A Reunion And A Ring (Proposals & Promises Book 1) (5 page)

When Thad traveled, he called every evening at 6:00 p.m., so reliably that she could set her clock by his ring. It was an arrangement they’d worked out together as a way of managing their equally hectic schedules, making sure they didn’t miss connections. “Their thing,” Thad called it teasingly. He’d phoned at that time yesterday, just as she was trying to get away for the drive here. He hadn’t hidden his concern about her solitary vacation, but he’d added that he hoped she had a relaxing few days and returned ready to make plans for their promising future together.

She’d always appreciated that Thad respected her choices, though sometimes she wondered fleetingly if it was mostly because his own life was so busy that he hardly had time to think about her issues. Still, he went out of his way to find time for their calls, proving he was willing to make compromises in their potential marriage, which was certainly important to her. After all, she and Gavin had broken up partially because neither had been willing to compromise their disparate goals and dreams. Wasn’t that only further evidence that a relationship based on logic and respect was more reliable than one based on passion and emotion?

She refused to answer. She’d been stubbornly resisting the unhappy memories her surprise reunion with Gavin had stirred up, and she certainly wasn’t going to sit here brooding about the past now. She focused more fiercely on her phone. The signal was strong enough to allow her to access her email. There weren’t many to deal with. Amber, her assistant, was taking care of the business for now. She read her text messages and saw a note from her long-time good friend, Stephanie “Stevie” McLane, checking to make sure she’d survived the storms. She typed a confirmation and received an immediate response.

Bored yet?

Jenny smiled wryly.
Hardly
, she typed
.

Thought you’d have your fill of rustic isolation by now.

Not as isolated as I expected
, she returned.

Meaning?

After hesitating for a few moments, Jenny drew a breath and replied,
Gavin Locke is here.

No way!

That was pretty much how she’d expected Stevie to react. She could clearly imagine her friend’s blue eyes rounded with shock. Stevie had been her staunchest supporter after the split with Gavin, though Jenny had always wondered if her friend secretly considered the breakup a mistake.

Her phone beeped to announce another text.
Did you know he’d be there?

Of course not.

Details, girl.

Will call later.
She wanted to make that call only when she was certain Gavin wouldn’t overhear
.

What about Thad?

Jenny frowned as her fingers tapped the screen.
What about him?

Does he know?

Jenny moistened her lips before entering her answer.
Nothing to know. Not like I planned it.

She bit her lip as she read Stevie’s answering text.
How does Gavin look?

He looks...
Jenny gave it a moment’s thought before typing
good
.

Still single?

Far as I know. Call you soon, okay?

You’d better.

“If you’re trying to make a call, you’ll get better service outside.” Gavin nodded toward her phone as he ambled back into the room. “I usually sit on the porch swing for clearer reception.”

Jenny set her phone aside. “Thanks, but I was just texting with Stevie. Do you remember her?”

“Of course. She was your best friend in college.”

“Still is.”

“Did she marry that guy she was dating? The drummer?”

Funny. Jenny had almost forgotten the drummer. She suspected Stevie had, too. “No. They broke up not long after... N
o.”

For some reason, she was reluctant to even refer to her breakup with Gavin.

“She’s still in Little Rock?”

“Yes. She’s dating another musician,” she confided with a faint smile. “A bass player this time.”

When it came to romance, Stevie was nothing if not an optimist. Yet Jenny had been increasingly aware that Stevie hadn’t said much about Jenny’s deepening relationship with Thad. She wasn’t sure why. She’d have thought Stevie would agree that Thad appeared to be Jenny’s ideal Mr. Right. He was handsome, wealthy, successful, socially secure. A junior partner in his family-connected, long-established law firm, Thad was already being courted by political-party bigwigs. He was considering a run for state representative in three years, and had already made a few trips to Washington to meet with some big shots there. Everyone they knew—their families, their friends, their associates—seemed to consider them the perfect couple.

Yet, oddly enough, rather than being as enthusiastic as Jenny might have expected, Stevie had been somewhat restrained in her encouragement for the match. Was Stevie too wrapped up in her own romance, or did she have some doubts about Thad that she wasn’t sharing? Did she question whether Jenny would ever truly be happy in a partnership based on considerations other than what Stevie would consider epic romance?

