Just In Time: An Alaskan Nights Novel (14 page)

“I’m fine.”

He bent his head and pressed his lips against her cheek. “Maybe you need a few kisses to make it all better.”

“Roman.”

He heard his name come out on a sigh and it only encouraged him to maintain his strategic assault. With exquisite gentleness so as not to press too hard against the bruise, he ran his lips across the remaining expanse of her cheek, then added suction as he moved to her earlobe. Pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear, he whispered back.

“Such beautiful skin. It’s a terrible thing to mar it.”

He placed one hand at the base of her neck, gratified when he felt the tension in her body loosen as her head fell back. He continued to tease her ear with his lips and she tilted to give him better access when he moved down to the graceful arch of her neck.

“Roman.” When he only continued pressing kisses to her neck, she raised her voice in a heartier whisper.
“Roman
.
”

“Mmmm?”

“One of the boys might come back.”

“So that’s the only reason you won’t kiss me back?”

“No.”

He lifted his head and placed his hands on either side of her neck. “Yes.”

Without giving her time to come up with any additional excuses, he pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue through the seam.

A delicious familiarity gripped him as the taste that was uniquely Avery met his taste buds—a mixture of the sweet flavor of her sports drink and something darker and more intense, like the fine wines she loved. Whatever hesitation she might have had wasn’t in evidence as she kissed him back. Her arms wrapped around his waist and he felt the light tease of her fingers where she ran them along the base of his spine.

The thought vaguely crossed his mind that the woman in his arms was the same as he remembered, yet distinctly different somehow.

Where their time together as teenagers had been a mixture of tentative exploration and an innocent give-and-take, the woman in his arms had the cultured notes of experience and self-confidence in the artful way she kissed him back.

It was heady and Roman found himself pulled by the undertow as the fever to brand her with his body increasingly took over all rational thought.

“Roman. We can’t do this.”

“Actually, we can.”

The clear notes of regret stamped themselves in her dark eyes, their pupils blown wide with need as she stepped back. “No, we can’t.”

“Why are you pulling away?”

“Because I can’t think when you’re close to me like this.”

“Thinking is overrated.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not interested in making a mistake I can’t undo.”

Her words hit him with the force of an arrow. “I wasn’t aware we were a mistake.”

“We will be if we rush into things.” She took another few steps away. “I care about you. I always have. And I’m not going to make a decision with my hormones.”

“So you are willing to consider there’s something there?”

“Oh, Roman.” She shook her head, a gentle smile hovering at her lips. “There’s always been something there. For God’s sake, I used to give you my cookies at lunch when we were six.”

“You told me you didn’t like them.”

“I was subjugating my desires for a man, even then.”

A heavy bark of laughter welled up in his chest. “You were what?”

“I used to have my mom pack extras every day. And I was adamant that I had to have Oreos.”

“So you could give them to me.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t believe it.”

She shrugged. “They made you happy. So they made me happy.”

The quietly spoken words had the same effect as the last arrow to the chest, only this one spread a funny sort of warmth through his limbs upon impact.

“So when I tell you I don’t want to make a decision with my hormones, understand that’s not meant to be an insult. You mean more than a roll around the gym.”

“I was expecting we could use a bed.”

“It’s not the right time.” She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But you’re lovely for asking.”

He felt the soft press of her lips and knew there was a thread of truth in her words, especially if he put the raging needs of his body aside for the briefest of moments to listen to his brain.

Those long, coltish legs carried her to the door of the gym and he watched her take every step, imagining the feel of them wrapped around his waist. Maybe it was the vision or the subtle calm of her voice when she turned back to look at him.

“You coming?”

“Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d fix myself a post-workout treat of milk and Oreos. You’re welcome to join me.”

Roman didn’t wait to be asked twice.

•   •   •

Julia took a seat on the hard marble bench in front of what the town fondly referred to as the Love Monument.

She simply thought of it as her refuge.

The monument had been her gift to her late husband’s memory. She still remembered the day she lost him in vivid detail, the harsh shock of being a widow in her midthirties something she’d feared she would never recover from.

