Chance Encounter (8 page)

“I also showed you how to do it without killing yourself,” Chance said. “Do you remember that part?”

“Yes. But—”

“No buts. Takes practice to be better than good.”

“You said I was.”

“Compared to any other fourteen-year-old, you are. You know that. Be different. Get
better
than good. And get to school. Only idiots ditch.”

“Don’t need school to be a pro boarder. Or a biker. Don’t need school for any of that.”

“Wrong,” Chance said firmly, looking ticked. “Trust me on this one, you gotta finish high school to become a professional anything.”

“Who says?”

“
I
say.”

Brian shrugged and amazingly enough, headed toward the parking lot instead of back on the trail.

Chance shot Ally one last undecipherable look before he walked away.

“You’re not going to your office?” she asked his back.

He shrugged, mirroring Brian’s attitude, and kept walking.

With no idea why, she followed him, though she had to run to keep up with his long-legged stride. “What’s your problem?”

“What makes you think I have one?”

“Because you won’t even look at me.”

He stopped so short she nearly plowed into the back of him. Her hands came up automatically, sliding over the sleek, taut muscles of his back. She snatched them back.

“I’m looking at you now,” he said, turning to face her.

He was…
hurt,
she realized with shock, when she was the one who should be hurt. “But why are you looking at me like
that?
”

“Drop it.”

In her not-too-distant past she might have meekly let it go, but she was no longer a mouse. She was big, bad, strong Ally who did as she pleased, when she pleased. “Tell me.”

Temper flashed in his eyes. “I saw you, Ally. I heard your thoughts as if you’d screamed them. You actually thought I would let Brian do whatever the hell he wanted. Ride recklessly, ditch school, whatever. You seem to have this preconceived notion of me and how I live my life, and I don’t like it.”

“At least you have to admit, you live up to it.”

He stepped close. “There you go again, assuming you know me.”

Refusing to back up, Ally kept her eyes on his. “Then help me know you, Chance.”

Lifting his hands, he shoved his fingers through his hair. The muscles in his arms were taut and strained. “This lifestyle is not for everyone. It’s…dangerous.”

“Are you trying to scare me off? Is that your new
tactic to discourage me?” She laughed. “I’m not very frightened.”

“You should be,” he growled. “This kind of life can cost you big.”

There was something more than temper in his gaze now, but even as she watched him back away from her, all emotion—and
pain?
—vanished behind hooded, watchful eyes. Her stomach knotted, because this man, this brooding, edgy, dangerous man, drew her as no other ever had, and despite everything, she wanted to know him. “How can it cost, Chance? What has it cost you?”

“A friend.” He paused and his voice lowered a fraction. “A close friend.”

“What happened?”

“She underestimated the elements and it cost her everything. Her life,” he said flatly.

She.
Ally’s stomach knotted again.

“I know you think I’m wild and out of control, but I have more control than you’ll ever know. If I didn’t, I’d have had you by now—and circumstances be damned.”

She actually had to lick her lips and clear her throat to talk. “Circumstances?”

“Yeah.” His eyes went hard. “You’re leaving, remember?” Then he turned and walked away before she could tell him she wasn’t going anywhere.

Not yet.

C
HANCE HAD KNOWN
she’d leave eventually. All along, it’d been what he’d wanted.

So why did he feel so empty?

“What’s your problem?” Jo asked, when he’d been sitting at his desk, brooding, staring out the window for thirty minutes.

“Nothing. Where’s Ally?”

“Ah.” She let out a secret smile.

“What the hell kind of answer is that?”

She just grinned. “Why do you want to know where she is?”

To wring her neck.
“Why do you keep answering my questions with more questions?”

“It amuses me.”

“I need her,” he said tightly. “We have work to go over.”

“Uh-huh. Hard to do that with your lips locked.” And at the look on Chance’s face, she roared with laughter. “Well,
you’re
the one thinking it, not me.” Having pity she patted his arm. “And you ought to know, I didn’t figure this one out entirely by myself. Brian helped. You’ve got the ‘hots for her,’ I think he said.”

He let out an expletive.

She laughed at him some more. “Try rentals. Oh, and you might want to hurry.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

C
HANCE DID INDEED
find Ally in rentals, arranging to rent a kayak for the rest of the afternoon.
“What are you doing?”

She fumbled with the helmet she’d thankfully put
on correctly, blew the hair out of her face and didn’t answer him. When she hoisted the kayak and went outside, he followed, amazed at her strength. Her bare arms were tanned and toned with muscle. So were her legs. Gone was the fragile, vulnerable woman he always imagined her to be.

