See Jane Fall (27 page)

Lars glanced at her moving sexily in the
seat beside him to the loud, demanding song. It was absurd to even
compare this ride with any of the drives he’d taken with Jane,
who’d softly sung along to beautiful love songs beside him. Damn,
he missed Jane. He needed to get to her and answer her questions.
It was the perfect opening to try to get her to stick around this
weekend.

The song ended after three or four minutes
and Samara yelled, “YES!” fanning her face and turning to Lars,
“Water! I need water!”

“Um, I think the rest of the water went in
the craft truck at the end of today.”

“Well, that’s
not
so helpful, is it?”
She fanned herself, annoyed. “So, I guess you’ll have to stop for
water somewhere.”

Stop for water?
“We’re in the middle
of the park. There’s nowhere to stop. There’s nothing between here
and Gardiner. But, we’ll be at your place in thirty minutes or
so…”

“Seriously? I’m
thirsty
!” she whined,
sighing strenuously. “
Fucking
Jane. This is
her
fucking fault.”

“Whoa…pardon?” Lars wasn’t accustomed to
women using that sort of language; he had no recollection of his
mother or sister ever using the f-word. He remembered his
conversation with Maggie when she’d insisted Samara’s language had
been, er,
spirited
. She’d been right. It occurred to Lars
that Maggie had probably been right about everything and he owed
her an apology.

“Jane. Jane, my cousin. Short, plain,
grouchy, dumpy…ringing a bell? If she were here I’d have some
goddamn water. Instead, she’s being all…” Samara lowered her voice
cartoonishly, mimicking Jane’s raspy tone, “I’m not coming to
Jackson Hole. I’m taking a vacation.”

Lars was about to say something on Jane’s
behalf when Samara’s words registered. He whipped his head to face
her. “
What
?”

“Yeah! Do you think Pink’s assistant takes a
fucking vacation when she’s needed? I doubt it. But, you hire
family, you get screwed.”

He told his brain to ignore her language and
focus on her meaning.

“So…Jane’s not going with you.”

“No, and good riddance. We’ll have a much
better time without her.” He glanced at her and she lowered her
eyes, licking her lips. “Can’t wait to get you stripped down on
that bed…I am going to ride you, cowboy, like…”

Lars didn’t hear anything else she said,
although he was careful not to show Samara how pleased he was by
the news that Jane would be in town all weekend while she was away.
He occasionally nodded in response to the colorful picture she was
painting of them in bed together.

His heart started beating faster, but he
ordered his lips not to turn up in a smile.
Jane was
staying.
She’d be here all weekend.
He was ridiculously
happy to hear—

“Whoa!” He was so distracted by his
thoughts, he didn’t hear whatever led up to Samara’s hand in his
lap, firmly grasping at his crotch, boldly massaging him through
his jeans. “Hey!”

He looked down, jerking her hand out of his
lap, trying to keep the car on the road with one hand on the wheel.
The car shimmied into oncoming traffic, and Lars looked up just in
time to slide back onto his side and avoid an oncoming collision
with a car that let out a long, annoyed
beeeeep
as it passed
by.

He pulled over to the side of the road,
cutting the engine and turning to Samara.

Now, Lars liked women. He liked all kinds of
women and had a good amount of success in romancing them. But,
overtly forward women were not high on his list of favorite types
of women; he was old-fashioned that way. He liked to be the one to
make the first move. Hell, he didn’t even mind having to
win
over
a girl he liked. But, a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend
reaching over while he was driving to grab his junk? That was just
a little too much for him.

She was staring at him, her lips lightly
parted in surprise. And man, Samara’s eyes were stunningly pretty,
with long, inky lashes. He had never seen such perfect eyes. She
stared at Lars, confused.

“Umm, have I missed something here? I’m
throwing
myself at you, and honey, I don’t usually have to
work this hard. Are you
gay
or something?”

“I’m not gay. I’m not used
to…
this
.”

“Oh, is that all? You’re such a country boy.
There’s nothing wrong with…
this
.
This
is gonna feel
really
good.”

Her hand reached for his lap again but he
grabbed her wrist, holding her hand still mid-way to its
destination.