Her friends had seen her through, along with the son and daughter she adored, and slowly the joys of life had come back to her. And it had been Mary, in a late-night sob session a year after Andrew had passed, who had come up with the idea of a monument.

Something solid and lasting, she had said.

Mary had remembered a sculptor from Juneau that she and Charlie had seen on a vacation the previous year and gave Julia his name. With very little input, the man had managed to capture the exact essence of what she was looking for.

Heavy, curving lines that gave the impression of a man and a woman, folded in an embrace.

It was the lettering at the base, however, that had been all hers.

For those we aren’t allowed to keep.

How true those words had been, especially when she lost her own son a little more than two decades later.

Once again, her girlfriends had been there, standing solidly beside her as she dealt with a grief that penetrated every single cell of her body with the most unbearable pain imaginable.

Mary and Sophie had been through everything with her. The most important moments of her life had been shared, dissected, remembered and treasured with the two best friends a woman could have.

So why couldn’t she talk to them about Roman?

The thought nagged at her, and despite the slight feelings of guilt and the bigger puzzlement as to why she remained silent, she knew she couldn’t share her concerns.

“Care for some company?”

Julia looked up to see Ken standing next to her, a hand lifted to shade his eyes from the afternoon sun.

“Of course.” A light hitch caught her breath and she swallowed hard before adding, “Please. Join me.”

His smile was warm as he settled himself next to her. “It’s a beautiful day. You visiting with Andy?”

“I was thinking, more than anything.” She hesitated for only a moment as his words registered. “And how do you know I visit with Andy when I come here?”

“It’s too beautiful a spot not to.”

“There’s an odd simplicity in that.”

He shrugged. “I’m a simple man.”

“No, I don’t think that’s true. You only look simple and easygoing on the surface, but I think those still waters run very deep.”

A distinct twinkle lit his gentle brown eyes. “I think that was a compliment.”

“I certainly meant it as such.”

“So if you’re not really talking to Andy, and please tell him hi for me when you do talk next, what were you thinking about on this lovely afternoon?”

“My grandson.”

“Ahhh.” Ken shifted and settled his elbow on the back of the bench. “What has you worried?”

“He’s hiding something.”

“It’s certainly not how he feels about Avery.”

“No, not that.”

Julia’s gaze caught on the small bed of flowers that surrounded the base of the monument. The bright, pretty blooms winked gently in the breeze, their pinks and purples a jaunty wave to summer. “But I think something’s wrong.”

His years of practicing medicine kicked in and his face grew serious. “You think he’s hurt?”

“I’m not sure.”

With the ready admission that she felt silly even bringing it up, she recounted the broken glasses from the evening before. “And I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s off, Ken. I know it was only a few glasses. Anyone can make that mistake. But it was like he didn’t even see them.”

“Have you discussed it with Susan? Asked if she’s noticed anything?”

A spurt of annoyance filled her chest. “All she sees is hearts, fireworks and grandbabies where Roman is concerned. And when Avery’s in the mix, it’s worse.”

“She’s not the only one.”

“No. No, she’s not.” Julia played with the fringe on the light sweater she wore. “I think that’s why I haven’t been able to talk about this with Mary and Sophie. They’re so focused on weddings and happy-ever-afters that they’ve stopped realizing not everyone gets one.”

Her gaze drifted to the monument without any conscious effort. Before she could think on it, a light breeze whipped up and blew at her hair. She turned to look at Ken in an effort to blow back the strands waving around her face.

And caught sight of such a deep longing in his eyes she lost her breath.

The moment stretched out and she wondered at the light whisper of thought streaming through her mind.

She’d been alone for so long, she hadn’t ever really expected she’d find anything with another man after losing Andrew. But as she stared into Ken Cloud’s eyes, the strangest feeling—a subtle longing, really—urged her to consider not being quite so hasty.

And then the moment broke as he finally spoke, his tone solemn. “No, not everyone gets one.”

That light breeze whispered around her shoulders once more and as it swirled, a funny impulse seized her. “I haven’t taken my walk yet today. Would you care to join me?”