When exactly had
that
happened?

“Ally, I asked you a question.”

“Go back to your cave, Chance.”

He took the kayak from her and put it on the ground. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I know what I’m doing. Tim’s been giving me lessons all week.”

He stared at her, wondering when his world had turned into a
Twilight Zone
remake. “I told you to stay out of the river.”

“And I told you I don’t take demands well.”

“I thought you were leaving, going back for your sister’s party.”

“You thought wrong.” Her eyes were completely void of temper now. “Look, I know you think I’m speaking in tongues when I say this, but I want to be a
real
manager. I’m
trying
to be a
real
manager. And despite the fact that we’ll never get along the way I want to, I’m smart enough to know you’re the best person to teach me.”

Well damn if that didn’t both defuse his temper and humble him to the bone. Unable to help himself, he lifted a hand to her face, using his fingers to tuck her hair better into the helmet. At the feel of her smooth, soft, precious skin, he felt that now familiar ache from
deep within him. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Nor kissing her, apparently, because he leaned in, cupped her jaw in his hand and put his mouth against hers.

She kissed him back, slipping her fingers into his hair at his nape, drawing him closer, deeper, and when she made a sound of pleasure and desire mixed in one, he was lost. He might have stayed that way forever, locked in her arms, if the smell of smoke hadn’t finally penetrated his swamped senses.

Smoke.

He looked up and his heart nearly leaped right out of his chest. Above them, the summit once again raged with flames.

W
ITHIN AN HOUR
they had ground support, air support, and more of both on the way for the flare-up. There were firefighters on the backside of the mountain, digging their way through a firebreak, and more on the west and east side, attempting to gain quick control this time.

Ally watched Chance quickly and methodically make sure every guest and employee was safe and accounted for. She witnessed his anguish, his fear, and felt it as her own.

“All staff members on duty are on the radio,” Ally told him as she caught up with him in his office. “They’re just waiting for directions.”

“The only direction is to stay the hell out of danger and let the firefighters do their thing.” He shouldered his backpack, checked his radio and headed toward the door.

He was going up there, she realized with a shock. She grabbed his arm. “What happened to staying out of harm’s way?”

“I’m going to see what’s going on.”

“No!”

A pained look crossed his strong features. “Ally, standing down here, over a mile away, torturing my
self with what’s happening to the land,
again,
is killing me.” Abruptly, he shrugged her off. “I’ll radio you with whatever news I get.”

“No! Stay here, stay where it’s—”

“Safe?” He whirled on her, eyes hot and fierce, jaw tense. “Not if there’s anything I can do to help.” Then, shocking her further, he kissed her, hard, and on impulse, she clung to him.

For just a moment, he clung back.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

Without another word, he vanished out the door.

A
LLY’S HEART REMAINED
firmly in her throat, until the fire was fully contained and everyone was safe and accounted for.

Including Chance.

By midnight, things were finally quiet again. That was the good news, but there was bad as well. The fire chief didn’t think the fire was a flare-up of the old one, which meant it could either be the unusual heat wave or arson, and they’d be looking for answers come daylight.

Just the thought had Ally burning with fear and fury. It wasn’t Brian, she knew that much. She’d witnessed his joy in this place. It had become his home. He wouldn’t hurt it.

She turned off her office light, intending to go to her cabin and collapse in bed, but a light down the darkened hall drew her.

Chance.

All thoughts of sleep vanished, replaced by images
of comforting him, holding him close, somehow making him accept the fact that for once,
she
could help
him.
Even if that help came only in the form of comfort.

She was just outside his office door before she heard his low, quiet voice say, “Yes, everyone’s safe.”

“And Ally,” came Lucy’s voice from the speakerphone on his desk. “How’s my Ally?”

Chance was leaning on his desk, arms crossed, staring out the windows into the dark night. Every inch of his body looked tense and taut as steel. As if he sensed her, he turned to the door. Their gazes met and locked. “Ally’s okay,” he said, staring at her. Absorbing her.

“And you?” Lucy asked, blissfully unaware of the tension now shimmering in the room. “I know you too damn well, Chance. You’ll be the one out there where it’s not safe.”

Chance didn’t break eye contact with Ally. “I’ll be fine. I have to go, but I’ll call you first thing in the morning, okay?”

“Fine. But Chance?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, as if you were my own son. I just wanted you to know that.”

C
HANCE TURNED AWAY
from the window and grabbed the phone. With his throat suddenly tight, so tight he could barely speak much less breathe, he was eternally grateful for the dark room.

