So Now You're Back (23 page)

‘You weren't protecting him, were you? You were protecting yourself.'

The bell on the oven timer chose that precise moment to
ping. He grabbed the mitt and slid the cupcakes out of the oven. But she already had her answer, his rigid expression a dead giveaway.

Trey had no parents and no siblings. He had no family at all by the sounds of it. Was he lonely? Wouldn't it be terribly isolating to work with a family, to become important to them, the way he'd become to Aldo, and not be able to become too invested? Was he scared to get too involved?

‘These smell delicious,' he said as buttery steam filled the kitchen and made her stomach rumble. ‘Thanks for helping out. I owe you one.'

He didn't understand the dynamics of sibling relationships, that much was obvious. But did he even understand the dynamics of a family relationship? How long had his mum been sick before she died? Had he been the one caring for her? Was that why he was so adept at looking after Aldo?

‘I guess we should wait for them to cool down before icing them,' he said, clearly trying to fill the void with inane conversation.

‘I need to go have a shower,' she said, feeling indescribably grimy all of a sudden. Certainly some eyeliner wouldn't go amiss. Especially now she had a plan.

She liked Trey; he was a nice guy. And, for the first time ever, despite his lame taste in polo shirts, ‘nice' didn't feel like a euphemism for ‘boring'. Could this be a sign of her own maturity? Had she finally grown out of wanting to hook up with bad boys who thought they were cool but were really just creepy and sex-obsessed?

Having Trey's warm brown gaze stray involuntarily to her tits had made her feel excited, not dirty, the way Liam had when he'd told her he wanted to come on her boobs.

Trey was hot, and totally cool in his own way. Even if
he didn't know it. But he was also way too reserved and serious.

An intervention was called for. He needed someone to shove him off the sidelines and into the action. And she was the perfect person for that job. She'd spent so much of her life shoving herself into the action.

If that meant passing her flirting proficiency test, so be it.

‘I'll be back in ten, and then we can ice them.'

‘Cool,' he said, deliberately nonchalant. But she was sure she could feel his chocolate gaze warming her arse as she dashed out of the room.

Score one to Lizzie Best's Play Trey Initiative.

‘OK
, folks, you're all set.' Chad, Wilderness Kayaks owner and apparently sole operator, placed the cooler packed with freeze-dried rations, beverages and ‘other essentials' into the hatch in the kayak's bow and sealed it. ‘Step in and I'll give you a boost.'

‘Cheers, mate.' Luke stepped into the fibreglass boat's front cockpit, sat down to extend his legs under the hull and then leaned back to catch the paddle Chad chucked him. All in one fluid movement, with barely a wobble.

The man could have been born in a bloody kayak. Even in the chunky life vest—or personal flotation device, as Chad had called it—Luke looked cool and competent and mouth-wateringly sexy.

Whose stupid idea was that kiss again?

Nine days into their ‘extreme bonding activities' and Halle had come to regret that errant lip lock more and more, the odd hormone bump having morphed into an increasingly severe case of can't-take-my-eyes-off-you syndrome.

Their companionable chat at the waterfall hadn't helped. There was only so much distraction smutty novels, work commitments and scenic walks to the reception to phone
or email her children could provide when she was sharing a cabin with a man she was actually conversing with again.

But much more frustrating was the wealth of stuff that remained unsaid. Stuff she had become increasingly aware Luke was determined would remain unsaid. His lightning-fast reflexes to deflect the conversation elsewhere every time they strayed anywhere near the topic of their past were something to behold.

If she hadn't had complete faith in his journalist abilities, she certainly did now.

Unfortunately, her growing sexual awareness of him was not helping her to handle the gargantuan task of trying to circumvent his avoidance techniques. Which appeared to be even more well honed than they had been twenty years ago.

The only good news so far was that the hot tub remained out of bounds for both of them.

Not so good was the fact that Monroe's programme kept them bonded together like superglue during the day. They'd gone on two more hikes, luckily not to secluded waterfalls, done a two-hour horse ride—which her bottom had only just recovered from—and a geocaching trip the day before, during which they'd resolutely failed to find a single geocache.

But she'd discovered this morning that the next day of the programme involved a two-day kayak trip. Which meant one night spent at an island campsite on Fontana Lake.

And while part of her was pleased to have Luke secured in one spot with nowhere to hide, another part of her was very apprehensive about inviting any more intimacy into their situation.

That and the indisputable fact that she was not a natural-born kayaker.

Her arms were already chaffing on the PFD and she didn't like the look of the Tuckasegee River, even though Chad had
assured them that this fork of it, leading into Fontana Lake, was only a class two—which was supposed to translate as tame for this time of year. Tame was clearly relative, because the white froth rippling ominously over the rocky riverbed while they'd been driving along the NC288 towards their drop-off site in North Carolina did not look tame to her.