Sure, Thad was a confirmed workaholic who sometimes became so immersed in his ongoing projects and future goals that he tended to forget about everyone and everything else, but then Jenny had always been
t
ype A herself. She didn’t need a man’s constant attention. She genuinely liked Thad and she enjoyed his company when they found time to be together. She was sure they’d get along quite nicely as they built a satisfying future together. Why shouldn’t that be enough?

Realizing impatiently that she’d allowed her thoughts to wander again, she glanced at her watch. “Should we
eat
something before we go back out? Are you hungry?”

Gavin shook his head. “That next round of rain’s not going to hold off much longer. I’ll try to get some more clearing done while I can.”

She stood and moved toward the cupboards. “I spotted packages of peanut-butter crackers in here. At least eat some of those to protect your stomach from the meds.” She opened a door and motioned toward a top shelf, just above her head. “It was always your favorite snack.”

He moved behind her to reach the carton. The action brought them very close together. All he’d have had to do was lower his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. She’d have moved aside, but the counter was in the way. Any move she made would only brush her against him. Instead, she froze in place, almost holding her breath until he stepped back, the carton in his hand.

“You remember my fondness for these, do you?”

Able to breathe again now that there was a bit more distance between them, she laughed softly, grateful it came out relatively steady. “How could I forget? You stashed them in your car, in your backpack, in your dorm room, in my dorm room. Your friends used to joke that you should buy stock in a cracker company. I’m just a little surprised you haven’t gotten tired of them by now.”

His mouth quirked into a faint smile as he shrugged. “I don’t eat them as much as I used to, but they’re still a pretty good snack.”

She watched him rip into a cellophane packet, her smile feeling more natural as an amusing memory occurred to her. “Remember when your sister’s little white poodle tore into a whole carton while we were outside watching July Fourth fireworks at your parents’ house? We came back inside to find paper and cellophane and crumbs everywhere and the poor dog had peanut butter smeared all over her face. Holly got hysterical thinking her pet was going to die, but fortunately the dog got more in her fur than her belly.”

Gavin chuckled wryly. “Mom insisted on rushing the dog to an emergency animal clinic, just in case. We were going to have homemade ice cream after watching the fireworks, but it had all melted by the time the crisis was over.
You know, that
dog lived to be fifteen. Just died a couple years ago.”

“What was its name again? I can’t remember.”

Gavin made a face. “BiBi. I can’t forget because it ran off from Mom’s house one day when she was dog-sitting while Holly was out of town, just before Christmas. Mom called me in tears. I had to drive slowly around her neighborhood in my cruiser, calling the stupid name from my open window. ‘Here, BiBi. C’mere, BiBi.’ I felt like an idiot. It was sleeting. Took me an hour to find the half-frozen mutt, and then it had the nerve to pee on me when I picked it up.”

She couldn’t help laughing. He’d have hated every minute of that episode—but for his mother and sister, he’d have done it with only token grumbles. “That is too funny.”

“Glad you think so,” he muttered, though his lips twitched.

For a moment, she was swept back again to the early days of their romance, which had been filled with laughter. Her smile faded as she returned abruptly to the present. Leaning casually against the counter, Gavin gazed down at her, his eyes gleaming in the shadowy light. She felt the hairs on her arms rise, as if the air between them charged suddenly with static. She really needed to stop those mental flashbacks before they got entirely out of control.

Did Gavin sense the change, as well? His eyes narrowed, and even the hint of amusement vanished, leaving his face carved again into hard, inscrutable lines.

He grabbed a couple more packets of crackers and turned away. “I’m going back out. Rest awhile, if you want
. I can handle things out there.”

She released a long, unsteady breath when the front door closed behind him. Wow, that had turned quickly. She’d just been reminded all too vividly of how quickly the laughter in their youthful relationship had dissolved into tears. She was annoyed to realize the memories could still sting, even after all these years, even after she’d long since assured herself she was over it.

