Falling for the Groomsman (11 page)

His eyes latched onto hers, understanding shining from within their green depths. “I definitely get that, more than you’d think. It’s why I left the States. I needed to be on my own. Have no one waiting on me…needing me…you know? Be free.”

“I know.” She met his eyes and held her breath. “I get it.”

And she totally did.

He held her gaze, neither one of them moving for a while. “Good.”

She knew what just happened there. She hadn’t misunderstood the weight behind those words. He’d been explaining why he left, and she really
did
get it. They’d been so young back then. What had she expected from him? A proposal?

That would have been a disaster.

He looked down at his lap before handing her a protein bar. Once she took it, he stood up and stalked toward the shadows with a flashlight in his hand. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

Her heart faltered. “Where are you going?”

“To collect firewood.”

As he disappeared into the shadows, she nibbled on the protein bar. He’d left four on the sleeping bag, but she planned on eating one. He needed to eat, too, and who knew how long it would take for them to find their way back to the resort? No matter how hungry she was she had to control her portions as best as possible.

As the time passed, and she was left feeling even more alone than when she’d been in the trees, she fidgeted with the empty wrapper. Tyler’s backpack rested a few feet away, so she dragged it over and pulled out the other flashlight. After turning it on, she shone it into the shadows to search for any signs of movement. Nothing.

No bears. No wolves. No bigfoot. He lived in the forest, right? At least she didn’t have to worry about the abominable snowman or the Loch Ness monster.

Her heart sped up with each passing minute, but she didn’t know what she was worried for. It’s not like Tyler would leave her out here alone to die or something. But…he could have fallen down a cliff or gotten eaten by a bear…

Why did all of her thoughts end with someone getting eaten by a bear?

She swallowed the rising panic and shone the flashlight into the backpack. What else was in his bag, anyway? That’s just the distraction she needed. Placing the flashlight in between her teeth, she dug around a little bit. There was a handful of condoms in blue wrappers, a few more protein bars, a thermos, and…a bottle of vodka.

Damn
, he’d been holding out on her. She pulled out the liquor and undid the lid. This should warm her right up. As she lifted it to her lips, a twig snapped behind her.

She spun and shone the flashlight in that direction—right into Tyler’s eyes. He flinched and squeezed them shut. “Jesus, Christine. Can you remove the spotlight, please? I can’t see a damn thing with that shining in my eyes.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She shone the flashlight toward the middle of the clearing instead, watching as he made his way there and arranged the logs and sticks in his hands. “So…vodka and condoms. Is that standard Boy Scout fare?”

“No.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’d been planning on maybe camping out here today. The vodka was my company.”

Interesting. “And the condoms…?”

“Left over from an excursion in Africa.” When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. “No, not an orgy. I was giving them out to teenagers to try to help prevent the spread of STDs. That’s all.”

“Hmm.” Every time he told her something he did, she admired him more. She lifted the bottle to her mouth and took a tentative sip. “How long were you in Africa?”

“A year.” He looked up at her. “Then I went to Brazil for six months. I just came back from there.”

“Business or pleasure?”

He set twigs up on the ground. “Business. Always business. But I tend to stay in whatever country I’m in for a week after my assignment is over for pleasure.”

Jealousy hit her with its big, ugly, sharp green nails. “What
kind
of pleasure? Do you have a woman in love with you in every country?”

He snorted. “No.”

“Then what do you do?”

“Skydive. Bungee jump. Hike.” He glanced her way. She wished she could make out his expression. “Basically, if it can kill me? I love doing it. Probably why I’m addicted to you.”

She swallowed hard. Jeez, maybe now she preferred him sleeping his way around the freaking world. At least it wouldn’t
kill
him. Time to change the subject. What had they been talking about? Oh. Right. His alone time in the woods. “Sorry I interrupted your man time.”

He chuckled and piled a bunch of sticks on top of one another. “I think I’ll survive. I happen to like my present company.”

Her cheeks heated. Was she actually blushing because he said he
liked
her? Holy crap. She was a goner. Silently, she watched him pile more and more wood on top of the pile, seeming for all the world as if he knew what he was doing. “What do you have to do to start a fire? Rub two sticks together or something? Bang some rocks against each other?”