“Say it,” Lucy said in his ear. “You don’t have to tell
me you love me back, just say you know
I
love
you,
and that you believe it.”

His eyes burned, and it wasn’t from inhaling smoke for hours. “Lucy.”

Her voice softened. “Hon, I know damn well you’ve never let your own family close enough to tell you how they feel, so let
me
tell you tonight of all nights, when things are as bad as they can get. Everyone needs that, needs to know they’re loved.”

He hadn’t ever believed that, until now, but he couldn’t speak past the football-size lump in his throat. He was painfully aware of Ally watching him.

“Chance? I’m going to keep telling you, do you hear me?”

“Hard to miss it,” he managed gruffly. “You’re shouting.”

Although he knew Ally could no longer hear Lucy’s side of the conversation, he saw her smile. It was a bit ragged, as was she from the night’s events, and more than anything, he wanted to hold her. “I’ve really got to go.”

“Okay, you don’t want to talk mushy, I understand. But I meant what I said.” Lucy’s voice was full of warmth and affection. “Goodnight, Chance.”

“Goodnight…and Lucy?” He waited until the last possible second to say it. “I love you, too.”

He hung up and stared at the phone for a long moment before lifting his head. Ally was still there, silhouetted in the dark, open doorway. She was filthy, smelled like smoke, was pale as a ghost, and she’d never looked more beautiful to him. He wanted her,
probably more than he’d ever wanted anyone, but that wasn’t what scared him now, as he’d felt that need before, with other women. It was how badly he wanted to bury his face in her hair, wanted
her
to hold
him,
while together they rode out this terrible, haunting sense of…aloneness.

That was entirely new.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft and somehow comforting in the dark.

“You should be in bed.” Another image he didn’t need, her in a bed, all tangled in the silky sheets, hair spread over the pillow, lips soft and inviting…

“I’m going soon.”

Good. Great. He’d be picturing that for the rest of the night. “Tired of the big, bad wilderness yet?”

“I miss the city,” she admitted. “But I’m not tired of Wyoming.”

Which wouldn’t hold her here. He knew that.

“And to be honest…”

No, don’t be honest,
he wanted to say.
Don’t open up to me. Don’t make me care any more than I already do.

“In the month before I came…” Her eyes flickered with embarrassment. “I managed to mess things up. I…lost my job when they accused me of stealing.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“No,” she agreed softly. “I wouldn’t. But Thomas didn’t have such qualms, and—”

“Thomas?”

“My very ex-boyfriend. He stole some classics and let me take the blame. Luckily he’s the one that ended up in prison.”

Chance was surprised at the hot white surge of fury that caused within him. “Doesn’t sound like a good enough punishment to me.”

To his surprise, she laughed. “It worked for me, once I got Lucy’s letter asking me to come to Wyoming.”

He gave in to the curiosity he’d been fighting. “Jo says your family calls a lot. Are you supporting all of them?”

“Does Jo always tell you about other people’s private messages?”

“When she’s worried about a friend.”

Now it was Ally’s turn to grimace. “She doesn’t consider me a friend.”

It surprised him, the look of hurt. And knowing he’d put most of it there made him uncomfortable. “I know that at first the staff wasn’t exactly welcoming, but I also know that’s changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, you work hard, you’re good to everyone, and you genuinely care about this place and what we’re doing. Any of them would do just about anything for you, you’ve got to know that.”

She stared at him, her eyes suspiciously bright, and he groaned out loud.

But she quickly lifted a hand. “No, I’m okay. Really.” She sniffed and shot him an embarrassed laugh. “But they like me? They really like me?” She swiped at a tear. “I like them, too, very much. And despite not wanting to…” She moved toward him now, oh God,
right toward him, with a soft, warm light in her gaze. “I like you, too, Chance. A lot.”

He didn’t want to know this, and yet in a sick way, he
did
want to know it.
Sleep,
he decided. He needed sleep. That was all it was, just plain exhaustion.

Halfway convinced, he straightened away from the desk, but all that did was bring him into closer contact with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head.

Sweet and fiery. Shy yet sexy. Smart as hell, but somewhat naive. Adventurous. Ally was all those things, and every one of them drove him crazy.

“You know all about me,” she whispered, lifting a hand to his jaw. “But you never talk about yourself.”

Her touch set his body on fire. “Not everyone is an open book.”

She didn’t take the bait and back off. Antsy Ally was learning to stand up for herself, and damn if that wasn’t arousing all in itself.