She was tempted to stay safely inside while he continued the cleanup. Because that made her feel cowardly, she lifted her chin and refused to give in to the impulse. She reached for her borrowed work gloves and headed for the door. The sooner the road was cleared, the sooner this blast from the past would be over.

Chapter Three

A
lmost an hour later, most of the branches were off the tree trunk and dragged to the side of the road. Jenny felt her muscles protesting the hard labor, and she suspected she would be sore tomorrow. She kept a close watch on Gavin, noting his face grew tighter as their work progressed. He was obviously favoring his right arm, certainly making an effort not to exacerbate the injury, but she could tell he was hurting and that he was overdoing it regardless. Yet, he’d tried to assure her he could handle this on his own. Right.

They were both panting after dragging and shoving yet another limb into the now-full ditch. Jenny wasn’t sure if the moisture on her face was due more to perspiration or the mist that was beginning to fall more heavily now, making the ground slick beneath her sneakers. She slid on a patch of leaves, did a little flailing dance, then planted her heels firmly in the dirt to anchor herself. Gavin applauded, his sawdust-covered gloves thudding dully together. She smiled and bobbed a careful bow in his direction. His long slash of dimples appeared briefly, then vanished when he turned back to the tree.

“Now what?” she asked, motioning toward the huge trunk still completely blocking the narrow gravel road.

“Now that the trunk is light enough not to yank the bumper off my truck—I hope—I’m going to try to hook a chain to it and pull it out of the way, at least enough for us to get around it. Once I can drive past it, I’ll go down and check the flooding at the foot of the hill. As long as the rain holds off a while longer, maybe we...”

The sky opened. It was the only way to describe the way rain dumped suddenly onto them, as if someone had turned on a showerhead full blast above them. Gavin snatched up the chain saw and followed Jenny’s mad dash to the covered porch, but both of them were soaked by the time they ducked under the overhang.

“Are you
kidding
me?” She shoved her sodden bangs out of her eyes, shaking her head in dismay. “Could this weather get any crazier?”

Gavin ran a hand through his wet, shaggy hair, spraying raindrops around his feet. “It’s spring in Arkansas. Crazy weather is pretty much expected this time of year. They’ve been predicting these storms for a couple weeks now.”

“I know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just hoped the worst forecasts would be wrong. They often are, you know.”

He leaned back against the wall of the cabin, gazing out at the downpour without answering. An occasional windblown gust of rain blew in at them, but they were already so wet it didn’t seem to matter. Actually, the wet breeze felt rather good after the sweaty work. She settled into a damp rocker and watched a rivulet of water slide down a porch post.

His gaze focused intently on the falling rain, Gavin spoke quietly. “You’re not getting much of your paperwork done today. Didn’t you say that’s why you came?”

She shrugged. Once again, she had a perfect opening to tell Gavin exactly why she’d needed some time to herself, but once again, she decided to let the opportunity pass. She told herself it would just be too awkward to discuss Thad with Gavin, especially considering she hadn’t even given Thad an answer to his proposal yet. “I’ll find some time later, once I get off this hill.”

“You make a habit of taking off on your own like this to work?”

That made her laugh, though without much humor. “This is the first weekend I’ve not spent at my office in longer than I can remember. And I very rarely have time just to myself. This trip was an aberration in almost every way—and wouldn’t you know, it would turn out to be a disaster.”

“Sorry you were disappointed.”

Realizing she might have sounded a bit ungracious, she shrugged. “You had no control over the weather. And the booking mix-up wasn’t your fault, either. Just all-around bad luck.”

Because that didn’t sound much better, she added, “I mean, it’s very nice seeing you again, it’s just...”

“Jenny.” His tone was dry, and she figured he must find her sudden discomfiture amusing. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt my tender feelings. And it’s nice to see you again, too. Sort of.”

Because she understood exactly what he meant by that, she gave him a quick, wry smile. “Yeah. Sort of.”

He didn’t return the smile. “Always figured we’d run into each other again someday, both still living in the area and all. I’m kind of surprised it took so long. Guess we hang in different circles these days.”

She was determined to act as nonchalant as he appeared to be. “It’s funny that we reconnected here, three hours from where we live.”

“Not so strange, I guess, since I own the cabin and you were looking for a secluded place. Maybe the fact that you remembered it so well is a little odd.”