He laughed and reached into his pocket. “Sure. Or you could use a lighter and some dry kindling.”

Her cheeks got even hotter. “That works, too,” she said, nodding as if she had a clue what he was talking about. She
so
didn’t. “Once you get that going, you need to eat.”

“I will once I’m ready,” he answered dismissively. He piled a bunch of dry leaves in a heap, and held his lighter beneath those. Smoke rose from the bottom, and he picked up some more leaves, turning them in his hand until they were aflame. “You can eat some more though.”

“No, thank you.”

He didn’t look at her, just kept feeding leaves to the fire. After a little while, he tossed a few small twigs in, adjusting where needed. Seeing him working like that, making a fire in the middle of nowhere while she huddled in his sleeping bag, made her realize how resourceful it was.

And it turned her on. She couldn’t help it.

His competence out here in the wild was
hot
.

Something about watching him make fire with his hands made her all warm inside. Or maybe it was the vodka. She shrugged and took another swig. Either way, she wanted him more than she should. “It’s only a matter of time ’til they notice we’re missing. Worst case, I’m supposed to meet Kady for a workout session at seven tomorrow morning.”

He nodded. After a few more minutes of adjusting, Tyler sank back on his heels. “I think we’re good now.”

She pressed the lip of the vodka bottle to her mouth. “Looks good. I can feel it already.”

“You need to come closer to the heat. It won’t bite.” He grabbed a hold of the bottom of the sleeping bag and dragged her across the clearing. “But I might.”

She let out a squeal and clung to the bottle. As soon as she was within reach, he snatched it out of her hands and took a hit. Swiping the back of his hand over his lips, he eyed her. She fluttered her lashes at him. “I don’t mind it when you do it.”

“Yeah.” He took another swig and handed it back. “I know that, too.”

“You think know everything, don’t you?”

He shook his head, studying her in the firelight. “About some things? Sure. But I don’t know enough about the things that matter.”

Oh, God. He was talking about her, wasn’t he? Her heart picked up speed and raced off into the shadowy woods. Swallowing hard, she peeled the corner of the sleeping bag back. “This thing is big. I bet we can both fit. Climb in.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He eyed her as if he wanted to take her up on his offer, but he looked away and held his hands out to the fire. “I’ll be good out here. You stay warm.”

She knew what he was doing. He was always so worried about everyone else’s safety and comfort that he never stopped to care for his own. If he got in, she might be cramped. So…he wouldn’t. Well, with her, that wouldn’t fly. “You’ll get in the sleeping bag, or I’ll refuse to stay in it.”

“You wouldn’t.” He turned to her and scanned her face. “You’d freeze your pretty little ass off. An ass I happen to love.”

“You better save it. Either we’re both comfortable, or we’re both cold. It’s that simple.”

“There’s no way we’ll both fit in there, Red,” he said, his voice low. “We’d be plastered to each other all night long, unable to move a single limb. I could kick your ankle and hurt you again. It’s not happening.”

“I can handle that risk.” She tipped the edge back more. “Can you? Or are you scared?”

He raised a brow. “Do I look like I get fucking
scared
to you?”

“Prove it. Get in.”

“Why do you care so much?” He dragged a hand through his hair with a quick motion. “I told you not to worry about me.”

“You’re always so busy seeing to everyone else’s comfort.” She cocked her head to the side. “Who worries about you?”

“No one, but I don’t need anyone to.”

“Yes, you, do,” she said, holding his gaze. “We all do, sometimes. Get. In.”

He took a deep breath, mumbled something under his breath, and crawled up to her. After handing her the bottle, he slid inside. He was right. They were glued to each another, from head to toe. Or more like from head to calf, since her toes reached halfway down his leg. “There. Happy now?”

“Nope.” She set aside the booze, her head spinning from the effects of the alcohol on her mostly empty stomach, and rested her head on his arm. “Not yet.”

He wrapped his free arm around her waist and sighed. “What do you want now?”

