Double Down (26 page)

Laughing, Cass embraced her friend. “You asked!”

“I did, and I’m happy for you. Honest, Cass.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Have a good night at work.”

“Suurrrre. I’ll get right on that. See ya, hon.” Gilly sauntered out of the coffee shop, her usual hip-swish in place.

Cass watched her go while wearing a stupid grin. Because she was happy for herself too. Forcing her anxieties to a low ebb, she grabbed her purse and portfolio. She had lots of work to do. The sooner she finished up, the sooner she could enjoy the rewards. All of them.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ryan normally assumed predawn phone calls on Saturday mornings were Leah. The ringtone wasn’t his. Instead Cassandra sleepily fumbled across the nightstand.

“H’llo?” she muttered once she’d flipped open the phone.

Even though he was half-asleep, Ryan still caught the slightly frantic tone of voice that came over the line. Impossible to pick out the words. Rolling over put him in full-body contact with Cassandra, just the way he liked it. He curled an arm around her curvy waist and dragged her against his hips, burying his face in her hair.

That dirty-schoolgirl costume was slowly headed toward them.
Slowly
. As if by donkey cart. Ryan had checked the ground tracking number often since she’d forwarded him the email. Stupidly often. Every time, he had the idea that a pop-up window would appear and read,
Chill, dude, it hasn’t moved far in ten minutes.
He couldn’t shake the idea that the outfit was going to be trouble. He wanted to see Cassandra in it too damn bad.

It wasn’t normal.

After a moment of listening, she rubbed a fist over her eyes. “Mom, I was up late last night. I don’t know if I can do it.” She trailed off, obviously listening to whatever her mother said. “I wasn’t scheduled.”

Going back to sleep was a losing battle. Ryan pressed a kiss against the nape of her neck. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

The voice pitched even higher. He could pick out every third word, but not enough to make sense of it.

Cassandra flapped a hand over her shoulder at him. “Yes, that was Ryan. Yes, we’re being safe… No, Mom… Okay, okay. Fine. Yes, I’ll even be there on time.”

Flopping onto her back, she heaved a huge sigh as she snapped her phone shut. “I probably don’t have to tell you who that was.”

“No, not really.” He spread his hand wide over her stomach where her tank top had ridden up. “Do you have to go?”

She scrubbed her eyes again, then pushed to a sitting position. “Yeah. Dad woke up in a lot of pain, and Emily’s morning sickness is kicking up. They need someone to cover the West Rim tour.”

“You’re going?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I finally get a Saturday off from the gallery and let Mom totally guilt trip me into it. I’m going to have to talk to them soon.”

Still lying on his side, Ryan curled a hand over her knee. He wiggled his fingers into the crease, tracing the tender skin. If he gave away what a sick shit he was once the costume arrived, their time together could be ticking down. That thought pinched his stomach into a gnarled wad.

“I could go with you,” he said.

Her smile was definitely worth the offer. Still sleepy at the edges, but bright and shining. She swept sleep-tangled hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Do you want to?”

He shoved off the bed and reached for a pair of shorts. “Why not? I haven’t seen the West Rim yet, so might as well. Plus I’ll still get to spend the day with you.”

From behind, she launched at him. Her arms wrapped around his stomach. She curled her chin over his shoulder to lay a smacking kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best boyfriend ever, baby.”

Yeah, right.

“We’ll see if you still say that after being trapped in a bus with me for hours.”

It proved not nearly so bad as he’d thought. Out on the road, Cassandra popped up and gave chipper, well-rehearsed speeches to zombie-eyed tourists, but in between she was all his. As tour guide, she sat in the front seat—practically on display, which ditched any hope of privacy—but at least it meant extra legroom for him.

The last time he’d spent so many hours in a row on a tour bus, he’d been a senior in high school headed to away games. After an unfortunate incident before he joined the football team, no cheerleaders were allowed. Instead they followed behind in a van. If Cassandra had been a cheerleader, though… Ryan would’ve found a way to sneak her on the bus with him.