“I hadn’t thought about it in years,” she assured him quickly. “My assistant unintentionally reminded me of it when I jokingly said that I needed to crawl into a cave or something for a few days to think and get organized and she said maybe I should find a nice, secluded mountain cabin. This place popped into my head and I did an impulsive internet search and...well, here we are.”

“Here we are.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap. “It’s nice that we can be...”
Friends
didn’t seem to be quite the right word. She quickly substituted, “
C
ivil.”

“Why wouldn’t we be civil? We dated as kids. We went our own ways. It’s been—what, a decade or so? Life’s gone on, for both of us.”

It had been ten years and two months since they broke up. Not that there was any reason to get that specific, but she couldn’t help wondering if he, too, remembered the exact date. Still, as he said, they’d been very young. A lot had happened since for her, and certainly for him, too. She was in a relationship, and for all she knew, he could be, too. Neither had been pining for the other all these years. There was no reason at all they couldn’t be...well, friendly. She couldn’t see them hanging out as buddies. Not because of any difference in social status, but because she suspected there would always be undercurrents between them that made their interactions too potentially volatile.

As if to reinforce that thought, Gavin pushed away from the wall with a bit more force than necessary. “I’ll be right back.”

Jenny was torn between enjoying the sound of the rainfall on the porch roof and being impatient for the rain to end so they could get back to clearing the road. She glanced behind her. Gavin had left the door ajar, probably to allow fresh air into the stuffy rooms. It was quiet inside the dim cabin. She didn’t hear him moving around at all.

Curious, she stood and walked inside, leaving her muddy shoes on the doorstep beside his boots. She had just moved farther into the room when she heard a heavy thud and a heated curse from Gavin’s bedroom.

Tentatively, she headed that way. “Gavin? Are you all right?”

His bedroom door was open. Shirtless, he stood in front of the dresser mirror, an open first aid kit in front of him, the bandage on his shoulder hanging crookedly. A plastic bottle of isopropyl alcohol lay on the wood floor beside his feet; fortunately, the lid was still on so it hadn’t spilled.

“Do you want some help changing that bandage?” she asked, deliberately offhanded. “I’m sure it’s a little hard to do with your left hand.”

“I’ve managed before. Just knocked the bottle off the dresser with my elbow. I usually change the bandage in the bathroom, but the light’s somewhat better in here.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t do it yourself. I said I’m here to give you a hand, if you’d like. If you’d rather handle it yourself, fine.”

After only a momentary hesitation, he nodded. “It would be faster if you help. Uh, thanks.”

Because she knew what it probably cost him to accept assistance from her—from anyone, really, being such a fiercely independent sort—she wasn’t bothered by his somewhat less than gracious acceptance. “Maybe you should sit down so I can reach it better. Does it need to be cleaned? Should I bring a washcloth?”

“It’s not dirty. The bandage was wet and uncomfortable, so I thought I should swap it for a dry one.”

“Makes sense.” She reached for the half-removed bandage and eased it away from his injury.
With an effort s
he kept her expression impassive when she saw the jagged, six-inch row of close-set stitches that marched across his shoulder. The skin around the threads was puckered, but the redness didn’t seem to be spreading and his shoulder wasn’t hot to her touch, so the meds must be working.

“Are you supposed to put antibiotic ointment on the stitches?”

Sitting on the end of the bed, he nodded toward a tube on the dresser. “Just a little. Only reason I wear the bandage is to keep my shirt from rubbing the stitches.”

Using a square of gauze, she dabbed ointment lightly over the wound. Their heads were so close she felt his warm breath on her cheek.

Did he lift weights these days? When she’d known him before, he’d been slender and athletic, but the muscles in his arms and chest hadn’t been quite as well-defined. He was definitely a man in peak condition despite the injury. And if her fingers lingered for a moment on a taut bicep—well, that could be attributed to incidental contact while she prepared the area for the new bandage.

The shadowed room was silent except for the soft splash of rain on the windows. She was all too aware of the rumpled bed, the masculine clutter of clothes and toiletries, the mounting warmth in the air. She felt a need to fill the quiet, though she would try not to slip into nervous prattling. “You said you had surgery on your shoulder? Did you tear a ligament or something?”

