Hard Impact: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Novel (26 page)

Read Hard Impact: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Novel Online

Authors: Helen Grey

Tags: #steamy sex, #bad boy, #hot guys, #secret past, #journalist, #billionaire romance, #sexy secrets

When Blake tugged hard on the lines, we slowed down still more. The ground grew ever closer.

“Bend your legs!” he instructed.

I did, and then the ground rose up to meet us. His feet touched ground first, then mine, and then we were toppling sideways and landing on our sides in the dirt. The moment I touched terra firma, I began to laugh, almost hysterically. Actually, I couldn’t tell whether I was crying or laughing, maybe a combination of both.

Blake wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his laughter also ringing in my ears.

“You did it, Misty! You did it!”

The joy in his voice brought tears to my eyes. While I couldn’t say I would ever do that again, I could say that I had. The experience had been exhilarating. No, more than exhilarating. It had been—

He gave me a hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You did great!”

I heard the rumble of a truck and turned to see a small pickup coming toward us. Moments later, Jacob emerged from the cab, a broad smile on his face. Soon, he stood next to us, reaching down a hand. Blake took it, and he and I picked ourselves up from the ground. Blake unhitched our harnesses, then spun me around and enveloped me in another hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist, my head nestled under his chin. His heart pounded with excitement. Mine did too. He gently set me away from him, gazing down into my face.

“You okay?”

I felt my face heat with emotion. I blinked back happy and relieved tears and nodded. “I’ve never done anything so scary or so exhilarating in my life!”

He laughed and then pulled me in for another hug. Following congratulatory words by Jacob, we separated once again. Blake reached to unfasten my harness and then helped me out of it. Then he paused and grinned down at me.

“Oh… maybe I should have waited. Do you want to go again?”

“No!” I exclaimed, realizing he was teasing. “Once was enough for me.”

Blake nodded, handed the harness to Jacob, and then began to pull on the lines of the overlarge parachute lying on the ground behind us. Together, he and Jacob grabbed up the yards of nylon and shoved the bundle into the back of the pickup. Blake gestured for me to climb into the cab and I did, squeezed between Jacob on one side, Blake on the other.

As we headed back toward the hangar, bouncing over the ruts and dips in the field, I clenched my hands tightly together between my knees, not wanting to instinctively reach out to grab onto Blake’s thigh during the jostling ride back to the hanger. I couldn’t believe what I had just done.

“You think my guests will enjoy the experience?” Blake finally asked.

I glanced at him and smiled. “Yes, it was quite a thrill. I’ve never done anything quite so adventurous.”

Blake nodded and then turned to Jacob. “I’ll go up again if you don’t have any passengers flying up.” He turned to me. “There’s a small stand of bleachers near the airfield. You can wait there for me, okay?”

I nodded, amazed that he wanted to go up again. Once wasn’t enough for him? But then I imagined that tandem jumping was probably not as exhilarating as free falling on his own, at least not for Blake. As I thought about it, I realized that I looked forward to seeing him jump by himself.

After we returned to the hangar, we headed inside. A few moments later, I heard the sound of the small aircraft returning. Jacob headed for a set of headphones attached to a communication board, told the pilot to keep the aircraft running, and that Blake was going up again. Blake quickly helped me out of my jumpsuit, and replaced his tandem harness with a single. I had no idea regarding the difference between the two because they looked similar, but in moments he was headed toward the table with the parachutes. Once again, Jacob helped him attach the gear to the harness.

With my satchel safely slung over my shoulder and the jeans and sweatshirt nestled in the crook of my arm, I watched as the men walked together outside of the hangar and toward the aircraft. I followed a few steps behind, not able to catch what the two of them were saying. Once outside of the hanger, I glanced to the left and saw the small set of metal bleachers that Blake had mentioned. Several people sat on the bleachers, apparently watching jumpers as they went up and then came down.

I headed toward it, glancing back once over my shoulder in time to see Blake step into the aircraft. As I took a seat on one end of the bleachers, I watched as the plane moved slowly down the airstrip and then accelerated.

“I saw you come down. Did you have fun?”

I glanced over my shoulder and realized the middle-aged woman sitting a few seats back was speaking to me. I nodded. “Yes, I did. It was my first time.”