Still, at least her uneasiness over their latest adventure was distracting her from her uneasiness at spending the night with Luke at a wilderness campsite.

Because even more unsettling than the spike in sexual awareness had been the building familiarity. Each new day in the cabin brought with it a new reminder of the days they'd once spent together in their cramped council flat in Hackney.

He still drank his coffee black enough to tar the M4. He still smelled of sandalwood and minty toothpaste after his morning shower. He still only bothered to shave every couple of days, giving him an increasingly rakish look on his off days—the specks of grey in his stubble the only appreciable difference.

And to add to her apprehension about their night alone together was the fact she would have to do it without the trusty shield of make-up.

She'd never been high maintenance as a teenager, but an intricate personal grooming regime had become part of her daily routine in the years since. Not only did she not want to risk going out in London without her concealer and eyeliner and end up in some blurred snapshot in
Heat
magazine looking like a bag lady, the careful application of moisturiser and foundation, expensive powders and gels made her feel secure, protected, like a knight donning her armour ready to do battle with the demons of daytime TV.

Armour she needed now more than ever as a defence against Luke's dark arts of dishabille.

She'd already reduced the half hour she gave herself in London each morning to apply her make-up to a measly ten minutes, because it seemed like a rather daft indulgence to go hiking or geocaching in the middle of the Smoky Mountains. But this morning she'd been forced to go cold turkey, when Luke had taken one look at the bulky make-up case and announced, ‘You're not taking that. Perfume scents can attract bears. And, anyway, you don't need it. You look great without it.'

How would he know? Seeing as he hadn't seen her without since she was twenty? But as she could hardly point that out without making it seem as if she was wearing make-up for his benefit, she had been forced to leave the case behind. She hadn't even been able to take some portable concealer or lip gloss on pain of a flipping bear attack.

Then again, a day without make-up and the risk of a bear attack might be the least of her worries. After all, there was no guarantee that she'd even get to this campsite alive.

‘How long did you say it would take to get there?' Halle asked as she double-checked the fastenings on her PFD for the tenth time.

‘Between five and six hours,' Chad replied with an easy smile. ‘It's only twelve miles to the camp island from this location.'

‘Six hours to paddle twelve miles! Wouldn't it be quicker to walk?'

Chad seemed confused by the question. ‘I guess, but you get a great view of the landscape from the water. And the hiking's—'

‘Stop moaning and get in the bloody boat.' Luke interrupted Chad's earnest explanation.

‘If you don't mind, I'm trying to ascertain how long this is going to take.'

‘It's going to take a heck of a lot longer with you standing on the shore. And if we don't put up our tents before nightfall, you're going to be sleeping in the open with the bears.'

‘Stop bullying me,' she said, but she scrambled into the boat, the mention of bears having the desired effect.

She shrieked as she put her second foot into the boat and the kayak dipped on one side, obviously planning to toss her out on her arse.

Chad grasped her arm above the elbow to steady her. ‘Don't worry, ma'am. It's real hard to roll a kayak,' he reassured her, as if he'd read her mind. ‘They have a much lower centre of gravity than a canoe.'

‘Thanks for that.'

Stop calling me ‘ma'am'. I'm not your grandmother.

She held on to another shriek as she gripped the sides of the boat and settled into her cockpit behind Luke.

‘Your paddle, ma'am.'

She sent Chad a caustic smile as she took the short lightweight pole.

‘OK, folks, you're all set. Enjoy your trip.'

Chad gave the boat a hefty shove, jogging the kayak off the sandbank and propelling them into the water. Luke wheeled his paddle in a smooth arc that sent them into the current, the corded muscles of his upper arms flexing and stretching with each stroke.

Halle attempted to match her strokes to his rhythm.

Eventually, they settled into an even glide, the bright blue two-man kayak carried along by the current. Halle absorbed the sunlight on her skin, and the slight drift and pull of the river, managing to relax a little now that they hadn't immediately capsized.

Riverbanks crowded with shrubs and trees let off a resinous perfume to go with the cool fresh scent of the water,
any signs of human habitation vanishing as they left Chad and the drop-off location behind. The Tuckasegee River took a smooth sinuous course through the landscape. The swift current more manageable than she had expected as the water rippled over the stony riverbed.

Halle relaxed into their journey, clipping the surface with her paddle, while letting Luke do most of the work—with six hours to go she planned to conserve her energy.

He rotated his torso, rocking his hips to dig the double-ended paddle into the water. His shoulders lifted and tilted with each stroke, the muscles bunching against the arm-holes of his life vest.

She got a tiny bit transfixed.