“Something like that.”

The very blandness of his nonreply made her hands go still. In a flash, she was taken back to her childhood, watching her mom patch up the latest injury her dad had acquired in one of his reckless stunts, either on the job or off. Just as it had when she was an anxious child, her stomach knotted painfully.

“You weren’t, um, shot, were you?” she asked, voicing the worst nightmare that had haunted her when Gavin announced his determination to don a badge.

“I wasn’t shot.”

And that was all he was going to tell her. He couldn’t have made it clear
er
if he’d said it outright.

Taking the less-than-subtle hint, she bit her lip and finished applying the bandage without speaking again. She smoothed tape over the clean gauze, taking her time to make sure the edges were well sealed. Her hand still resting on his shoulder, she glanced at his face to make sure she wasn’t hurting him, only to find him looking gravely back at her. For a fleeting moment, she saw in his eyes a hint of the Gavin she’d once known—younger, more open, less hardened by his job and experiences.

Her breath caught hard in her throat as more memories crashed through her mind in a kaleidoscope of broken images. Hungry kisses. Heated caresses. Nights of passion more overwhelming than anything she’d experienced before. Or since, for that matter. Which was totally understandable, right? Wasn’t it supposed to be that way when a woman’s thoughts drifted back to her first love?

The shadows seemed to deepen in the room around them, enclosing them in a cozy corner of soft light spilling in through the single window. Her gaze lowered slowly, pausing on his mouth. His lips looked so stern and firm, yet she remembered them as warm and eager. If she allowed herself, she suspected she could still recall their taste. It was probably—definitely—best if she kept that memory locked away along with all the others.

His voice was rough when he broke the silence. “That should do it.”

“What? Oh.” Realizing he referred to the bandage, she dropped her hand and stepped quickly back. “Yes, that should hold.”

“Jenny
...
”

A heavy pounding on the front door made them both start and turn in that direction. Jenny heard someone shouting, a muffled male voice calling Gavin’s name. They hadn’t locked the front door. She heard it open, heard the voice more clearly. “Gavin? Hey, buddy, you in here? You okay?”

“Rob.” Shaking his head, Gavin pushed himself to his feet and called out, “I’m here. Hang on.”

Snatching up
a dry
T-shirt, he moved toward the bedroom door without looking back at Jenny. She followed quickly. It occurred to her that if someone had made it up the road to the cabin, that meant she could now drive down. It was probably only because she was so tired that she wasn’t more excited by that realization.

* * *

Rob Lopez peered around the cabin door, squinting into the shadows as he called out again. “Hey, Gav? Are you—
O
h, there you are.”

Pulling
the
T-shirt over his head, Gavin moved to greet his friend. He was surprised to see him there. His pals had a standing invitation to join him whenever he was using the cabin, but usually they called before showing up. “Hey, Rob. What are you doing here? How’d you get past the flood and the downed tree?”

Rob opened the door all the way, shaking water out of his curly dark hair like a wet labradoodle as he stood just outside on the porch. “I won’t come in—my boots are too muddy. We drove up in J.T.’s off-road rig. Nearly floated it at the bottom of the hill. You have two trees uprooted, by the way. There’s another a quarter mile down the road. I left the other guys working down there, and I hiked up to let you know we’re here—in the rain, I might add, though it’s almost stopped now, at least for a little while. You’re going to owe me for this one.”

“Other guys?”

“Yeah. J.T. and
— O
h. Hello.” Rob was looking over Gavin’s shoulder and it wasn’t hard to guess what, or rather who, had brought the look of surprised speculation to his face.

Belatedly realizing that donning his shirt as he’d entered Rob’s field of vision might have given
him
the wrong idea about what he and Jenny
had
been doing in the bedroom, Gavin cleared his throat. “Rob Lopez, this is Jenny Baer. Jenny and I knew each other back in college. Long story, but Lizzie at the leasing office screwed up and rented the cabin to Jenny for the weekend. Jenny didn’t expect to find me here when she arrived in the middle of the storm last night.”