Somewhere Only We Know (20 page)

"I had no idea I actually distracted you. Interesting."

A spark flashed in his eyes. "You distracted me a lot. More than I liked."

"Good."

"Why good?"

"You get a little too focused sometimes, Burke. You have to stop and look around once in a while."

He accepted the criticism with a thoughtful nod. "I didn't realize that back in high school."

"Well, I didn't realize a lot of things back in high school," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "We both had some growing up to do."

As they got further into the woods, she could hear the trickle of water hitting the rocks, and a moment later, they were at the creek.

There had been a fair amount of rain the past month, so the water was a foot deep and flowing fairly quickly downhill. The creek was about six feet across with several large rocks that were barely seen above the water.

"This was one of my favorite places growing up. Dani and I used to come down here all the time. Those were our stepping stones into a magical world." She pointed to the rocks. "We used to make up all kinds of stories. We were either going back in time and using the rocks as a portal to another era or we were crossing into a land of mystical creatures. We were far enough away from the house that we could be anywhere."

He smiled at her words. "Who had the bigger imagination? You or your sister?"

"It was probably me, but we were twins, so Dani had some great ideas, too, especially after she got sick. She became very spiritual and philosophical. She talked about heaven a lot. I wanted to believe in everything she said, particularly the part where we would see each other again." She paused, reflecting on how many years had passed since those childhood days. "I've now lived without her longer than I lived with her. That was a weird point to cross. I still miss her, too. Sometimes I wish her voice in my head was louder. It seems to get fainter every year."

"You'll never forget her, Maddie. She's part of you."

"For a long time I asked myself why she got sick and I didn't. We were twins. We shared so much, but somehow I dodged that bullet. They said it was a mutation of genes, not familial, not inherited, just exceptionally bad luck. It was so unfair." She drew in a deep breath, trying not to let the old anger take hold. "But Dani handled it with a lot of grace and fight. She was really amazing. I wish you'd known her."

"Me, too."

She glanced over at him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to take this day down."

"You didn't," he said quietly.

"Good, because I love being here. See that?" She pointed toward a beautiful yellow-winged monarch dancing from leaf to leaf on the bush across from them. "We used to try to catch butterflies here, too. My grandfather made a net for us, and we'd chase them all over the property."

"Did you catch any?"

"A few, but we always let them go. They're pretty to look at, but butterflies are meant to fly, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. It sounds like you had a lot of great times down here."

"The summers were the best. Did the Callaways ever get away? Did you have a favorite place growing up?"

"We didn't take many vacations. Eight kids made traveling both expensive and a huge headache. We did go up to the Russian River a few summers. My dad's uncle had a big house up there, and when he wasn't renting it out, we'd get to go. We used to canoe down the river, watch old movies in the park on hot nights and eat a lot of ice cream."

"That sounds nice," she said, happy to hear about some of Burke's memories.

"The first six of us were really close in age, so there was always someone to play with, but as I said, there wasn't as much money when I was really young. Dad was probably working every extra shift he could find to keep the ship afloat. Lynda used to work part-time, too, whenever she could squeeze in a few hours somewhere."

"I didn't realize money was an issue. You lived in a beautiful house."

"My mother's parents had money. The house was a wedding gift to my mom and dad. After my mom died, they insisted we stay there. They wanted their grandchildren to grow up in that house. I think they helped my dad out from time to time, although he's a proud man, so who knows if he was willing to take that help. And he did a good job providing for everyone. We never lacked for anything we needed, but I always knew that I was going to need to take care of myself as quickly as possible. There were a lot of kids behind me to put through school and get to adulthood."

"No wonder you were responsible so early."

He shrugged. "It wasn't difficult to see that my parents had their hands full. The twins, Shayla and Colton, had a lot more one-on-one time with Jack and Lynda. By the time they were in their early teens, the older kids had moved out. There was more room, more time, more money. Sometimes we tease them that they grew up in a different family from the rest of us."

