At Last

“Not exactly,” she said. “Did you think about the job?” It would keep her in sight, and Amy could watch over her, make sure she was safe and eating. She waited for Riley to once again ask why Amy cared but she didn’t.

Progress.

“I’ve thought about it,” Riley said. “I’ll do it.”

Baby steps, but that was okay. Amy had discovered life was all about baby steps.

Chapter 16

One of life’s little mysteries is how a two-pound box of chocolate can make a person gain five pounds.

Matt had a hell of a long day, which included noncompliant picnickers, a search-and-rescue mission for a begi

Okay, he went to the diner to catch sight of Amy. He deserved it after the day he’d had. Amy happened to be on a break when he walked in, sitting at a small table in the far corner, bent over something.

Drawing, he realized when he got closer. She was sketching on her pad, oblivious to the room. Or at least she was until he got about halfway across the diner, then suddenly she went still, lifted her head, and met his gaze.

Lots of things flickered across her face, with heat leading the way. But what grabbed him by the throat and held on was the reluctant affection.

She wanted him. He’d proven that. Hell, he wanted her right back. But she also liked him. She didn’t want to, but she did. Inexplicably buoyed by that, he slid into her side of the booth, pressing his thigh to hers. “Hey.”

“Hey.” As always, she closed her sketch book and slid it away from him. “I was just taking a break.”

“You ever going to let me see your drawings?”

“I don’t know. They’re sort of personal.”

He leaned in close. “You’ve shared your body with me. And that felt pretty personal.”

She gave him a little shove and a laugh. “Not the same thing.”

Enjoying the sound of her amusement and the fact that she looked so pretty smiling, he let one of his own escape. “One of these days, you’re going to want to share with me.”

“My drawings?”

“Those too.”

She nudged him again, less of a shove this time. “Move. I’ll get up and get your order going.”

He didn’t move, but he did enjoy her hands on him, one on his arm, the other on his chest, especially since they lingered as if she couldn’t help herself. “I’m a patient man, Amy. I can wait.”

“It’s late, and you’ve got to be hungry,” she said, purposely misinterpreting that sentence. “At least let me put your order in. The usual, right? Or a double-double?”

They’d shared a double-double just last night, and it hadn’t been food. And actually, she’d gotten more than two orgasms. Maybe even a quadruple. He smiled at the memory, and she pointed at him.

“Stop that,” she said.

“Stop what?”

“You know what. You’re thinking things.”

He laughed. “Okay, you caught me. I’m definitely thinking… things.”

She looked around to see if anyone was paying them any attention. No one was. He’d come late enough tonight that the place was nearly emptied out. Only two customers were at the counter and one at a table on the far side of the diner. Leaning in, Matt put his mouth to the sweet spot just beneath Amy’s ear. “Why don’t you tell me what things you think I’m thinking?”

She actually blushed beet red, which was so adorably revealing that he laughed. She shoved him again, which made him laugh more.

“You’re crazy,” she said.

Yes. It was entirely possible that he was crazy. Crazy for her.

Riley walked by. She was wearing ratty jeans, battered sneakers, a sweatshirt he recognized as Amy’s, and a bright pink Eat Me apron. She was carrying a tray of dirty glasses and dishes and a very large chip on her shoulder. Matt looked at Amy.

“I got her a job,” she said, and when he smiled at her, she lifted a shoulder. “It was no big deal.”

But it was. “You’re helping her.”

“Anyone would.”

“That’s the thing,” he said. “They wouldn’t. They don’t.”

She stared at him. “You seem to have this blind faith in me, like I’m a good person and some sort of decent influence.”

“You are.” He reached out and pushed a strand of hair back off her face, stroking it behind her ear. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She was already shaking her head. “You don’t know me.”

“I know enough. It’s all there in your eyes.”

Those eyes met his now, filled with a warmth he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to.

“Your life has been very different from mine,” she said.

“Does it matter?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

She looked around the diner, then back at him. And then she put her hand on her sketchbook and pushed it across the table toward him.

Not one to squander an opportunity, Matt put his hand over hers on the book. “Yeah?”

She paused and then pulled her hand free. “Yeah.”

He held her gaze, smiled at her, then opened the book and found himself completely speechless at the sheer mind-blowing talent leaping off the page. Each drawing was a rendering of the Pacific Northwest in some fashion or another. Squaw Flats, Eagle Rock, Four Lakes, Sierra Meadows, and Widow’s Peak, she’d done them all, rendering them in colored pencil, so perfectly that he could almost smell the pines and feel the breeze. “Amy, Jesus. You’re amazing.”

“Thanks.” Her cheeks were a little pink with the praise, making him wonder if she’d ever shown anyone her drawings before.

He flipped back to Sierra Meadows. “This is close to where I found you that night, when you were… not lost.”

That earned him a small smile. “The night I fell down the ravine. The night you shared your tent.”

“Which has been in heavy rotation in my fantasies ever since.”

“You have some sort of a rescue fetish, Ranger Hot Buns?”

“No, I have a pale blue panty fetish.”

She let out a low laugh. “It was dark.”

“I have panty x-ray vision. God-given talent.”

She laughed again, and the sound warmed him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her work. “You’re so talented,” he said, truly awed. “You should show these more often. You know Lucille runs an art gallery, right? She’d love these.”

“They’ve always been just for me.”

He met her gaze. “So what changed? Why show me now?”

She paused. “Well, I guess it’s because you let me in. You told me about your childhood, your family. Your past. You’ve counted on me to help Riley.” She shrugged. “You shared yourself with me, so I guess that somehow makes it okay for me to share with you.”

At this, Matt felt his smile slowly fade, and guilt twisted in his gut. She thought he’d opened up, when in fact he’d purposely told her only the good things. What was even worse was that he’d let her think she could trust him, count on him. He liked the idea of her trusting him, a lot, but the last time he’d been down this road, he’d fucked up. Royally. His ex could attest to that. He’d promised not to get attached, but he was.

Deeply.

And suddenly, he wasn’t in the least bit hungry. Suddenly his stomach was burning and churning. Suddenly, he had to go. Be alone. Now. Gently, he pushed her sketch pad back to her.

She cocked her head to the side, eyes on his, clearly sensing a change in him, but just as clearly not understanding what.

As he couldn’t understand it either, there was no way to explain it to her. “Jan’s trying to get your attention,” he said.

She held his gaze a moment longer, eyes sharp. He hadn’t fooled her. But in classic Amy fashion, she took the easy way out and let him distract her. She glanced up at Jan, who was indeed pointing to her watch.