God, his imagination was in overdrive, as much as he hated it. She even acted just enough like a cheerleader as she explained peppy details about the Joshua Tree forest or whatever else they passed. She’d strapped her hair up in a high ponytail, and khaki shorts bared most of her sleek legs.

The hours they spent pressed together in the bus seat flew by. Before Ryan knew it, she ushered everyone onto a second bus as she provided options for the next four hours. They all arrived at a tiny welcome center.

Ryan swung his backpack over his shoulder, watching the tourists file into the squat building. Bright sunshine arrowed down at them as he and Cassandra stood in the middle of a dusty parking lot. “What just happened?”

“I’ve handed them off.” She smiled, tugging on the straps of her own pack. “This side of the Canyon’s run by the Hualapai tribe. We basically just get them here. I’ve got to be back here in exactly four hours, but other than that I’m good.”

“Oh really now?”

She nodded. “Yep. Means the tips aren’t as nice, which is probably part of why Mom had such a problem getting someone to fill in.”

This was even better than he’d expected. He’d thought he would need to tag along behind the group and do his damnedest not to spin fantasies about getting lost in the wild with an innocent stranger with reddish-blonde hair.

Now he had her all to himself. The implicit temptation crunched down along his spine. “So what’s the plan, Miss Whitman?”

“I figure we’ve got two options.” She fished a pair of sunglasses out of her backpack and slipped them on. He’d never tell her, but the huge lenses made her look like a starlet shading her eyes from the flash of the paparazzi. “We can either hop a ride with a helicopter pilot I know and hike along the bottom of the Canyon. Or we can stick to the top. I figure either way we’ll hike out for about an hour, then head back. Leave enough time for padding, just in case.”

The sudden authoritative set to her shoulders was a bit of a surprise. He wasn’t sure why since she’d been doing the job for years. Probably because she seemed to dislike it so much. Confidence looked fantastic on her. Always had.

“Let’s stay up top.” He didn’t always do well in aircraft that weren’t under his personal control. His feet would slam and his hands clench as if he actually held the throttle. “Better views that way.”

“Good with me. You can go look out over the canyon if you want. It’s right around there.” She pointed past the visitor center. “I’m just going to check in and call Mom back at the office.”

He did his best not to let the reminder of her mother get to him. So, he’d been doing raunchy things to the woman’s daughter. For weeks. They were grownups. No big deal. Except Betsy and Keith would be disgusted to remember he’d ever been in their house if they knew what he imagined doing to their baby girl on Friday.

Because it wasn’t just a bit of dress up. He wasn’t going to simply ask her to give him a spin as he inspected the costume’s fit. No, he wanted to be the professor. He wanted to punish his naughty student, to bend her to his authority.

Then he’d want to do it all over again.

His guts heaved another lurch as he walked toward the overlook.

Cassandra reappeared about fifteen minutes later, when his toes were practically over the drop. He put his camera away, just as he put away his nerves. She’d always enjoyed when he smiled, but that defense mechanism was getting damn rusty. “I can’t believe there’s no guardrails.”

Her grin, however, was all natural. “Looks great though, right?”

That was for sure. The canyon stretched out at his feet. It wasn’t as deep or sharp as the more-famed South Rim, but it was still impressive.

She joined him with sure steps, as if they couldn’t plummet miles and miles down along sharp rocks. Whether it was her years of familiarity, or her normal zest for life that made her fearless, he didn’t know. He liked it. At the moment, when his doubts were so fierce, he appreciated that at least one of them was in control.

He reached out to curl an arm around her waist. “Standing here feels a little like flying.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” His gaze tracked along the streaks of earthen colors. Browns and reds and tans. The majesty of it. “Being on top of the world. Only thing missing is the speed sucking at your bones, trying to steal your breath.”

“Still want to hike it?”

“Heck, yeah.” He shifted his pack, then took a drag of water off his CamelBak. “You set for hydration?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not my first go at this, Major Haverty.”

“Then lead the way.”

For a full hour, she did. They walked along a well-beaten path until they got to a viewpoint that was unbelievably called Guano Point. That one made Ryan scratch his head. Even if, yeah, guano had once been practically farmed there, why not rename the damn place?

