We'll Never Tell (Secrets of Ravenswood) Page 4
Sugar Pine Creek rushed down a fern covered hillside in a sparkling cascade, providing a scenic panorama for diners. Ethan parked in front of the red and white striped awning over the main entrance to Rosa’s Place and hurried around to open her door. His big, calloused palm holding her arm as they entered the restaurant sent a rush of warmth through her. The hostess led them to a small table at the back of the room with a view of the creek. Sam slid onto her chair and let out a breath when he finally released her. Keeping her distance was going to be a challenge.
A dilemma which intensified when he hit her with one of those killer smiles.
“Wine?”
“What’s pasta without red wine?”
Ethan’s smile grew. “Good point.”
Trying not to notice how her insides quivered, she studied him as he spoke to the server. The clean line of his profile—strong jaw, hard chin, and straight nose—appealed to her sense of order. But when he turned and blinked those long-lashed blue eyes, her heart stuttered.
She grasped for words. “So, what’s new?” Lame, Sam, seriously lame.
Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair. “Not much. I spend most of my time working with my dogs, with an occasional foray with the search and rescue team whenever Ken calls.” He glanced toward the window and the panoramic view of the creek before his gaze returned to settle on hers. “I did a lot of backcountry hiking this summer.”
“Sounds—solitary.”
“I’ve never been what you’d call social.”
“We have that in common.” She glanced down at the menu. “I think I’ll have the spinach raviolis.”
He shut his menu and raised an eyebrow. “You’re plenty social. You and your friend, Juliette, are practically joined at the hip when you’re home.”
“I do have a couple of good friends who stick by me, even when I disappear for months at a time. I meant I don’t go out much.”
The candle stuffed into a wine bottle next to the bread basket flickered. Their server, a pert redhead who smiled brightly at Ethan, stopped at the table, opened a bottle of merlot, and poured a splash into his glass. He sipped and nodded. After taking their orders, she glided away.
Sam pointed at the retreating woman’s swaying hips. “Your solitary condition must be self-imposed. I’m certain you wouldn’t have a bit of trouble rustling up company if you wanted it.”
His gaze followed her figure but didn’t linger. “I’m not averse to dating, but it isn’t easy to find someone who will put up with me—and my dogs.”
She was willing to bet there were plenty of women who would suffer a little dog hair to date Ethan. “You leave the toilet seat up, dirty socks on the floor, dishes in the sink, what?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.” His eyes glimmered with amusement. “I’m an old dog. I don’t want to learn new tricks.”
She clicked her tongue and nodded. “Thirty-two is ancient. You’re practically ready for a retirement home.”
His lips quirked up at the corners. Flipping back the checked cloth on the bread basket, he offered her a roll. “You’re a smart ass. Anyone ever mention that before?”
Their fingers brushed when she took the roll, and a tingle shot up her arm. “Maybe once or twice.”
He smoothed a pat of butter across his roll and met her gaze. “Why aren’t you married, or engaged, or at least involved with someone? You aren’t exactly hard on the eyes.”
The warm contentment filling her faded. She sipped her wine. “Men tend to look elsewhere when the date on your return home ticket is open ended.”
The sympathy in his eyes tugged at her heart.
“Do you ever get tired of it, spending so much time in strange places?”
“You call them strange. To me, they’re exotic. It’s all semantics.” She stared down at the roll, crumbling pieces onto her plate. “This last trip may have been a little over the top. I got involved in a project reconstructing a school in this tiny village…” She abandoned her food but didn’t look up. “I’ve been thinking about cutting back on my travel schedule, maybe sticking a little closer to home.”
“Do you do it for the adventure?”
She opened her mouth then shut it when their salads were delivered. After the server bestowed another smile on Ethan before leaving, Sam picked up her fork. “It started out that way. The rush of finding a victim alive in the rubble of a building is similar to the way you feel when you leap out of a plane.”
He choked on a crouton. “I’m going to have to take your word for it.”
She smiled at the glassy look in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried sky diving?”
“I prefer to keep my feet on solid ground.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Believe it or not, I’m okay with that.”
Their conversation grew more general as they ate their main course, discovering a shared interest in mystery novels and action movies. He twirled pasta around his fork and smiled. “You don’t like those chick flicks?”
She yawned and patted her lips. “Boooring. Juliette adores them. Me, I like blood and guts and car chases.”
He leaned back in the chair, his smile broadening. “Will you marry me, Sam?”
Her burst of laughter turned a few heads at other tables. She clamped her hand over her mouth, but a few snickers escaped. “Geez, is a love of murder and mayhem all it takes to get a guy’s attention?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
They finished their meal and lingered over coffee. The rich aroma of garlic and marinara, the murmur of conversations around them, and the dim lighting lulled Sam into a state of contented lethargy. She tried to remember the last time she’d felt so relaxed—and failed.
“Am I boring you into a coma?” Ethan asked, his lips twitching.
“Not at all. I was just thinking how nice this is, letting go of all my problems and simply enjoying an evening. No pressure.”