“Samara. Stop.”

She snatched her hand back, eyes narrowed, a
sneer on her pretty mouth.

“Do you not want this?”

Lars swallowed. The simple answer was:
No, I don’t. I want your cousin.
But, he couldn’t say that
to her. She’d have him fired, his father’s company would lose the
revenue from the job, and his chances at Lindstrom Elite or a third
share in Lindstrom & Sons would be up in smoke.

“Samara. Don’t be crazy. Any man would want
to be with you. Would be
lucky
to be with you.”

She stared at him for a moment before
exhaling loudly.

“Then what is the problem?” She spoke
deliberately, separating and enunciating her words.

He was at a total loss. He couldn’t reject
her, but there was no way he was fooling around with her again. He
needed a reason…a good reason…

“I have a condition…um, a rash,” he blurted
out.
What? What are you saying? What are you doing?
“Down
there.”

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah. A rash.” He cringed. “It’s uh…red and
bumpy and…I want you
so
much, but I think I should let
it…um, clear up first.”

“You have a
rash
. On your…” She sort
of gestured to his lap.

He cringed, breathing in through his teeth.
“Uh-huh. Yeah. It’s not pretty.”

She looked at him, her nose curled up in
disgust, as if she’d seen something distasteful. She looked at the
hand that had been groping his lap, and wiped it on her jeans. “Is
it…contagious?”

“No. No, no. I have…um, medicine for
it.”

“When’s it going to be better?”

“Oh, doctor said it’s not serious. A few
days.”

“Oh.”

“I was, um…hoping it would clear up in time,
you know, to join you. That’s why I didn’t, um, you know, give you
an answer about this weekend. But, I think it’s probably best if
you go without me.”

Samara shrugged, but Lars saw a little color
in her cheeks. He didn’t know if she was buying his lies or not,
and likely, she wasn’t used to being rebuffed. At all. Ever. She
sat up straighter, pushing her breasts forward. And, yes, he
checked them out. He had never seen such perfect breasts. “You’re
turning this down?”

“Only ’cause I have to, you know, for
your
sake.”

She tapped one fingertip against her lips,
staring at him. It was a slim, tapered finger, with a red
fingernail so slick and shiny and beautiful, it looked wet. He had
never seen such a perfect finger.

No part of Lars’s body reacted to these
perfect eyes, breasts and fingers, and he realized with unambiguous
clarity that in addition to having no interest in Samara
romantically, he didn’t want to sleep with her now or ever, and to
avoid doing so, he was willing to make up a pretty outlandish—and,
let’s face it, a little embarrassing—personal reason to get out of
it. He’d certainly been attracted to her for a day or two,
flattered by the attention she paid him, blinded by her stunning
good looks. But, she was also an immature, foul-mouthed, demanding,
pouting brat, whose mouth tasted like stale cigarettes
. No
thanks.

Not that he needed a reminder of how Jane
made him feel, but he got one last night when he drove Jane home
and again today as she walked over to talk to him by his truck; he
could barely think straight when Jane was around, he wanted her so
much. He didn’t want Samara Amaya. He wanted someone else. And, as
it turned out, he was about to have a whole weekend of open road
with that someone else. Damn skippy he was going to make the most
of it.

Samara took a deep breath and sighed, taking
her phone out. “Maybe I should tell
Trend
to find a
more…
willing
tour operator. I like shoots to be fun. I don’t
think this is working for me. I don’t think
you’re
working
out.”

Wow.
Was she
threatening
him?
Terrific. With all the charm and composure he could muster, he
smiled at her.

“No need for that. I can’t come to Jackson
Hole but I’m sure things will be…
cleared up
soon. You’ll be
back on Sunday, right? How about another rain check instead,
Beautiful?”

She was fumbling with her phone, her thumbs
moving, ignoring him. He heard it ding like she was sending
messages. For all he knew, she was texting the
Trend
folks
to axe the Lindstroms from this job. Screwing up his own personal
career was one thing; affecting his family’s was another matter
entirely. He had to buy time. He had to figure out a way to just
keep her happy until Monday. He’d still have the weekend with Jane,
he’d still get his promotion, and by Monday she’d be gone.