“This.” She held the bar she’d grabbed before he joined her between their faces. “Eat it for me.”

He clenched his jaw. “I told you, I’ll eat when I’m ready. Honestly, I think my hunger wore off hours ago.”

“And I told you that I’m worried about you, whether you want me to be or not.” She poked him in the chest. “So you’ll eat it and you’ll like it, damn it, because I care.”

His mouth softened, and he lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Red. I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll eat it.” She unwrapped it and shoved it under his nose. “It’s open now. It’ll go bad if you don’t.”

He let out an aggravated sigh, but the amusement in his eyes ruined the annoyed effect he was going for. “You’re a lot more stubborn than I remember you being.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She wiggled the bar under his nose. “Now eat.”

He let go of her, snatched it out of her hand, and took a big bite. “Have you always been this bossy?”

“No. I kind of grew into it with age.” She lifted a shoulder and rested her hands against his chest. “My turn to ask a question.”

He arched a brow and swallowed. “Are we making this a game?”

“Sure, why not? I don’t think there’s anything good on television tonight anyway,” she said, gesturing toward the fire. “Do you like being a doctor?”

He took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Yeah. I love helping people. Healing people. I get a bigger thrill out of going overseas to help people who can’t find clean water, let alone quality health care.”

“Do you—?”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “Slow down there, Ms. Journalist. It’s my turn to ask a question.”

Her stomach tightened when he ran his finger down her lower lip, his eyes on her mouth. He looked like he was debating kissing her. All she could think was:
heck yeah, do it
. “Go ahead.”

She wasn’t sure if she was giving him permission to kiss her or ask her a question, but he seemed determined to do the latter. “How many men have you been with since me?”

She choked on a laugh. “And here I was being nice with an easy question.”

“I’m not nice like you,” he said. “Answer me.”

“Yeah you are. You’re just nosy, too.”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Now answer.”

“Fine.” She scooted out of the sleeping bag and hugged her knees. He sat up, unzipped the sleeping bag, and tucked their feet inside. “But if you want me to answer the question, you better hand over that bottle next to you.”

He picked up the vodka and gave it to her. “Here you go. But give it back. I might need a swig before I hear the answer.”

She took the bottle and sipped before she returned it to him, watching as he washed down the last of his protein bar with some vodka. He set it down and stretched his legs inside the sleeping bag. She rested her leg against his, soaking in his heat.

“Five.” She peeked up at him and blew out a breath. “None of them were serious.”

“Oh.” He flexed his jaw. “I see.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t seriously think I was a born-again virgin, did you?”

He looked back at her, his eyes flashing. “No. But I underestimated the effect that the thought of another guy touching you would have on me. I don’t like it.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the possessiveness in his voice and the way he looked at her. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t go getting all territorial. She couldn’t let herself
like
it, because she’d only been crossing items off her list. Nothing more. Ignoring the need swirling violently within her, she forced her mind back to the topic at hand. “My turn. How many have
you
been with?”

He flinched. “To be honest? I didn’t keep count.”

Jealousy ripped through her. Unwanted, harsh, hot, ugly jealousy. “That many?”

“It’s not that. I just tried not to concentrate on it or anything.” He dragged a hand through his hair and took a long pull of the vodka. “I guess…ten or fifteen? Maybe.”

“At least you didn’t say fifty,” she mumbled, wanting to punch him in his perfect face. “Or a hundred.”

Reaching out, he toyed with a piece of her hair. “Are you jealous, Red?”

“Me?” She snorted. “Jealous?” She snorted again. Okay. She was kind of starting to sound like a dying pig. “Of course not.”

He smirked. “Don’t be. They’re all faceless women to me, really. A means to an end, or a way to scratch an itch. I never wanted a relationship, or anything remotely resembling one. I’m already married to my job. Plus, none of them made my heart race and my palms sweat. None of them made me forget who I was and what I wanted out of life, or made me second-guess myself in those very things.”

“Is that the medical definition of love?” she asked. If so, she was screwed, because he did that to her. Always had. “Sweaty palms, racing hearts, and forgotten dreams?”