Page 53 of Canyon Killer
He kissed her, a kiss full of so much passion and tenderness andneedthat she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go. When he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes, she said. “I choose option B.”
He blinked. “What were the options again?”
“Staying with you.” She stroked one finger down his cheek, feeling the afternoon stubble against her skin, an erotic sensation, as if that same stubble was brushing against every nerve. “Let’s go back to your place,” she said. “Now.”
* * *
Ian wanted tofigure out why sex with Bethany was so different. It was passionate and intense and satisfying, but it was different. For one thing, she talked while they made love. Not in an annoying way. She made him talk, too, about things he hadn’t spent much time verbalizing to anyone—what they liked to do in bed. What they didn’t like to do. How they thought about life and themselves.
And Bethany made him laugh. She had a wicked sense of humor that was sweet with a spicy kick. She made bad puns and told risqué jokes, and somehow that turned him on even more. She made sex fun. When they lay together afterward, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her, he thought he might know what people meant by the wordbliss.
“I’m hungry,” she said. “What do you have to eat?”
Ian tried to think what was in his refrigerator. “Probably not much,” he said. “We could go out to eat.”
“I don’t want to wait that long.” She sat up and reached for her shirt. “Let’s see what you have.”
What he had was a can of tomato soup, some slightly stale bread and a lot of cheese. He was still protesting that they should go out while Bethany was opening the soup and making sandwiches. Ten minutes later, they were eating grilled cheese and hot soup.
“Sorry I couldn’t offer something better,” he said. “I don’t cook much.”
“This is perfect.” She grinned at him. “This whole evening is perfect.”
After they ate, they wandered back into the living room/office. He was going to suggest they watch a movie when she sat down at his desk. She studied the notes he had made on a legal pad. “What are these?”
“I was playing around with some ideas for the public areas of the via ferrata. I want to highlight the history of the area.” He leaned over her and indicated some sketches he had made. “There are places that will take photographs and transform them into weatherproof plaques. I remember that the historical society had a lot of photographs related to the area. The sheriff’s department showed me one of some climbers in the canyon fifty years ago. I’d like to find more photos like that or even of ranchers or anyone who visited the canyon decades ago.
“I could affix the photos to the walls at different rest stops along the climbing route,” he continued. “People could read about the people in the photos. It would be something unique to this area.”
“That’s a brilliant idea.” She slid into the desk chair and studied the drawings more closely.
Ian reached over and pulled up a website showing the kinds of plaques he was considering. “What do you think of these?”
“I love it. I could go back to the historical society next week and look for more photos for you.”
He moved in behind her and put his hands on her shoulder. “I’ve been feeling guilty about asking you to help me while you’re still working for your family,” he said. “You deserve your free time.”
“I don’t mind helping. And I like learning more about the business.”
He knew she wasn’t just saying that. Bethany brought enthusiasm to everything she did. “Have you thought any more about coming to work for me?” he asked. “I need a smart person I can rely on.”
“To run the place while you’re away.”
He had said those words himself, so why did hearing them now make him feel like he had swallowed stones? “Even if I’m here, I need a good manager,” he said. “You’ll have a lot of freedom to make decisions. My dad and I don’t agree on a lot, but he taught me to hire good people, then let them alone to do the job they’re skilled at.”
“Do you really think that would work—me being your employee?” she asked.
“We’d find a way to make it work.”
“I want the job,” she said. “But I think I should wait until you have an opening date for the via ferrata before I tell my folks. They’ll need time to find someone else to do my job.”
“I’m willing to wait.”
Bethany turned back to the desk. There wasn’t anything significant about the conversation, but the air suddenly felt ten degrees cooler.
She rifled through a stack of invoices. “Do you want me to enter these on your books? I recognize the accounting program you’re using.”
“That would be great.”