The empty look in his gaze vanished, replaced with something as bright as a beautiful summer day. “Yes.”

He stood, his regal carriage gentlemanly as he extended a hand to help her up. “Where should we go?”

“There’s a path along the river I enjoy.”

“Sounds lovely.”

The wind whispered over her shoulders once more as she and Ken walked away from the monument, and Julia couldn’t shake the thought that Andrew approved.

Most heartily.

“Y
ou look like a woman contemplating sex.”

Avery eyed Grier over the rim of her oversized java mug, the surrounding buzz at the Jitters thankfully loud enough to cover Grier’s bold pronouncement. “How do you know that?”

“Three reasons.”

With a come-here hand wave, Avery sat back, ready to take it all in. “Bring them on.”

“Exhibit one. You have an irritable glow.”

“How is a glow irritable?”

“You’re glowing ’cuz you’re anticipating sex, but you’re pissed about it. I’ve been there, girlfriend.”

Avery decided to keep her thoughts to herself on point number one because the description was shockingly close to the truth. “Okay. What are your other reasons?”

“You’re replacing the need for sex with chocolate.”

“I am not.”

“That mocha has about a billion calories in it and you usually just drink yours plain with skim milk.”

Avery swirled the Twix stir-stick in the froth. “Chooch got me hooked on it. It’s her Special.”

“It hurts my teeth to look at it and you know that’s saying a lot.”

“I ran four miles with fourteen teenage boys. I earned it.”

Grier tapped her forehead. “And you landed yourself a rather colorful shiner as well, so you can add medicinal to its properties.”

“I like the way you think. And the shiner was an accident.”

“Roman’s still pissed about it. He was telling Mick about it earlier when he brought the truck back.”

“There’s nothing for him to be angry about. It was just boys being boys.”

One lone eyebrow rose up over Grier’s cool gray eyes. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response, especially since I heard it was the team’s two little shits who instigated it.”

“Will and Zach had their bully flags flying today.”

“Assholes. I did Zach’s parents’ returns this past tax season and the kid stomped around the house like he was the damn prince of the castle.”

“Neither Will nor Zach are very good and it pisses them off. I could have seen past it but when they started picking on Stink they went from annoying to something else.”

“Stink. The one who—” Grier wrinkled her nose.

“Hockey funk.”

“Yeah. That.”

“Well, he’s clean most of the time when he’s not playing, I mean. The problem is his equipment’s old and hockey players have freshness challenges on the best of days.” Avery took a sip of her coffee as a sweet memory swamped her.

Roman used to race home after practice to clean up before they had a date. He’d scrub his skin bright pink, then go out in the cold. She could still remember the night he actually had ice in his hair because he’d gone out with it still wet.

“The equipment’s expensive, too, isn’t it?”

Grier’s question pulled her from the image of Roman with crunchy hair, and Avery refocused on Stink. “He’s a sweet kid and he loves hockey like it’s his religion. He’s always taken the ribbing pretty good-naturedly, but I think it’s starting to get old.”

“Having a cool nickname that shows you’re a team sport is one thing. When the underlying reason’s used to embarrass you, not so much.”

“You haven’t told me number three.”

“Oh. That’s easy.” Grier reached for her own drink on a laugh. “You want to.”

“Did you just chortle merrily before taking that sip?”

“I most certainly did not.”

“You did.”

“You’re evading.”

“I am.”

“Because I’m right.”

“Damn it.”

Avery sighed, memories of the heated kisses in the gym earlier that day filling her mind’s eye. They hadn’t been far from her thoughts all afternoon and she’d barely gotten her inventory done on time to get the order out to Jack.

“Why are you right?”

“Um, because the man is crazy about you. Add on he’s one of the most physically perfect specimens of manhood on the planet. Oh. And did I mention he’s crazy about you?”

“It can’t be anything, Grier.”

“You know, someone gave me a hard time when I tried using that excuse a few months ago.” Grier leaned forward and linked their hands. “It was the best piece of advice I’ve ever received.”