"Are they close? Do they have the twin bond?"

"I think so. They definitely watch out for each other, but they're very different people. Shayla is a little more like me—intense, driven, ambitious, likes to be the best. Colton has a lot of drive, but he's much more easygoing, friendly, one of the guys."

"You're one of the guys, too, Burke. I saw how you were at the firehouse. You're their leader, but you're also their friend, and that's not always an easy combination to achieve."

"I try. What else are we going to see today? Or is this it?"

"Definitely not it. We haven't been to the barn yet. Come with me." She impulsively extended her hand, happy when Burke took it.

It felt right to hold his hand as she led him down a flowery path to a dark red barn about fifty yards from the main house. They paused by the empty riding ring.

"This is where I learned to ride," she said. "I think I was about four when my grandpa first put me up on a horse. Back then they had two horses in the barn, Lily and Rose. My grandmother liked to name her horses after her favorite flowers."

"I thought there was a Lulu."

"Lulu arrived when we were about ten. We were better riders by then, and my grandpa used to take us riding in the valley. There's a path over there that leads through some open land. You can take it all the way out to the ocean, but it's several miles away, and we never made it that far."

"No horses anymore," Burke commented as they entered the empty barn.

"There haven't been since my parents moved in. My mother was never enamored with riding. She had a scary experience as a kid. She got pushed into a stall when one of the horses was acting up, and she almost got kicked. After that, she pretty much avoided the barn. Every couple of years, my parents talk about demolishing this place or taking it down to the foundation and rebuilding it as a guest house, which I'm sure would be more practical and increase the value of the property, but I'd miss this old barn."

"Why?" he asked, doubt in his voice. "It's really not much to look at."

"Not down here, no. But you haven't seen the best part." She let go of his hand to pull down a ladder on a nearby wall. "Ever been in a hayloft?"

He smiled back at her. "No, this would be a first."

"Good. I love to be the first to show you something new."

"That actually seems to happen a lot when you're around," he said dryly.

She climbed up the ladder, and Burke quickly followed.

The loft wasn't very high, so Burke had to stoop as they walked toward the large window that overlooked the valley behind the property. She cranked open the window, letting a cool breeze into the stuffy loft, then she sat down on one of the three bales of hay that had probably been in the barn for at least a decade.

Burke squeezed onto the bale next to her, his powerful legs brushing against hers.

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, she thought, as a tingle ran down her spine.

"Great view," he said. "I didn't realize the house was on such a hill until now."

"The property dips down into the valley pretty quickly."

"Was this another spot you and Dani used to come to?"

"Yes, but as she got sicker, she couldn't make it up the ladder, so that pretty much ended that. I used to sneak down here at night, give Lulu a carrot, then come up here and look out at the stars." She didn't add that she'd spent a lot of those nights praying that her sister would get better. "It was a special place for me."

Burke put his hand on her thigh. She turned her head and looked into his eyes, seeing something in his gaze that she couldn't quite define.

"What?" she asked.

"Did you ever bring a boy up here?"

"No. This was my grandparents' house. I didn't know any boys around this neighborhood."

"So you never kissed anyone in this hayloft?"

She shook her head, her nerves jumping in anticipation at the playful, sexy gleam in his eyes. "I did not."

"Interesting. You're a hayloft virgin."

"Is there such a thing?"

"I'm pretty sure. Now let's see. What firsts have you introduced me to: First detention—"

"You're never going to forget that are you?"

"First time I ever ate pink mashed potatoes."

"You didn't even taste the pink and it was Valentine's Day."

"First horseback ride on the beach."

"Which was a first for both of us."

His gaze darkened. "True. It was a first for both of us, and today could be another first."

Her heart leapt into her throat and blood rushed through her veins at the purposeful look in his eyes. When Burke Callaway wanted something, he went after it, and he usually got it.

"Show me what you've got," she said lightly.

