Falling Hard (Colorado High Country #3)

Because Dan was the pilot that day.

Regret cut at her, made her wish she’d waited or had never asked.

And then it struck her.

Maybe this was why he hadn’t told her about Dan. Maybe some part of him had been guarding this terrible memory, doing all it could to keep it from rising to the surface again where it could tear him apart.

Now he sat beside her, silent, his eyes closed. He was no longer shaking, but he wasn’t relaxed either, tension rolling off him in waves. Any minute now, he would explode, taking shelter in rage. He wouldn’t take it out on her. He would do what he always did, what his parents had done—he would take his anger out on himself.

“You don’t need this bullshit in your life, Ellie.” He drew his hand away, got to his feet, rage simmering beneath his skin. “You didn’t sign on for this shit show.”

She stood, too. “I’m not afraid of what you’re feeling. I’m not afraid of who you are or what you’ve seen or what you’ve had to do to survive.”

He glared down at her as if she’d lost her mind.

“What scares me…” Tears. Damn it! “What scares me is what you’re going to do in the next couple of hours, what you’re going to do tomorrow.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw, and then his gaze went soft. “I made you a promise, Ellie. I won’t break it.”

“Stay with me, Jesse. Please. Stay with me tonight.” She touched a hand to his chest, felt his heart pounding beneath his sweater.

He rested his hand on hers, and for a moment she thought he meant to pry her hand away. “Why do you want me in your life?”

“Why don’t you want me to care about you?” She raised herself onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his.

One strong arm slid around her rib cage, drawing her closer, his hand splayed against her back. “I didn’t say that.”

Then he bent down, his mouth claiming hers, all of the emotion he’d been holding back channeled into this kiss.

It was rough, almost violent. It was wonderful.

Her fingers slid into his hair, her tongue seeking his, answering his aggression with her own fierce demands, fear for him transforming into lust.

They fell together onto her bed, his hands reaching for her zipper, jerking her jeans down her thighs while she reached for a condom. She waited while he yanked open his fly then rolled the condom over his thick erection. And then he was inside her, driving hard, the friction making them both come hard and fast, giving them release.

They lay together afterward, holding each other, heartbeats slowing.

“I care about you, Ellie, more than I thought I could care about anyone. I care about Daniel and Daisy, too. But I don’t have it in me to be the man you need, the man you and the twins deserve. For your sake, I don’t think we should make this relationship out to be more than it is.”

Ellie closed her eyes to keep back the tears.



*

It was a bright, sunny Saturday on the slopes. The parking lot was packed, the lift lines long, the lodge crowded. Every patroller was busy, one call after another coming in. A collision with injuries between a twelve-year-old skier and a snowboarder. An injury accident on Snow in Summer. A drunk man trying to grope women in the lift line. A broken wrist at the terrain park. A guy who got stuck in the lift chair when his backpack got wedged between the slats.

It felt surreal to Jesse to be skiing through a winter landscape of happy, smiling people when his mind was stuck in the hot sand of Iraq. All day, the memory replayed itself in his mind. The sudden onslaught of AK fire and the explosion. Fighting to save Christine’s life. The headlong run toward Crash’s Black Hawk.

But Ellie’s words were there, too, and he held onto them with everything he had.

She was suffering, and you dulled her pain. She was scared, and you held her. She drifted into unconsciousness knowing she wasn’t alone.

He’d tried to warn Ellie last night, done his best to define their relationship so that she would understand he had nothing more to give. Even so, she had kept in touch with him all day, sending text messages.

HOW ARE YOU?



He’d replied with a photo of himself drinking coffee.

PROOF OF LIFE.



She’d texted again.

HOW’S YOUR DAY?



He’d replied with a photo of Indian Peaks from the ski lift.

SUNNY SKIES.



Around noon, she’d forwarded a photo her mother had taken of the twins eating French fries with ketchup on their little faces.

MESS MONSTERS. SEE YOU LATER.



That made him smile.

Ellie was worried about him, and this was her way of checking on him. He ought to find it cloying or irritating, but he didn’t. Knowing she was there when he got off work, knowing that she cared, made all the difference.

What had he done to deserve her?

You’d best hope she doesn’t ask herself that question.

Pamela Clare's books