“You’re not afraid of a little conversation, are you?” she murmured, dancing her fingers across his skin.

He might have laughed at that open dare, but she was still watching him so intently. Curiously. She really wanted to know about him.

“Tell me about you, about
your
family,” she pressed.

“I have one,” he said.

“Ooh, three whole words about yourself.”

“Very funny.” He grabbed her hand so she couldn’t touch him. “You already know everything. My parents are world travelers. They live in Las Vegas now. And I have two older brothers. Remember?”

“Yes… So you’re the baby of the family.” She smiled at that. “Hard to imagine. Do you see them often?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Are you sure you’re not tired? Because you look tired.”

“Why not?” she repeated patiently.

“They’re busy.”

“Would you be there for them if they needed you?”

“You mean would I send them money for a summer wardrobe?” He laughed when she rolled her eyes. “No. But yeah, I’d be there if they needed me.”

“And what about the friend who died? Were you married to her?”

“No.” When she continued to look at him questioningly, without censure or morbid curiosity, just a genuine need to know about him, he sighed. “Tina and I were young and stupid, and thought we were in love.”

“She…loved you.” The words were softly spoken, so softly he had to lean close to hear. A strand of her hair clung to the stubble on his jaw. “And you loved her.”

“Yes,” he said, then hesitated. “At least I thought so at the time, though I never told her. But now…” Now the truth was, he wasn’t so certain. Tina had been sweet and lovely, but so damn needy and vulnerable, despite her efforts to prove otherwise. Now he couldn’t imagine loving the woman she’d been, and it made him sad. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

“I understand,” she whispered, putting her hand on his chest again. “I’ve been fooled by my heart.”

“Thomas.”

“Yes.”

“He hurt you.”

“And you’ve been hurt, too.”

“Yes,” he admitted, then shook his head. “I have no idea what it is about you that makes me tell you things.”

“Because it’s nice to be talking instead of circling each other, or—” She bit her lower lip and looked at him from beneath her lashes.

“Or…?”

“Kissing,” she whispered.

“You don’t like the kissing?”

“Oh, I like the kissing.” Her gazed dropped to his mouth. “Too much.”

“But? I’m sure I sensed one at the end of that sentence.”

“But…we’re different.”

Unable to keep his distance, he stepped even loser. Their thighs bumped. “I tried to tell you that.”

“I’m slow and careful—”

“I wouldn’t say careful exactly,” he interrupted.

“And you’re fast and reckless.”

“I assume we’re not talking about sex.” Chance heard his voice go rough with desire, all the more so when she sucked in a shaky breath. He still didn’t touch her with his hands, though he itched to. Their bodies were straining toward each other, only a whisper apart. He could smell her, could feel her soft
breath, and the warmth of her skin. “Because believe me,” he murmured in her ear. “I like it slow
and
fast. Steady
and
reckless. I like it any way at all.”

Her eyes sort of glazed over at that, and she licked her lips. “I’m…not talking about
that.
I meant knowing how different we are, it’s hard to imagine…anything between us. Other than…”

His hands went to her waist, slowly slid around and up her spine.
“Sex,”
he finished for her.

“Yes, well.” She blushed. “I’m pretty sure that would work just fine.”

It was a mistake, but in spite of smelling like fire, in spite of the grime clinging to both of them, he plowed his fingers through her hair from beneath, holding her head in his palms. He could tell by the way she was staring at him, wide-eyed, lips tremulous and open, that she wanted him to kiss her. He lowered his face. “Let’s find out,” he suggested against her lips.

“I…I—”

He slid the tip of his tongue over the seam of her mouth and she moaned. “I think that would be playing with fire.” She pressed her hands to his chest. “And then there’s all those other women you’re wanting.” Her eyes had gone solemn. “I don’t like to share, Chance.”

She was waiting…
hoping,
he’d say something more. Maybe even offer her some sort of commitment to go with the sex they both wanted so badly that they were shaking. She was wondering if maybe he could change, change for her, and his heart clenched hard.

He couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

“Chance…” Slowly, eyes on his, she kissed his jaw.

His heart leaped. “Stop.”

She kissed the corner of his mouth.

“If I touch you now,” he said in a voice so thick and grainy he hardly recognized it, putting his hands on her hips to hold her away. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop until I’ve pulled off all our clothes, until I’ve touched and licked and kissed and sucked every inch of you.”

Her mouth fell open.

“I won’t stop until we’re both mindless with it, completely gone, until there’s nothing else. Do you understand what I’m saying, Ally?”

She only blinked and stared at him.