They only stayed long enough to snap a couple pictures before continuing farther on to where the trail narrowed. Cassandra proved to be a great guide. She pointed out historical notes, plant types and even identified a specific type of lizard that skittered across their path.

Ryan loved every minute. Even letting her break trail wasn’t a big deal when he could watch her thighs flash from under the hem of her shorts. With her dark brown T-shirt and lightweight pack, he couldn’t shake the image that she was an official park ranger—who had a thing for getting down with anonymous canyon visitors.

She drew to a halt right as he tried to ignore the possibilities inherent in such a remote location. He darted his gaze out across the canyon.

“Okay, so we’ve been out an hour. We can turn back…” Her voice trailed off.

“I sense an ‘or’ coming.”

“I knew you were a smart boy. There’s a tiny cut through this cliff. If we go down about thirty feet, there’s something I can show you.”

Said the ranger to the poor, innocent tourist from the Midwest.

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck, coming away with a fine layer of sandy grit. Like it wasn’t enough that the costume was, right then, somewhere outside of Indianapolis. There’d be plenty of time to fuck everything up later. Cassandra was in her element. She didn’t deserve his incessant horn-dogging.

“Sure.”

“Great,” she said, grinning. “Come on.”

The path took a fairly gradual slope, but soft shale and crumbling rocks meant that watching their footing became vital. She subtly pointed out where to step. Soon they spit out onto a small landing.

“Holy crap,” he breathed.

The landing, carved out of the cliff, was about five feet by seven—big enough so he could stand there and not feel like one wrong cough would propel him over the edge. The ground fell away sharply beneath it and kept falling. Until the river winding through the bottom was nothing more than a tiny green thread. It was like they were practically floating
in
the giant crevasse.

“I know, right?” She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head. “I do love this place. I just wish I didn’t have to drag a bunch of strangers with me every time.”

He wanted to kiss her. Right then and there. Over the past few days, however, he hadn’t been able to find a way to even touch her without his head filling up. Clouding up. Drunk on Cassandra. Drunk on what he was going to risk. Soon. All the while hoarding every taste and look and sound while he still could.

So he shoved his fists in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “Definitely worth the extra time.”

She smiled. Christ, she looked so relaxed out here. Like she had all her shit together. Unlike certain people. “That’s not all,” she said.

With her hand curled around the inside of his elbow, she tugged him over to the wall. She smelled like sunshine blended with mesquite and creosote, all of it underlaid with her usual freshness and a dash of sunscreen. The brush of her shoulder against his arm sent a low-level shock wave across his skin.

“Look,” she said.

A perfect, classic seashell was pressed into the rock—no, made
of
the rock. A fossil. Proof that where they stood had once been under water. That no matter what happened once the water disappeared, some things were marked deep. Permanent. Inescapable.

He touched the sun-warmed stone a few inches below the fossil. Gritty shale scrubbed against his palm. “Amazing.”

“They’re protected, you know. No one’s allowed to take them or destroy them or anything.” She laid her hand over his, fingers folding side by side. “So no matter where I’ve been, or what I’ve been doing…I can come back here. It’s been the same forever.” With a shrug and a smile, she said, “Some things are just that good.”

He wanted that. More particularly, wanted it with Cassandra. Maybe… There had to be a way to hang on to all this. What was the point of such a perfect moment if he let it get away?

Chapter Thirty

Cass hadn’t enjoyed a trip into the canyon so much in years. Maybe ever. Ryan worked magic on her mood. She loved showing him all the crooks and corners she’d learned across a whole decade. She would never enjoy it as much as the rest of her family, but somehow Ryan salvaged it.

Because she knew this would be her last tour.

Exhaustion pressed on her from all sides. She couldn’t do what she wanted and still satisfy her parents’ expectations. The life she’d started to build, finally, needed all her attention.

She took Ryan’s hand and looked out over the gaping crevasse. He’d been in an odd humor all day. Maybe it was a sign that they were drawing closer, that he didn’t feel the need to plaster on pretend smiles. The pretend ones were more disconcerting than none at all.

“Thank you for this,” he said.