“None at all.” He swallowed the last of his coffee and set down the cup. “It’s still early. Do you want to go for a drive, maybe up to Rainbow Lake?”
His gaze held hers, warm and intent. A flash of anticipation shot through her. Rainbow Lake sounded—safe. Certainly more so than inviting him into her little cabin.
“It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful evening. The moon was full a couple of nights ago, so it’ll be gorgeous.”
Ethan paid the check, silencing her with a look when she protested. “My idea. My treat.”
“Next time, then.”
He held her chair then rested his hand on her back as they left the restaurant. “I like that.”
She glanced over and raised a brow. “That I don’t mind paying?”
“That you’re considering a next time. Definite progress.”
Smiling, she slid onto the truck seat but waited until he got in to answer. Turning sideways, she touched his hand. “It isn’t that I didn’t want to see you again after we…after…” Clearing her throat, she drew her finger along a ripped seam in the upholstery. “The timing was screwed up.”
He captured her hand and squeezed it. “And now?”
“I just got home. I’m not going anywhere, not for a while.”
“Good.” He started the engine and headed west out of town. When they passed a long driveway, he pointed. “That’s my place.”
The outdoor porch lights shone beside the door of the log structure set far back from the road. “Not a lot of neighbors out here.”
“Definitely a plus when you have a dozen or more dogs at any given time. A single squirrel scampering across the yard can create quite a ruckus.”
The two lane road they were on climbed through thick forests that thinned as they neared the lake. Granite cliffs towered over an alpine gem that gleamed like a sapphire in the moonlight. A campground edged the south side where humped domes of tents resembled a hobbit town. They bumped over the rutted track along the west shore to a deserted beach and parked.
Ethan
pocketed the keys. “There’s a blanket behind the seat we can sit on.”
She climbed out, hugging her sweater around her in the evening chill. He tilted the seat forward and pulled out a plaid, wool blanket. Elbows brushing, they walked down to the water. After he shook the blanket and spread it out, she sat, making sure to leave a foot of space between them when he joined her.
The moon hovered over the cliffs on the far side of the lake, shedding a silvery light across the water. She leaned back on her elbows, crossed her feet at the ankles, and sighed.
“I can’t imagine anyplace more beautiful than this. I guess it’s why I keep coming back to Ravenswood.”
“I love it up here. My neighbor and a couple of his buddies camped at the lake last night. I was tempted to join them, but this is much better than beer and fish stories.”
Sam grinned. “Sounds like it could easily turn into a pissing contest. My—fish—is bigger than yours. Are they still at the campground?”
“No, I saw Arnie’s Jeep drive by my house early this afternoon.”
“So, I guess it’s just us.”
“Just us.” He slid across the blanket and picked up her hand.
A quiver ran through her.
“What are you looking for, Sam? I need to know because I don’t want to scare you away again.”
The stillness of the night was broken by a bullfrog croaking in the shallows. Her heart thumped. “I like you, Ethan. There’s an ease about you…” She gave a little shrug. “…a calmness that I need right now. And I won’t pretend I don’t feel the attraction between us.”
His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand. “Do you want to do something about it?”
She sucked in a breath. “I do, but I don’t want to get hurt.”
“Who says you have to?”
She leaned against his shoulder, and he slid his arm around her waist.
“I know how these things work. I’ll leave to help at an earthquake in China or a Tsunami in India or an epidemic in Africa. You’ll say you’ll be around when I get back, but…”
“But what?”
The words whispered across her ear, and she shivered. “You’ll meet some cute little thing who’s on vacation, or a nice woman looking for a new dog and a bit of human companionship.” She hunched one shoulder. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“You have it all figured out.” His words were clipped.
She stiffened. “Experience. Not that I blame a guy for moving on. I realize waiting around for someone isn’t exactly fun on a Saturday night.”
“So you don’t let yourself get too involved, and everyone is happy?”
Sam tried to remember the last time she was happy—heart soaring, stomach fluttering, pulse racing happy—and came up empty. “Something like that.”
He pulled her against him until their hips pressed together. “You are such a liar.”
The edge in his voice was gone. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful.
Her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut. “Everything nice I said about you before—I take it back.”
He chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made her thighs clamp together.
“You aren’t as tough as you pretend.” He gave her a hard squeeze. “And I’m not like the other men you’ve dated. When I make a promise, I keep it. Of course being willing to make a commitment that spans continents would have to depend on more than a couple of dates.”
The tension building inside her dissolved. “I’m crushed. A few hours ago you wanted to marry me.”
Laughing, he pulled her down onto her side to bring their faces millimeters apart. “Want to make out?”
“I might die if we don’t,” she whispered.
His lips eased onto hers, and she closed her eyes. Being held felt so good. The comfort of a hard chest and strong arms, the heat and scent of a male body pressed tight against her. His tongue probed, tasting. She whimpered low in her throat and clung, sliding her hands beneath his shirt to stroke the tough skin of his back.
