Reconsidering Riley (35 page)

"Too bad." Wrenching from his grasp, she
crossed the room and pulled out her luggage. She stuffed her things
inside the topmost piece. "Because you can't have
me
."

"Jayne—"

Finally
! Finally, he was going to
explain himself. She paused, not looking at him. When a moment
passed and Riley remained silent, she looked over her shoulder.
"Yes?"

"I—" Looking frustrated, he gave her a
beseeching look.

She straightened and crossed her arms.
"What, Riley?"

His frustration only seemed to increase.
"I'm out of prepared statements! Damn." He stomped to the
four-poster and kicked it. Grimacing in pain, he hopped on one foot
for an instant. "Nope, this isn't a nightmare. Shit."

He hoped she was a nightmare? Now Jayne was
really
hurt.

"'Prepared statements?'" she repeated, going
back to her packing. "What am I? A political problem? A messy
scandal? A pending personal injury lawsuit?"

"No."

She waited for more. Nothing came. "That's
it? 'No?'"

Riley stood nearby; she could feel him. "I'm
trying, Jayne," he said huskily. "I just woke up, I'm not even
dressed yet—"

"Gee, and already you've broken my heart.
Nice work."

Silence descended, heavy with hurt. This
time, though, Riley did more than fumble over an explanation. He
strode to her decisively, the floorboards thundering beneath his
feet. He grabbed both her arms, spinning her away from her luggage,
and stared down at her.

"I did
not
break your heart!"

"Oh? And who would know about that?"

"Not you, obviously."

"
I'm
the expert!"

"Sure." Riley nodded. "The heartbreak
expert. How could I have forgotten your famous techniques?"

He released her angrily, and Jayne hurled
down the T-shirt she'd been packing. "They work! They helped me,
and lots of other people."

He shook his head. "I'd hate to see the
kinds of losers you must have dated for your research."

This was too much. She was too hurt to keep
the truth inside anymore, too hurt to hide her feelings. "It was
you
, all right? You!"

Riley looked puzzled. "Me? Me what?"

"You were the 'loser' I dated for research,"
Jayne said. Just for a moment, she triumphed in the surprise in his
eyes. "You were the one who broke my heart. The one who inspired my
anti-heartbreak book. The one—the only one—I could never quite get
over. It was you, you, you—"

You, who I feel in love with again
.
She stopped herself just in time. Tears choked off her voice before
she could reveal the most hurtful truth of all.
You, who I
need
.

"It was you," she whispered.

Suddenly, Riley was there. He pulled her
into his arms, but Jayne struggled. The last thing she wanted was
his pity.

"Ow!" he yelled. "You kicked me in the
shin!"

"Consider it a 'keep away' sign."

"I don't want to. Jayne—" He followed her to
the end of the bed, where she'd stomped to stack her luggage.
"Jayne, listen to me. I was starting to change my mind about
Antigua. I'd almost decided to look for an assignment closer to
home."

Almost? Almost decided? That was the best he
could do? How, exactly, had 'sweet talk' like that duped her? "I
don't want your pity," she said stubbornly.

"It's not—oh, Jayne." Riley's lips pressed
against her forehead, her hair, her cheek, as he tried to turn her
sideways to face him. His hands were everywhere, encouraging her to
let him hold her. "It's not pity. Look, I should have said this
before, but...I had an idea."

"Wow, alert the media." She sniffled, wiped
her eyes with the heel of her hand. She unloaded some clothes for
today. She yanked open the zipper of her backpack and surveyed its
contents through teary eyes. "Riley Davis has been thinking."

"I've been thinking about you, damn it!"

He spread his arms wide in an emphatic
gesture. The motion called Jayne's attention to his sheet—the lack
of it. He stood there completely nude, and completely unbothered by
that fact. She guessed if she were a man with a wonderfully carved
torso, broad shoulders, and powerful thighs, she might not care
either, if—

No!
Riley wasn't hers to ogle
anymore, either.

Suddenly, Jayne felt awfully naked. Glancing
down at herself, she realized she'd never changed from her sheer
pink nightie and slippers.

