Last Summer(44)

“We’re really doing this?” She side-eyes the sleek black helmet with a reflective lens.

“Sure, why not?”

“I can’t talk to you with this on.” She inspects the helmet. Nathan fires up the snowmobile and revs the motor. “Or over that,” she yells.

“Yes, you can,” he shoots back. He points to the communication device inside the helmet. “But you’re not asking questions. I have to focus on driving.” He straps on his helmet.

She scowls and puts on her own.

“Play first. Talk later. Hop on, Skye.” His voice fills her head. He pats the seat behind him.

Ignoring the double entendre of his words, she straddles the seat.

“Hold on.” Nathan’s voice comes over the com.

She grasps his waist.

“Tighter or you’ll fall off.” He tugs her arms so that her chest is plastered to his back and her thighs tightly flank his. She bites her bottom lip to keep from groaning out loud. Holy moly, the fucker planned this.

“Here we go.”

Nathan maneuvers the vehicle through a narrow opening and then they’re off, soaring across the flat, white landscape. Ella shrieks with delight and the guilt she briefly felt earlier evaporates. Through the com, she can hear Nathan’s answering whoop of excitement.

When she was a sophomore in high school, Ella started dating a senior named Mike Tate, the same boy she was with the night Grace took her life. Ella broke up with Mike a few days after her best friend’s death. Guilt drove her to end their relationship, even though she was still into him. But she shouldn’t have been with him that night. She should have been with Grace. Looking back, though, Mike might have been the first boy she loved, and if it wasn’t him she loved, it was the rush she got when she was with him.

Mike owned a 2004 lime-green Kawasaki Ninja, spoiled ass that he was. The motorcycle purred with unbridled power when he let it fly down the freeway, weaving in and out of traffic, taking Ella for the joyride of her life. There was something exhilarating about her body breaking through the wind and the horsepower vibrating between her legs while going at top speed. Skating just inside of control.

Ella just now realizes that she hasn’t experienced such freedom since riding with Mike. Not even with Damien. And she hasn’t realized she missed this—craved it—until Nathan flies them over an embankment, catching air.

Laughing, she hugs him tighter. This is what he seeks when he free-climbs cliffs. This is the rush he chases when he skydives. This is what he wanted to share with Stephanie and she rejected it. She rejected him.

Did he find that rush with her?





CHAPTER 18

Ella forces herself to be present, to enjoy the ride. To not dwell on what she might have once felt for him or what he might have once meant to her.

They ride the ungroomed terrain for a couple of hours, and when the tank nears empty, they return to the truck. Laughing, knuckle-bumping, and high-fiving, they banter about the ride and muse over the spectacular views they captured through the trees. Ella snaps photos of Nathan and his sled, as he likes to refer to his snowmobile. Sled on steroids is more like it. She’ll use the pictures for the article since Rebecca didn’t assign a photographer. Nathan’s request. Ella only.

Nathan loads the snowmobile onto the trailer and straps it down. They pile into the truck’s cab and shut their doors at the same time.

“That was fun,” she says, breathless. She sets her camera on the dash and pulls off her gloves.

Nathan tosses his gloves aside and reaches behind him over the seat. “I brought hot chocolate. Want some?” He shows her the metal thermos.

“You’re prepared. Is it laced?”

He snorts a laugh. “No. I have to drive.” He pours two cups.

She blows across the surface of her drink. Steam moistens her nose. She takes a tentative sip. Rich chocolate with a cinnamon bite fills her mouth. “This is good.” Though she could have used a shot of whiskey to soothe the adrenaline pulsing through her. It might quell her craving to crawl onto Nathan’s lap. Or . . .

It could lower her resistance, and that wouldn’t be good at all.

Nathan presses the ignition button and lets the truck idle. Warm air circulates in the cab and Ella sheds her coat. A faint echo of her dream touches her mind. She doesn’t remember the specifics. The images are elusive, but the feelings are there. Arousal, need, and a burning desire to reach across the center console and touch Nathan overtake her. If she kisses him, would it feel familiar? Would touching him so intimately be strong enough to trigger her memories?

She hates that she yearns for him in the way a married woman shouldn’t.

Nathan watches her, and his brow creases. “What?”

She finishes her hot chocolate and places the empty cup in the cup holder. She might as well ask. “Did we sleep together last summer?”

Nathan sputters his hot chocolate. He lets out a nervous laugh, then looks at her. His expression says it all. The longing and regret. And hope.

Shit.

Why would he invite her up here? Does he expect to start something up again?

Hello? They’re married. To other people.

But that didn’t stop them before.

“Why am I here?” she asks him.

“I promised to take you snowmobiling.”

When did he promise that? Why make such a promise when they never should have gotten involved in the first place? And where were they for such a question to come up? It had been the middle of the summer.