He pulled away a fraction. “No wonder we ended up in bed last time. God, Sam, together we’re tinder on a bonfire.”
“Yeah.” She pressed her forehead against his and breathed deep.
He bit her earlobe and nibbled along her jaw. A jolt of desire slammed through her. Pulling her hands from beneath his shirt, she sunk her fingers into his hair and kissed him back with enthusiasm. Ethan tasted of coffee and man. She pressed tighter against him, feeling the hard length of his desire.
The trilling melody of her cell phone niggled at the edge of awareness. She ignored it. His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her temples. She was burning up.
The ringing stopped—and started again. His voice shook when he spoke. “Do you need to get that?”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Your phone.”
Sam flopped backward onto the blanket. Her hand trembled as she pulled it out of her sweater pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s Juliette. She wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
“Then answer it.”
Pushing the talk button, she held the phone to her ear. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know you’re on a date, but I thought you’d want to know.”
A chill crept over her. “Tell me.”
“Darby was hit by a car. She’s in the hospital.”
Chapter Five
Sam’s whole body shook as she pushed up on one elbow to sit, shoulders hunched. She clutched the phone so hard her knuckles gleamed white in the moonlight.
“Is Darby okay?” Dashing a hand across her cheek, she wiped away tears. “Oh, thank God. You don’t think it has anything to do with…” Her voice trailed off, and her throat worked as she swallowed.
Ethan rested his hand on the back of her neck and rubbed. The tendons strained beneath his fingers, so tight he was amazed they didn’t snap.
“Do you want to drive down tonight?” She leaned against his chest while she listened to her friend’s response. “You’re sure?” Another pause, and a hint of a smile curved her lips. “I think the mood’s shot. I’ll call you in the morning.” She clicked off the phone and stuffed it in her pocket.
“What happened?”
She pressed shaking fingers against her eyes, not answering for a long moment. Finally she turned and looked up at him. “My friend, Darby Kincade, was hit by a car in a crosswalk. She has scrapes and bruises and a mild concussion.”
“I’m sorry, Sam.” He stroked her silky hair. “Darby doesn’t live in Ravenswood, does she? I haven’t seen her around in years.”
“No, she moved to San Francisco after she finished college.”
“Are you driving down tonight?”
“She told Juliette not to. Darby’s mom still lives in town. We’ll talk to her in the morning, see what her plans are.”
“Do you want to head home?”
“If you don’t mind.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with trembling fingers.
“Of course not.” When she rose to her feet, he captured her hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Looking away, she bit her lip. “I’m fine.”
Though she was anything but fine, he didn’t push. Trust obviously didn’t come easy for her. Lips pressed together, he picked up the blanket. He was patient with his dogs. He could be patient with Sam.
They walked back to the pickup and drove over the bumpy track to the main road. The headlight beams speared through the darkness, illuminating a dense wall of trees. Much like the protective barrier around Sam’s heart. He’d chipped away at it before the phone call, but now the wall was firmly back in place if the clenched fists resting in her lap were any indication.
He turned onto her driveway and drove around the imposing three story house that sat vacant for a majority of the year. Sam’s parents shared their time between half a dozen residences. As little as they used it, he was surprised they hadn’t sold the place, but figured they held onto it
for Sam’s sake. Ravenswood was home to her, or as close as she came to having one.
Stopping in front of her cabin—originally the caretaker’s residence—he turned off the engine. When she opened her mouth, he reached over and squeezed her knee. “I’ll walk you to the door. No farther.”
Sam met his gaze for a long moment and then got out of the truck. He hurried around and took her hand. Her skin was smooth and soft, the bones delicate in his grasp. He stopped beneath the porch light and ran his thumb lightly over the back of her hand. Above them, moths fluttered and bumped against the light.
“I’ll call you.”
She nodded. “Thanks for dinner.”
“You bet.” He cupped her face in his palms and looked into her eyes. The passion from earlier was gone. In their emerald depths, uncertainty and worry vied with a more elusive emotion. He kissed her, drinking in her sweetness. When his body hardened, he pulled away.
“I’d ask you in, but…” Her voice was breathless.
He touched her lips with his finger. “Let’s give it some time. I’d rather try to forge a relationship with you than have another one night stand.”
Her eyes gleamed with a hint of moisture. “You’re a good guy, Ethan. Thanks for understanding.”
He stepped back. “I’ll call.”
****
The message light was blinking when Sam walked through the kitchen. Juliette had probably called the house before trying her cell. She ignored the machine and went to the sink. Filling a glass with tepid tap water, she drank slowly. She hadn’t stopped shaking since hearing the news. First finding the body, and now Darby getting hit… She forced out a long, calming breath. It was a hell of a welcome home.
Maybe it was for the best that Juliette had called when she did. The temptation to rip Ethan’s clothes off and do it right there on the lake shore had been great. He was a genuinely nice guy—and hot—a combination that was hard to resist. If he was willing to take things slow, she might be able to let her guard down…at least a little.