“I can’t go through it again, Grier. What if I give myself the permission to go back and he leaves again? He’s not staying.”

“No, he’s not.”

“I can’t live through it again. Once was enough.”

“You don’t think you’re different now?”

“I don’t think he and I together are different. That’s the problem.”

“But you’re older. Wiser.”

“I don’t know how to explain this in a way that makes even the slightest bit of sense.” Avery took a fortifying sip of the lush, rich chocolate and allowed the sweetness a moment on her tongue before she started in.

“That’s okay. I’ll believe you, whatever you tell me.”

Avery took one more sip for good measure, then began. “People talk about puppy love and first loves and teenage crushes. But what Roman and I had—have—has always been different. Always.”

“Describe it to me.”

“He’s just always been there. A part of me. And the time between us is special, somehow. I’m not big on the term
soul mate
because I think it diminishes the other relationships in our lives that matter, but he and I have that. Even when we were very small.”

A distant memory whirled through her mind and she thought about it for a moment, allowing it to solidify.

“Once . . . I couldn’t have been more than about eight. He was nine, and Mick and Walker ten. We were playing out around town the day after a snowstorm. It was after school let out and you know what it’s like around here. Everyone’s casual and easygoing and a bunch of kids running around the town square is just more of the perfect, Norman Rockwell thing we channel here sometimes.”

“It’s lovely. And homey.”

“That, too.”

It was funny, Avery thought, how a memory she hadn’t had in well over a decade could come back so strong.

And so very vivid.

“So we were running around and carrying on and just having a great time and I started to run out toward Main Street. And without any warning, a car driving slowly down the street hit a patch and went sliding. The driver couldn’t get control and all I could see was his face and I was literally frozen in place, the car bearing down on me.”

“And Roman pulled you back?”

“Roman started running toward me before the car even lost control.”

Avery saw the story register in Grier’s gaze—saw her brow furrow as she tried to take it in.

“I asked him about it later. He walked me to my house, which he always did after we were done playing. I was still sort of freaked out by the whole thing and he was extra quiet. And I asked him how he knew the car was going to lose control.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he knew something was wrong. He was nine, Grier. How does a kid know something like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s always been that way between us. We’ve just always been together. So in tune with each other.”

“Then there’s even more reason for you to act on these feelings. Not only do you have a connection emotionally, but you have a physical connection, too, and that’s not to be undervalued.”

A hard sob welled up in her throat, the hurt so immediate—so unexpected—she dragged a hand to her mouth to hold it in.

“Oh, Avery, I’m sorry. I’m sorry to keep pushing.”

Avery shook her head. “No, don’t you see, that’s it? He was never just my boyfriend. He matters to me in the same way I need air to breathe. And he went away. I didn’t simply lose my boyfriend. I lost my best friend when he left. And he was gone.”

“Oh.”

“That’s what no one understands. They think how cute we are and how great it is that he’s back and maybe he’s finished sowing wild oats. But it’s never been about that. The pain has never been about that.” She hiccupped. “Or not entirely.”

“You lost half of yourself.”

“Which is why I can’t go through it again.”

•   •   •

Avery flipped through the latest
In Style
and abstractedly wondered what she’d look like with Charlize Theron’s hair. The magazine was a mindless distraction from the day, and as she turned past Charlize and on to Reese Witherspoon, she let her mind wander back to the conversation she’d had with Grier at the Jitters.

After she got over the emotional hurdle of churning up all of her history with Roman, she realized it had actually felt rather therapeutic to get it out.

And God bless Grier, she was a good listener. She had also been through something similar enough to offer understanding and compassion without trying to add on a load of advice that wasn’t helpful or wanted.

Of course, all the friendship or understanding couldn’t change one major, glaring fact.

She
did
want to have sex with Roman.

There was little use in denying it to herself. The need for him vibrated under her skin like a hard, heavy drumbeat that wouldn’t be silenced.

She was sick of fighting the attraction, but she was even sicker of the endless tension that had plagued their interactions with each other since the time he left Indigo.