“Samara,” he said, as low and sexy as he
could muster for her, reaching out to put his hand on her thigh,
“You and me on Sunday night.”

She turned to him slowly, a cat-like smile
making her pretty face mysterious and dangerous at once. “You
promise, Lars? A night to remember?”

“I promise a night you’ll never forget.”

“I like the way you’re touching me right
now, Lars.”

“Tip of the iceberg.”

“What will you do to me, Lars?” She purred,
moving his hand up her leg until it touched her jeans at the
juncture of her thighs.

“Whatever you want,” he answered, holding
her eyes and grinning. He winked at her and took a deep breath,
wishing he could move his hand away.

“You can always use your tongue, Lars…if
other things are…out of order. No getting out of it.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He felt sick to his stomach even hearing the
words coming out of his mouth. He thought of Jane, of how terribly
he needed this weekend alone with her. He knew he could turn things
around if he just had this time with her. And while he also knew
that promising Samara anything was fundamentally a bad idea, bad
ideas were all he was coming up with in a pinch, and he’d re-think
it and figure it out later. For now he needed Samara to go, Jane to
stay and Lindstrom & Sons to keep this job. Making promises to
Samara was the only way to get all three.

“Deal, Lars,” she agreed, her voice silky
and firm.

“Deal, Samara,” he winked at her, gratefully
moving his hand back to the steering wheel, keeping his face
impassive while he wondered if he’d just made a deal with the
devil.

He turned the key in the ignition but
nothing happened other than that grating, crunching sound. He
turned it again and again, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

No, no, no, not now!

He glanced at Samara, who raised her
eyebrows at him.

“Sometimes it’s temperamental. We’ll give it
a moment,” he said, but when he turned the key again, he didn’t
even get the grating sound. Nothing. Nada. It was dead, and he
banged on the steering wheel, angry and frustrated, because it
meant three things:

One? He’d have to flag down a car to get
them back to Gardiner because his phone didn’t have a signal this
deep in the park.

Two? He’d have a very thirsty, very unhappy
Samara on his hands for a little while, and he really wasn’t
excited for that, nor how unprofessional it looked for them to be
stranded in Yellowstone.

Three? He’d need to come back for the truck
and get it towed back into Gardiner. His shoulders slumped. He
wouldn’t get to Jane for hours.

***

A long, hot shower and a change of clothes
had helped…a little. Jane still felt crushed by Lars hooking up
with Sara, and his decision to accompany her to Jackson Hole, but
after processing the initial surprise, it would have been
disingenuous to claim total shock. She had felt sure from the
beginning that Lars would eventually choose Sara over her. It had
just taken a little longer than Jane had anticipated and in those
extra days, recalling his sweetness, a fragile hope had taken root
in her heart.

She walked along Main Street in Gardiner
toward the Prairie Dawn, feeling the heaviness in her heart.
At
least I have a quiet weekend to get over him. I’ll be fine when he
returns with her on Sunday.

Or would she?

Jane had to admit that of all the men she
had met in her adult life, Lars had certainly seemed different.
Casually unaware of his own good looks, loving the same outdated
music she did, quick with playful banter, making her fingers and
toes curl with how good it felt to have his lips on hers.

I admit it. I thought there might be a
chance with him. I thought he might be the exception. I
wanted
him to be the exception.

The pain of admitting her own failed hopes
made her eyes threaten to tear up again. The pathetic reality was
that Jane Mays was such a terribly lonely person to be. No parents,
no real family except for a quasi-loving, overly demanding uncle
who prioritized Sara’s needs over Jane’s. Her only friends were
Sara’s personal staff; her life was a series of work-related
appointments and interactions with people who wouldn’t care less
about her if she wasn’t attached to her cousin’s name.

The ache of her loneliness swept over her,
and she took a deep, shaky breath, unable to find a cheerful
thought to assuage the pain of Lars’s rejection.

Oh, Jane,
she thought with some
surprise and regret and huge amounts of sympathy for the pathetic
realization she was having.
Did you think you could be like
Maggie’s aunt? Come to a strange, new place, find real love and
start a new life? Did you think that could happen for you?