The woman smiled. “My name’s Maggie… Maggie Bass. I own the sky diving company with my brother, Jacob.” She gestured toward the small aircraft, just now lifting off the ground. “You with Blake Masters?”

“Sort of,” I replied, offering a brief shrug. “I haven’t known him that long.”

“He’s a good guy. Helped us open this company two years ago after he bought the Camp Robber. We’re promoting each other, which is a good idea here in Jackson Hole. You from around here?”

I shook my head as I watched the small plane soar into the sky. “No.” I had to speak a little louder to be heard above another plane roaring past in the opposite direction. “I’m from San Francisco.”

“Vacation?” the woman asked.

I wasn’t comfortable with explaining the true nature of my relationship with Blake. “You could say that.” I smiled.

“Like I said, Blake’s a good guy, despite all the gossip you might hear about him around here.”

I turned from the airplane back to Maggie. “Gossip? Here in Jackson Hole?”

She gave me a curious look. “You
do
know about his past, don’t you?”

I felt a flash of annoyance at the woman. A surge of… what, protectiveness, regarding Blake bolted through me. “Some,” I hedged.

“Ever since he and his mother moved here about six years ago, people have gossiped. Can’t blame them, really, considering his past.”

I frowned. Blake’s mother lived
here?
In Jackson Hole?

“They both kept to themselves for the longest time. His mother, Eileen, is a wonderful woman. Owns the Precious Greens nursery just outside of town. A bit of a recluse, but that’s understandable too. Blake, well, let’s just say that in his younger years, his reputation preceded him, not only because of… well, because of what happened to his dad, but because of his reputation as one of the hottest catches in town.”

I did my best to school my expression of surprise, not wanting to give anything away. Blake had mentioned his reputation of being a player, even though he denied it, and I supposed that would probably follow him around forever. Once labeled a player, always a player, or so the gossip rags claimed. The more I found out about Blake, the more curious I was to try and unravel his past. Not for the magazine, but for myself.

“He’s quite a catch, don’t you think?”

I glanced at the woman and smiled. “What’s not to like?”

“Indeed,” the woman agreed.

I turned around in the bleachers, catching sight of the small plane as it began to circle back toward the airfield. So Eileen Masters lived in Jackson Hole. Imagine that. I knew that I would have to try to find the woman, call her, and perhaps even interview her. What better way to get to the truth?

As the plane headed over the airfield, I saw Blake jump. For a second, my heart leapt into my throat. He shot down nearly vertically toward the ground, much faster than I imagined someone could fall. He looked like a bullet, not spread-eagled as we had come most of the way down together. When would he pull his chute? He shot downward. He
was
going to pull his chute, wasn’t he? My heart began to pound.
Pull your chute! Pull your chute!

Faster and faster, Blake aimed himself toward the ground. My God, how fast was he going? He looked like an arrow racing toward a target, his legs together, his arms pressed close to his side. My gaze riveted to his form, my eyes wide, I half-stood as he raced ever closer to Earth. And then, just when I began to despair that his chute would never open, it blossomed over him. I was surprised by the relief that surged through me. Damn him for scaring me! My knees weak, I sat back down onto the bleachers.

“You better keep an eye on him,” Maggie chuckled, climbing down the bleachers and pausing in front of me for a moment before she headed toward the hangar. “That one’s got a streak of recklessness in him that’s going to catch up to him someday if he’s not careful.”

Sobered by the thought, I turned my gaze from Maggie back to Blake, who was just now pulling on the chute strings, maneuvering his landing approach. He landed on his feet, taking a few running steps as his feet touched ground, unlike our earlier, less than graceful landing.

I felt the beginning of a headache forming behind my eyes, more than likely due to the surges of adrenaline, the stress, and now the relief that Blake was all right. As he began to gather his chute, once again waiting for Jacob to go out into the field to collect him, I immediately began to wonder how I would find his mother.

I knew better than to tell Blake that I wanted to talk to her. Maybe it would just be best if I didn’t tell him just yet. Maybe, if Eileen Masters agreed to speak to me, I would tell him afterward.

But not before.