"Don't think about me," she told him as she
reached for her clothes. "You're already on your way to Antigua,
remember?"

Geez, she'd really believed he'd changed his
mind. Feeling like the biggest idiot who'd even fallen for a
charming ex, Jayne kicked off her slippers, watching the marabou
trim flutter as they sailed across the room. She stepped into a
pair of trail pants. Some jumping up and down and a little
wriggling later, she was tucking her nightie into her waistband.
Its top and matching panties would have to stand in for underwear.
She was in no mood to get naked in front of the man who'd just let
it be known she wasn't good enough to stick around for.

"Listen to me," Riley said. "About my
traveling—"

"Save it." She pulled on a fleece and socks,
then reached for her ATSes. "It's none of my business.
Obviously."

"But it
is
your business. I've been
thinking, we could make our future permanently temporary. Like an
arrangement. You know, whenever I'm in town, we could get together.
Come on, Jayne. It will be fun."

Jayne glanced up from her shoes. Riley
actually looked hopeful. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I've lost my heart."

"
Stop it
." Some things hurt too much
to hear.

"We're perfect together. You liked the
hiking!"

As if
that
explained anything. "I was
forced
to hike."

Again, that hurt expression from him. She
didn't get it.

"You're better at 'temporary' now," Riley
insisted doggedly. "I know it could work."

Blinking back tears, she finished tying her
shoes. She looked up. "I don't want temporary, Riley. I want
permanent."

His jaw literally dropped. He frowned.

"I want stability. Companionship. Lifelong
passion."

He shoved a hand through his hair, seeming
confused.

"I can see you don't want the same things,"
Jayne went on. "I guess I should have already known it, but—"

"Damn right, you should have known it! You
did
know it! I never pretended to be anything but what I
am."

"No, but I let
myself
pretend."
Feeling indescribably sad, Jayne stood. "I'm sorry. I just can't
date like a man."

Huh?
asked his expression. Riley
rallied. "Good thing. I want a woman. I want you."

She shouldn't ask it. She shouldn't. But
somehow, Jayne just couldn't resist. "Enough to skip Antigua?"

He hesitated, and that was it.

"I can't stay here," she said, hefting her
pack.

"You are
not
leaving." His fierce
expression dared her to disagree.

She did. She also tried to explain.
"Remember when we played hooky from fishing, and we agreed to try
again?"

He nodded, reluctantly.

"I told you something then," Jayne said,
working to strap on her backpack. "I told you that this time,
I
wanted to be the one to say good-bye."

Riley glared at her. He gave a grudging nod.
"I remember. But I'll be damned if I'll let you—"

"For the first time in my life," she
whispered, "I think I need to be alone." She couldn't believe it,
but it was true. Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, Jayne rose
on tiptoed ATSes. She pressed a salty kiss to his lips. "This is
it. Good-bye, Riley."

Then, while she still had the strength to do
it, Jayne turned away from Riley for the last time, and left him
behind.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Riley stared at the open doorway, hardly
able to believe what had just happened. Jayne had actually
gone
. The door creaked as it swung a few inches inward,
stirred by her passage. For the first time in his life,
he
was the one who'd been left behind.

It was horrible.

Listening to her footsteps echo down the
hallway, he had the uncomfortable sensation of hearing his future
change irrevocably. In that moment, Riley realized exactly how much
he'd been hoping things would work between him and Jayne. He
realized exactly how much he loved her.

It was you. You were the one who broke my
heart. The one who inspired my anti-heartbreak book. The one—the
only one—I could never quite get over
.

Still stunned by her revelation, Riley put a
hand to his head and frowned. He was a good-bye guy. A guy who sent
women to heartbreak camp. He,
he
, was Bozo Boy.

The knowledge put every one of Jayne's kooky
anti-heartbreak techniques in a whole new light. It made him see
her, and all her guidance groupies, in an entirely different way.
Without meaning to, he'd inspired a whole damned best-selling
movement
. It was a hell of a lot to make up for.

It was too much to make up for. He'd never
promised Jayne anything more than he'd given her, Riley told
himself angrily. He'd never offered tomorrow, because he'd always
known it wasn't his to give. It never had been.

