Page 25 of Edge of Ruin
He was already imagining how he’d respond when the news of her violent, untimely end came to him. He would be shocked and sad but not at all surprised. What a waste, he’d say, his face pale and grave. Shaking his head at the tragedy of it. But he’d seen it coming. Oh, yes, he had. It was just the law of karma in action.
So sad. All that talent wasted.
Chapter Ten
Vivi
I was deeply absorbed in making a list of all the furniture I wanted. A bed, a couch, a coffee table, a bookcase. A nice rug. A dresser, a floor lamp. A spice rack, by God. Such a luxury, to hang clothes in a closet. To stick a fun magnet over a favorite photo onto the fridge.
The knock on the door made me jump. “Who is it?” I called.
“It’s me.” His deep voice made the entire surface of my skin tingle madly. I braced myself as I opened the door.
Jack stood there, holding a tray of tiny, feathery green seedlings. I gazed at them, utterly confused. Then he just handed the tray to me. “These are for you,” he said.
“For me?” I repeated stupidly.
“Eranthis hyemalis,” he said. “Winter Aconite. I saw some, at the nursery. I thought of you. They’re not blooming now, of course, and it’s late to plant them, but what the hell, we can give it a try. They like well-drained soil, and lots of shade. We can set them out beneath those big oaks over at the far side of the lawn. If you want.”
I closed my open mouth. “Ah … wow. I, uh?—”
“If we get lucky, they’ll multiply. Make a floral carpet.”
I was so charmed, I felt my face heat up and my throat clutch. “That is so sweet of you,” I said.
He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I was a jerk today. And last night.”
The heat in my face and throat spread, a soft, warm glow. It felt good.
He stepped in the door as I laid the seedlings on the kitchen counter. “Do you want to go to the hot springs now?”
Hoo, boy. Nothing had changed, even if he had apologized, I reminded myself. Going to a beautiful remote place to sit in a pool of hot water all alone with this man was a dumb idea. And the fact that he was acting sweet was all the more reason to stay away. “I don’t know much about plants,” I stalled, stroking a tender frond.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you,” he said. “So? Are you coming?”
“Yes,” I heard myself say, sealing my own doom.
“Let’s go.” He started down the stairs, Edna scrambling after him.
“Wait. You mean, right now? This minute? Don’t we need towels, bathing suits? Anything?”
“Bring what you want, but be sure to wear jeans. The poison oak is thick.”
“One minute.” I closed the door, shucked my clothes, and pulled on my battered old one-piece. I yanked my clothes on over it, tossed a towel over my shoulder, marveling at myself. About to bounce off to do the stupidest thing I’d ever deliberately done, and I could barely breathe, I was so freaking excited.
As he had warned me, the path was difficult. We hopped boulders upstream through the rushing river for about a mile or so, until sheer cliffs began to rise from the swift greenish glacial-melt water. Then I followed Jack up a steep gully and into a thicket of dense bushes, clambering up one steep hill and down another, through a narrow cleft between two towering boulders, under the draped fronds of a blackberry bush.
A tendril snarled into my hair. I was struggling to untangle it when he suddenly appeared beside me. He took the long, thorny vine in his hand. I stared at the hollow at the base of his throat. He was so warm, and he smelled so good. My body ached to know the sensation of leaning against that solid chest.
What would I do if he made a move on me? Flirted with me? Kissed me?
Oh, please. Duh. Like there was any question at all. I would jump all over him. Eat him for lunch. Climb him like a tree. Get real.
He let go of the lock of hair, laying it over my shoulder. He turned without saying a word and started to climb. I scrambled after him, relief warring with disappointment.
The path merged with a smaller streambed from the hillside above that had carved a gully leading down to the river. The walls of the gully were steep, the rocks covered with moss, thick with wild mint and luxuriant, spotted yellow flowers with heavy heads like snapdragons, and tufts of fragrant wild mint. I picked my way from boulder to boulder, Edna splashing ahead of me. At the mouth of the spring, Jack pointed upriver.
“Look there, past that tall rock,” he said. “See them?”