"Happy to." He put an arm around her shoulders, leaned in and covered her mouth with his. It was a kiss that started out slow…savoring, exploring, the heat rising as their breaths mingled and their tongues slid against each other in a deep, passionate kiss that quickly took on a life of its own.

It wasn't just his taste, his touch, his scent that undid her, it was the way he made her head spin, made her heart ache, made her need another kiss as much as she needed to breathe.

She felt surrounded, enveloped, overwhelmed and happy, happier than she'd ever been. Her rational brain suggested she fight the tempting feelings, that she protect her heart because it had already taken too many hits, but the other part of her brain wanted nothing more than complete and utter surrender. Making love with Burke would be amazing, wonderful, beyond any other adjectives she could think of. She knew that with a certainty. But afterwards… what would this man want from her?

She told herself not to go there. She didn't need to think about the future. She was the woman who lived in the moment. And what a moment it was…

Burke finally lifted his head, his breath coming fast, the pulse in his neck jumping to a wild beat. "Oh, Maddie," he murmured. "I don't know what to do about you. I've never known."

She'd never known, either. He'd always been that guy just out of her reach, someone she could want, but how much of herself would she have to give up to get him? It had always seemed like a lot, but not so much anymore.

"You're beautiful, smart. You kiss like a dream. Why didn't we do this before?" he asked.

"I don't know. We were both scared, I think. Maybe
still
a little scared."

He ran his hand down her cheek, brushing off a bit of hay. "Maybe," he agreed.

Before she could say anything else, her mother's voice drifted through the open window.

"Maddie, are you up there?"

Burke groaned. "I forgot about your parents."

She smiled. "It's been a long time since we had to worry about parents catching us in a make-out session." She moved off the hay and stuck her head out the window. "We're up here, Mom."

"Your dad says the steak is the absolute perfect temperature. Are you ready for lunch?"

"We'll be right down." She turned back to Burke. "Time for lunch. No decisions to make today," she added lightly.

He smiled. "Guess not. You might want to fix your hair a little. Or your parents might think you were rolling around in the hay."

She patted down her hair, tucking the strands behind her ears. "I'm sure they already think that. And I'm also certain they're very curious as to why you came with me, but they won't ask. They gave up trying to talk me in or out of a romantic relationship a long time ago. I'm not very good at taking their advice," she added, moving down the ladder. "I probably should get better."

"You like to make your own decisions, nothing wrong with that," he said, as they walked out of the barn.

"Unfortunately, some of those decisions have been bad."

"Live and learn."

"You're very philosophical today."

"I am," he said with an agreeable smile. "You bring out a lot of different sides of me, Maddie Heller."

"I like seeing your different sides. When you were younger, I didn't think you had any other side but intense."

"I was focused on what I needed to do."

"Are you still that focused?"

"I was, but since you showed back up in my life, I've been thinking about making some changes."

"Really? I've inspired a new thought?"

"More than one," he said dryly.

She felt the heat run through her cheeks at the look in his eyes. "I wasn't talking about
those
kinds of thoughts."

"I know. You've inspired me because of all you've done. You've been all over the world. You've met an amazing number of people. You've challenged yourself and tried new things. I've lived in San Francisco my entire life."

"You can still travel, Burke. There's time."

"Only if I make the time."

"Well, that's true. It's all up to you."

He gave her a thoughtful look as they walked up the path. "Are you going to stay in San Francisco, Maddie?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"Do you believe a free spirit like yourself could ever be happy settling in one place? You've always reminded me of the butterfly you showed me earlier, always flitting from one place to the next, never finding home, never resting too long."

His words were very true. Up until she'd said "yes" to Paul's impulsive proposal, she'd never been ready to call anyplace home. During the two months in which they were engaged, she'd tried to see Las Vegas as home. It was where Paul's life was, and it could be her life, too. At least that's what she'd told herself. But that life had ended. Now she was back in San Francisco—where it had all begun.