But this...this was like every outsider
moment he'd ever had, magnified a gazillion times and served up in
Technicolor. With surround sound. Left behind by someone he cared
about, Riley suddenly knew that loneliness cut both ways. Geography
was irrelevant when it came to feeling empty.

He'd always imagined the people he'd left
behind carrying on with their lives, instantly obliterating the gap
left by his leaving. Now, he wondered. Was it possible they'd hurt?
Just like this?

God, he hoped not. This was the worst
feeling in the world. It poured through him like cold on an Arctic
peak, silent and irrevocable. He might never feel warm again.

He didn't know what to do. He'd always
escaped before this point, had always been on the move before his
feelings caught up with him. Now, Riley had the damnable sense
there wasn't a journey long enough to drive back everything inside
him.

The blare of an auto horn split the quiet
peacefulness outside the lodge. Another blast followed, jolting
Riley from his thoughts.
His Suburban
. The Hideaway Lodge
employee who'd agreed to meet him here with it must have
arrived.

Automatically, he moved to the corner where
he'd tossed his pack. He dressed, putting on his trail pants, a
long-sleeved T-shirt, socks and boots. He shoved his hands through
his hair and rubbed his gritty eyes, noticing the achiness behind
them and then determinedly ignoring it. Numbness edged into the
Arctic chill inside him and found a perfect fit.

All he knew how to do was keep moving. Riley
didn't know if the journeying that had always saved him would be
enough this time...but it was all he had. Bleakly, he shouldered
his pack. He took one last look at the room—the room where he'd
loved Jayne.

The room where he'd lost her.

Then, drawing in a deep breath, Riley headed
outside, back to the life he'd known and no longer missed. Back to
the life he'd so blithely summed up only a few hours before.
To
see, to do, to conquer, to enjoy
.

To grieve.

Damn
. With a mighty effort, he
swallowed the lump that rose to his throat. He closed the door on
the togetherness he'd found with Jayne, brushed the wood with his
fingertips one final time. Riley tapped a decisive beat on the hard
painted pine, then stepped away. Leaving wasn't much, but there was
still a chance it could save him. Without Jayne, he knew for sure
that nothing else would.

Tromping around the forested area beyond the
canyon lodge, Jayne lost track of how many steps she took. She lost
track of how many logs she scrambled over, how many leafy oaks she
passed beneath, how many trails crisscrossed her path. All she
could think about was her need to get away.

Right now, the great outdoors seemed as good
a place as any to fulfill that need.

She'd stopped by the lodge dining room
before leaving, to ask a surprised Mack to take charge of her
breakup-ees until she got back. They'd need someone to lean on
until it came time to return to the Hideaway Lodge, Jayne had told
him—someone responsible.

She
hadn't
told him exactly how
poorly she herself fit the bill...but more than likely, her
red-rimmed eyes and bed-head hair had spoken for themselves. Jayne
was a woman out of her element. She wasn't sure how she would ever
find herself again.

Sick with regret, weak with loss, she just
kept going. She ascended a hill dotted with green ferns and forest
grass, crab-walked sideways with ATS-ensured steadiness down into a
gully shaded by pines. Strange as it was, the rugged terrain felt
almost comforting to her now—quiet but for the whoosh of the wind,
still but for the occasional rustle of a bird, warm but for the icy
disappointment inside her. Within it, Jayne walked and walked.
Eventually, she came to a place that fit the criteria she'd so
recently been trained to look for (sheltered on one side,
relatively flat, bare of animal tracks and a short distance from a
stream), and dropped her pack.

She needed to think. To plan. To recover.
Broken hearts took time to heal, and hers felt more shattered than
most. She didn't think she could face her breakup-ees until she'd
come to terms with that, at least a little bit.

Riley's eagerness to be on his way without
her had hurt Jayne deeply. His unchanged plans to leave for Antigua
had been a slap in the face to her hopefulness, her vulnerability,
her love. Once again, she'd obviously been judged and found
wanting...only this time, the stakes were much more serious than a
family fishing trip or a touch football game.