“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along,” she recited.
I smiled, a warmth expanding down low in my stomach, along with a sense memory of Jonah sliding into me. “I like that,” I said
“I do too,” Dena said in her gentle voice, the kind of quiet tone that made you feel like she was telling you something only meant for you to hear. “Rumi, again. Never ceases to amaze me how his words still feel so true and potent, hundreds of years after he lived.”
We stopped and watched the guys skip rocks. Even fifty yards away, I could see laughter in Jonah and Oscar’s stance, and glowering sullenness in Theo’s.
“Jonah is one of the best men I’ve ever known,” Dena said. “It’s been hard seeing him shut down the part of him that longs for love and wants to care for someone. When he had that last biopsy… He made a decision not to get involved with anyone again. He used Audrey’s breakup as the cover. But now he’s with you. He un—made the decision. Now he has a chance.”
“A chance of what?”
“Of being happy. He is happy with you.” Dena’s dark eyes met mine intently. “He won’t jump out of planes or visit far-flung places of the earth. He has no bucket list. He only wants to finish his installation. And I worried—we all did—it wasn’t enough. I have no doubt he’ll finish. But I wanted him to share his beautiful art with someone. And now he is.”
She put her hand in mine, gave it a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure he fought to protect you. To keep you—”
“At a safe distance,” I said.
She sighed, nodded. “He’s pushed so many friends away for the same reason. But he couldn’t keep you away, could he?”
I shook my head, a smile spreading my lips. “No, he couldn’t.”
“Of course not,” Dena said with a laugh, and turned her gaze on Jonah. “You were in each other all along.”
Oscar confirmed a heavy rainstorm was set to drench the Basin. By the look of the dark clouds rolling in, he guessed an hour tops.
“I saw the weather before we left,” Oscar said, “but I hoped it would miss us so I took a chance. Sorry, guys.”
“This sucks,” Kacey said to me. “Turns out I like camping. It’s peaceful here. Away from the city and cars and other people. And I wanted more time here with you.” She looked up at me and traced the line of my jaw, then her eyes flicked toward the others packing up. “Can we stay? I want to see the rain.”
I wrapped my arms around her waist. “Thunderstorms out here are pretty gnarly,” I said. “You sure you want to?”
She nodded. “I’m from San Diego, remember, where a drizzle that lasts more than five minutes is a downpour.” She pressed my body closer to mine, brushed her lips over my mouth. “I want to dance in the real rain.”
I stared, all the blood in my brain draining due south. “Stay it is.”
“Just watch out for mountain lions,” Oscar said. His eyebrows flicked up twice. “You can always tell they’re coming by how loud their roar is.”
She socked his shoulder. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
“Never.”
Theo strode over, pulled us aside.
“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?”
“She wants to feel the rainfall,” I said.
“Real rain,” Kacey said. “I’ve never seen it before. I’m a dork, I know…”
“And I’m a fucking wreck worried Jonah’s immune system can’t handle cold rain. We all got a job here.”
“I swear, Teddy,” Kacey said. “I want him healthy as much as you do.”
“Jesus, I’m standing right here, guys,” I said.
Theo looked at me a long time. “Yes, you are.” He gave his head a shake and jabbed a finger at me. “Stay dry.”
“Scout’s honor,” I said, holding up a hand.
Theo snorted and started away. “You were never a scout.”
“That’s for damn sure,” I said. I hauled Kacey to me as soon as the cars vanished down the hill. I held her tight, kissed her hard.
“You have to wait for the rain,” she breathed against my lips.
“Don’t want to,” I said, my hands slipping up her shirt. Now that I could touch her, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. Couldn’t get enough of her nearness, her body, her kisses…
“You have to stay dry,” she said, leading me to the tent. “We promised Teddy.”
In the tent, I divested her of everything she wore except the old men’s button-down. Just as she melted against me, ready to give in, the sky cracked open. A flash of light lit up the world on the other side of the tent. Kacey sat up and pulled aside the tent flap, watching the slanted sheets of rain outside.
“Oh my God. That’s real rain.”
She slipped out of the tent and gave a little squeal as the cold water hit her, drenching her instantly. “Oh shit, Theo was right. This is cold as hell.”
“Come back,” I said.
“Not yet,” she said, letting the water wash over her, her hips swaying slightly. “I wish you could come dance with me.”