Apparently, there was only so much scenery you could admire when you had a man of Luke's physique displaying his natural athletic ability two feet from your nose. Especially if you hadn't gotten laid in over a year.

‘Hey, look over there.' He pointed towards the bank. Halle spotted the hawklike bird perched on the top of a hawthorn tree, regal and serene as it stared at them.

‘What is it?' she asked as it launched off the branch and swooped into the sky.

‘An osprey, maybe. I have an e-book on the local wildlife on my iPad. We can check it out later.'

Halle smiled at his response. Luke had always been inquisitive, enthusiastic about discovering new things. ‘Since when did you become a twitcher?'

He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked. ‘I'm not the one who asked what it was.'

‘True.'

He nodded at her paddle, which she'd placed on the hull to watch the bird. ‘Start paddling, you freeloader. There's no passengers allowed on this boat.'

‘Aye aye, Captain.' She began paddling again, maybe exhaustion was the answer to curbing the liquid tug of the muscles in her abdomen.

Exhaustion was definitely the answer, followed by extreme boredom. For, however magnificent the Smoky Mountain scenery and its raw, primal overwhelming beauty, or Luke's very flexible, very expansive shoulders, there was only so much of either one you could appreciate when your arms were about to drop off.

By hour three of their kayak adventure, the scenery—both natural and man-made—had become completely beside the point.

The only thing that had kept her going this far was that she didn't want to give in first. She'd been on the receiving end of Luke's superior look rather frequently in the past eight days while trying to keep up on various hikes and horse rides, but he showed no signs of tiring whatsoever.

She steeled herself for the familiar raised eyebrow. ‘Isn't it about time for lunch?'

He lifted the paddle out of the water, swivelled round. ‘You knackered already? We've only been at it for a couple of hours.'

Hello, superior look.

‘I'm not knackered.'
Much.
‘I'm starving. It's got to be about four hours since breakfast. If it's all right with you, I'd like to eat before I start gnawing off my own arm. Or get third-degree sunburn.'

He tipped up the peak of her baseball cap. She struggled to match his superior look under the inspection, although it probably wasn't that effective given that she was totally knackered.

‘Did you put the sunscreen on? Your nose looks pink.'

She wrinkled the nose in question, making it sting. ‘You're not actually the captain of this little expedition, you know. That was just a joke on my part. Which I would never have made if I had realised you were Captain Bligh in a former life.'

He flipped her cap off. ‘He who does the lion's share of the work, gets to do the bossing about.'

‘Who says? And give me back the cap. It's the only protection I've got.'

‘I say so.' After dipping the cap into the river, he plopped it back onto her head. ‘There you go.'

Water soaked her hair and splattered onto her nose and face, dribbling into the neck of her T-shirt.

‘I thought you wanted to cool off,' he said.

She tilted the peak up to glare at him. ‘That's not what I had in mind.'

‘Effective, though, right?'

She couldn't deny the lake water felt glorious on her frazzled skin. But she wasn't ready to be grateful. ‘You look pretty hot yourself.'
And in more ways than one,
she thought, her pulse skittering at the dimple in his cheek as he smiled.

He whipped off his own cap and presented it to her. ‘Be my guest.'

Scooping up enough water to fill the cap to the brim, she slapped it onto his sweaty hair and drenched him.

Wiping his eyes, he smiled at her. ‘Cheers. Now let's go get you fed before you start cannibalising yourself.'

Her stomach rumbled on cue, audible above the gurgle of water, and her accelerated breathing. ‘Actually, I'm more likely to eat you after that stunt.'

The quick grin turned the twinkle of mischief to something potent and provocative before he turned back to steer the kayak towards the pebbled cove ahead of them.

The muscles in her abdomen knotted into a tight ball of need.

Whose idiotic idea was that bloody kiss again?

‘How much further is it?' There was no biting off the whine this time. Not after five hours and counting of beautiful never-ending Smoky Mountain wilderness.

She was so over this now. Her arms hurt, her fingers had calluses the size of dirigibles, her stomach had begun to cramp from hunger after two energy bars and an apple two hours ago, and even Luke's flexing shoulder muscles held no appeal whatsoever. She wanted to be back in her house in Notting Hill, preferably with her feet up, on her four-seater Heal's sofa with a gargantuan glass of chilled Pouilly-Fuissé in her hand. Not crossing the Smokies by canoe.

The going had been slow and sluggish, the river dragging beneath the kayak's hull like a pool of treacle. She'd happily embrace the danger of some white water now if it would get them moving a bit faster. To their destination. Any worries about sleeping in the same campsite with Luke had been well and truly quashed because nothing short of five well-oiled male strippers dancing naked on the hull was likely to rouse her lust now.