C
HAPTER
11

Misty

B
y the time we left the airfield and headed toward the Camp Robber Resort, I was able to calm myself a little. Not much, but a little. I was still experiencing the exhilaration of the adventure, along with an intense sensation of self-pride and confidence. While the skydiving venture had pretty much — no, definitely — been thrust upon me, Blake had given me a chance to back out, to say no. I hadn’t. I’d done it!

While I couldn’t say that I would willingly do it again, I could say that I had faced my fears and gone through with it. The fact that Blake had been attached to my harness had made me feel safer. Would I have jumped on my own? No. But with Blake, I’d felt as if nothing could harm me.

He exuded confidence, knowledge, and experience. I could imagine that he’d done everything that he was offering his potential customers. Skydiving, rock climbing, kayaking down rapids, you name it; I had no doubt that Blake Masters was a man who would let nothing stop him. I was also beginning to realize that though he was an adrenaline junkie, he wasn’t careless. Watching him carefully inspect his helicopter, check his harnesses, and mine, before we went skydiving proved to me that he was not only aware of safety, but a proponent of safety. He may do stupid stuff, but he wasn’t reckless.

While I couldn’t say that I understood the desire to scare the shit out of yourself, I did understand a little bit more than I had before I met him. I wasn’t a thrill seeker, I knew that. I had experienced more fear, anxiety, and exhilaration since I met Blake than I had in years. The constant warring of emotions between panic and excitement was a thin line. While I didn’t necessarily want to seek out those feelings, I knew they were helping me gain a greater understanding of who Blake was, if just a little bit.

Not only was I still reliving the thrill, and the terror, of tandem skydiving with Blake, I was nervous about the plan I had devised as we made our way to the ranch. Blake had told me on the way that he had a meeting to attend that would probably take most of the afternoon.

I wasn’t disappointed that I wouldn’t get the chance to interview him at least until this evening. On the contrary. After hearing that Eileen owned a local nursery named Precious Greens, I looked forward to going there. As soon as Blake left for his meeting, I would call a taxi, have it come pick me up at the ranch and take me to the nursery. The thought of being able to interview someone as close to Blake as his mother both thrilled and intimidated me. What if his mother was as adamant about her privacy as Blake? What if she absolutely refused to speak to me?

Well, all I could do was try.

Perhaps, if I just mentioned that I was in town with Blake, his mother would be more willing to engage in conversation. At the same time, I wasn’t sure if I could be so deceptive. I knew what Melanie would say. “
Put your big girl pants on and do your job.”

Still, the thought of being so underhanded made me uncomfortable, especially with anyone that had anything to do with Blake. Then again, I knew this was a one-time opportunity. There was no way I could go to Kansas and review the case history, even if I did manage to finagle my way into the police department, and if I could manage to find a detective that had actually worked the case.

I knew that Angela was expecting results. I was trying my best, really I was, but I didn’t know how much longer I would have with Blake. Maybe this would be our last stop. This was my third day with him. He said he would be gone about a week. That didn’t mean he planned on taking me along for every property review or inspection and I knew it. I had the feeling that if I didn’t get some information by the end of the day, I could pretty much kiss the interview, or at least the reason behind it, goodbye.

At the moment however, I was torn between wanting to do a good job for Angela, to impress her with my abilities, while at the same time I was still annoyed with her for neglecting to mention that I would be spending more than a few hours with the billionaire. I felt like I had been sabotaged. That I had—

“Here we are,” Blake’s voice interrupted my musings. “The Camp Robber.”

I focused my gaze out the windshield. My mouth dropped open. We were outside of Jackson Hole proper, facing northwest. Nothing but wide open plains and the long, knee-high grass blowing gently in the breeze. Tree studded hills rose in the near distance, and beyond that, a mountain range. The Tetons were tall, majestic, and jagged looking. As fierce and wild as the rest of this country.

Blake stopped the truck he had driven from the airfield in front of a short fence line. Logs formed a short entrance gate of sorts, framing each side of a road that seemed to go for miles into the distance, until it disappeared around the base of the hill. Over the dirt road hung a sign made of planks, with deep carvings that had been charred, much like a branding iron mark with the stylized Western font proclaiming Camp Robber Ranch and Resort.

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