The real question, to her mind, was, was she brave enough to go there again? And if they
did
go there, would he check out again when he inevitably went home?

The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts and she grabbed it, surprised when the caller asked specifically for her.

“Avery. This is Walt Singer.” The man rattled off an impressive list of credentials along with his role in heading up one of the lead travel industry associations. “I’m incredibly sorry for the lateness of my call, but I’m in a terrible bind and your name just came to my attention. I figured it was early enough there I might catch you.”

Intrigued, Avery reached for the computer and opened up a search box so she could look him up as he spoke. “Please. Go on.”

“I’m running the travel conference that starts Monday in Anchorage and I’ve lost one of my speakers to a bad case of the flu. I understand you recently took part in an exchange program.”

“I did.”

“You’d be perfect. We’re talking about ways to invigorate your career, how to create environments for employees that keep them motivated and happy, and how those things can build your business. Your experience would be perfect for the panel.”

“I need to check with my boss.”

“Let me get your e-mail information and I’ll follow up with all the details. Your conference fee will be paid for if you’d like to stay for the duration, but if you could only do a day trip, that’d be fine as well.”

Avery did a quick calculation as to who might be able to fill in for her. “I’m very interested, let me just do some checking in the morning and I’ll get back to you.”

“Wonderful.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and were about to hang up when a thought hit her. “Walt. How’d you get my name?”

“A few places. You’ve got quite a good reputation in the Alaska hospitality community. But the exchange came to my attention from a Mr. Declan O’Mara. He and I have been working on a website project for the association and he’s the representation from Ireland. He can’t stop singing your praises.”

“Oh, okay. Well. Thanks.”

She hung up, somewhat shocked by the call yet buoyed by it as well. Her speaking skills were decent, and she did love what she did. Walt had also promised to send her the questions in advance, so she could prepare her thoughts.

It would also be great publicity for Indigo and the hotel.

As she went back to her magazine, she flipped back to the page on Charlize and wondered again about the haircut. And maybe the new suit she saw on page 232.

•   •   •

Roman fought the urge to squirm in his chair as his grandmother’s steady gaze lasered in on him with unerring precision. “You’ve been busy since you’ve been back.”

The standing invitation to dinner every time he came home was something he looked forward to, but this evening had the distinct overtones of the Spanish Inquisition instead of a leisurely family dinner.

“I have been. I’m enjoying the chance to coach the kids for a few weeks.”

“And getting that rink fixed up.”

“We start on Saturday.”

“Everyone’s getting excited about it. It’s all anyone can talk about.”

The slight edge of irritation that had ridden him since he first saw the rink resurfaced and he knew Julia Forsyth was the one person he could unload it on.

“Why hasn’t anyone fixed it before now?”

“No one’s cared enough, I suppose.”

“They sure care now.”

“What you do matters to people. They love that you’re from here and that you’ve made something of yourself.”

“I’m a person, Gran. Just a person.”

She winked at him. “Why not leave them to their delusions?”

“Because those delusions ensure they don’t really listen to me.”

“Why do you care if they listen to you?”

He drew up short at that and simply stared at his grandmother, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he sputtered out the first thing that he thought of.

“I’m not a statue on a pedestal. I don’t like the special treatment or the idea that whatever I say is some sort of weird, celebrity gospel.”

“But you’ve chosen not to be a part of the town. What opportunity have they had to know you?”

The words struck him like a swift punch to the jaw and he shook his head to clear the sudden ringing in his ears. While he’d always appreciated the fact that his grandmother didn’t pull any punches, it was a bit of a shock to hear her being so honest.

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“Does it bother you?”

“Look, Gran, enough with the pseudopsychology. My point is valid.”

“So’s mine, Roman.” The cool, even demeanor she’d held all through the dinner flared high with a quick burn of anger. “You don’t live here. And you haven’t lived here for nearly fourteen years. Most of the time, you use wildly expensive gifts to replace your presence here, which, while lovely, only serves to heighten the untouchability everyone feels about you. So maybe you need to start wondering what you’ve done to become a figurehead instead of a member of the Indigo community.”