came. And boy, did she deserve it. “Mitch—”
“No, you know what? I get it.” Shuffling echoed. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but seconds later, the LED lantern flicked on, blinding her with the flash of light. She covered her eyes and looked away. A click echoed, and then the hum of the small heater filled the room, but it didn’t ease the chill sliding down Simone’s spine. “I always prided myself on being a pretty smart guy, but with you? Not so much. No more, though. I finally get what you’ve been trying to tell me the past six months.”
She hated that she was hurting him—again. Hated that she was in this position in the first place. Hated even more that her heart felt like it was breaking all over.
She never should have let Ryan and Kate convince her to come to Tahoe with him. Never should have thought they could just be friends. They’d never been just friends. They’d always been more. And she still wanted to be more, even knowing it could never happen. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“No, you didn’t.” He tugged off the blanket and tossed it across the floor toward her. “It was all me. I’m the one who talked you into going out with me. I’m the one who pushed the relationship. I’m the one who dragged you all the way up this stupid mountain. You’re the one with the psycho past, but yeah… I take full responsibility.” He tugged his coat back on and zipped it up to his chin, then settled back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “I give up.”
Panic filled her chest and threatened to steal her breath. The same panic she’d felt the night she’d come back from the east coast and broken things off with him. Words hovered on her lips—apologies, excuses, the truth—but she couldn’t voice them. In the end, what difference would they make? They’d still be in the same place—his life in danger and her being the cause—and that wouldn’t change until she got out of his life for good.
She reached for the Mylar blanket at her feet, rubbing it between her fingers. Minutes ago, it had been warm and cozy. Not it just felt cold and alone. Like her.
“You’ll freeze to death,” she managed. “We still need to share the blanket.”
“I’ll survive.”
He’d pulled his hood up, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the wall, effectively dismissing her. And as his jaw flexed beneath the sexy stubble on his cheek, tears filled her eyes, making her feel like an even bigger louse. “Mitch—”
“It’ll be light in a couple of hours. After we get out of here, I’ll call Ryan and find out what his guy’s discovered. Either way, you don’t have to worry. You can stay at Kendrick’s. I’ll find somewhere else to go.”
That wasn’t what she wanted at all. The panic multiplied, sending a fierce shooting pain all through her chest. “You don’t have to leave.”
He laughed again, but the sound held zero humor. “I don’t particularly want to stay anymore. You win, Simone. I’m done.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
All Mitch wanted to do was get the hell off this mountain.
He packed up his gear in silence while Simone sat on the far side of the lookout, her knees pulled up to her chest, her knit hat tugged down low over her head. She hadn’t spoken much to him since it had grown light, and he hadn’t offered up any conversation either. Was he being an ass? Probably. Did he care? Not a bit. Last night was just one giant reminder that things between them were dead and buried, and the sooner he accepted that fact, the better off he’d be.
Latching his pack, he reached for her snowshoe—the one that had busted yesterday—and fixed the strap as best he could. He handed it to her. “Try to stay out of the powder with this one. Step where I step, and you should be fine.”
She accepted the snowshoe, her fingertips grazing his in the process, cold, hesitant, not a bit like the greedy hands that had fisted in his hair last night as she’d kissed him crazy. “Thanks.”
Not for kissing her. Not for making her feel anything.
He was starting to wonder if the woman even had a heart.
Which was stupid because… He needed to stop thinking about her and pull his head out of his ass.
He pushed to his feet and slung his pack over his back. “Let’s go.”
The air was crisp when they stepped outside, chilling Mitch’s cheeks and causing ice crystals to catch in the scruff on his jaw. Three inches of new snow covered the ground, and he was thankful it wasn’t more. After latching on his snowshoes, he led the way down the hillside toward the car they’d parked at the gate. The two-mile trek was slow moving, and neither of them spoke, but it wasn’t nearly as much work—or as fun—as coming up. The only plus was that the lower they dropped in elevation, the easier it got thanks to the protection the trees provided from the stinging wind.
Simone didn’t speak, and once or twice he looked back to see she was doing exactly what he’d said—picking her way down the hill, stepping where he stepped, being careful she didn’t dislodge her snowshoe anymore. Occasionally she’d glance around, looking for that bear, he knew, but it didn’t amuse him like it had on the hike up. Instead, it pissed him off even more. He was done being such a pathetic schmuck. So he’d misread her in that safe room. There were worse things in life than being rejected.
He turned the corner and caught sight of the gate. It was closed, just as it had been before, but new snow littered the ground, covering everything in a fresh layer of white. Everything but their car.
Fuck. There were worse things than rejection.
Simone’s coat rustled next to him, followed by her heavy breathing. She drew to a stop at his side and fell silent.
“Um…” Her voice floated on the cool air. “Where’s the car?”
Frustration growing, Mitch moved around the Forest Service gate, rested his hands on his hips, and stared down at the fine powder. Tire tracks in the snow meant whoever had taken it had done it after the snow hit. Likely only hours ago.