If looks could kill, Alexis would have drilled a hole in the back of Luke’s head by now. He really thought he had her number down. Princess, he called her, as if the worst crisis she’d ever had to deal with was a bad hair day. The outside of her body might not be marked up, but her scars would give his a run for his money. Not that she was about to enlighten him. She’d come here to put that part of her life behind her, not dredge it up to prove to some asshole that she was worth a damn.
She was more than the cancer that had demanded the removal of her ability to have kids as penance for her life. It didn’t win. She did. Even though she came out of that year feeling like she was walking off a battlefield into a strange version of the reality she’d once known. She wasn’t going to wave that knowledge in front of him. Pity wasn’t something she wanted—especially not from him—and she didn’t want him to start treating her with kid gloves like so many other people in her life.
But maybe he could stand to be a little less of a grumpy ass.
By the time they made it to the bottom of the path, she simultaneously wanted to kick him in the shin and offer him a shoulder to lean on. He didn’t seem to notice he was weaving on his feet, but she half expected him to topple at any second. God, this was the last thing she needed. The man was so much easier to deal with when he ran his mouth and acted like a dick.
Either way, he favored his right leg so much, there was no way he could drive. Elevation and ice is what he needs. Probably some ibuprofen, too, if we can find it. He wasn’t the type to accept help, even from a registered nurse, but that was too damn bad. Crappy attitude or not, he’d gotten her to the edge of that cliff, and so she was going to do what she could to help his pain.
She picked up her pace as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. Alexis grabbed them out of his hand and danced back when he turned on her. He’d already proven that he didn’t want her pity—which she understood all too well—so she’d take a page from his handbook and snarl him into submission. Putting as much snark into her voice as possible, she said, “I know where we’re going, so I’m driving. End of story.”
For a second, she thought he’d argue, but Luke just shook his head. “Whatever you say, princess. Your way or the highway, right?”
She’d never been that unbending even once in her life, but she nodded all the same. The faster they got back to the lodge, the faster he could sit his ass down and rest. “That’s exactly right.” He should know something about that, being stubborn as all get out.
“Figures.” He stomped over to a tiny red Volkswagen Golf. When she just stared, trying to reconcile this large man with the itty-bitty car, Luke glared. “It’s all they had.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“I can read it all over your face.” He marched over to the driver’s side, opened the door, and then marched back to the passenger door. At her blank look, his glare only deepened. “What? My auntie raised me right. Get in the car.”
Wordlessly, she rounded the front bumper, tossed her pack into the back, and slid into the driver’s seat. What was she supposed to say? Alexis couldn’t remember a single time a man had opened a door for her. Oh, Drew and Ryan did it from time to time, but that was different. She didn’t see them as men. But a boyfriend? Never. Even Eric had claimed to be so enlightened that it was his firm belief that feminism meant women should open their own damn doors and pay their own checks. They’d split every single date’s cost until they were engaged. And she’d patted herself on the back for not needing a man to take care of her then—or now.
That said… She liked the feeling that came when Luke opened her door, even if he was surly about it.
It was something to think about later, when she had time and space to be alone. She turned out onto the street and headed back toward the lodge where she’d spent the night last night. The drive was really pretty, the road curving through so much greenery, it was like a completely different world than back home. The man sitting beside her only added to the surreal feeling. In Wellingford, Luke never would have looked twice at her, and she never would have had the courage to push and prod and meet him every step of the way. She liked the New Alexis. She liked her a lot.
She just needed to figure out how to keep the changes when she finally went home.
The silence stretched, threatening to become uncomfortable—at least for her. He was staring out the window, and she wasn’t really sure what to do with a contemplative Luke. He was so much easier to deal with when he was snapping and snarling at her. “Thank you.”
“Not necessary. I do it for every woman.” He spoke without looking over.
She took half a second and considered letting it go. What would it hurt for him not to realize she knew what he’d been up to on the cliff? But he was the one who got her those final steps to the edge. She had to acknowledge that, for herself if not for him. “No, I mean thanks for back there—for goading me into getting to the edge.” She wasn’t sure if she could have done it without anger at him driving her.
“You would have gotten there on your own eventually. I just sped up the process.”
Shock spread through her, and she tightened her grip on the wheel. He threw it out so casually, as if he had no doubt in his mind that she would have made it to the edge. Just like that. This man, who seemed barely able to stand the sight of her half the time they spent together, had more faith in her than she had in herself.
She didn’t know how to respond to that, so she didn’t say anything. As they wound around the lake next to the massive building, her mind turned to the promise he’d made her at the top of Preikestolen. His mouth, her body, hours lost. She shouldn’t be so distracted by a man she barely knew, but if he was here through coincidence—and, really, what other logical reason would have put him at the top of that cliff at the same time as her?—the universe couldn’t be more clear than if it’d put up a big sign over his head that read Pay attention to him!
The problem was, she was still having a hell of a time believing that it was a coincidence. He could be a killer who’s stalking me. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she discarded it. If he were going to murder her and wear her skin as a birthday suit, he had more than enough opportunity in Cork when she was in his room, sleeping and vulnerable. And that cliff they’d just scaled—yeah, he could’ve pushed her right off it.
Alexis had her plan when she hopped that white-knuckled flight out of Philadelphia, but she hadn’t shared it with anyone. She’d picked a few places that had been important, either to her or to her mother. To anyone on the outside looking in, they’d be completely random and impossible to anticipate.
She’d only told…
She shot a look at him, slouched and glaring out the windshield. The only person she’d told was Avery. Surely her sister wouldn’t have… Alexis nearly cursed aloud. Of course Avery would. And even if she wouldn’t, Drew most certainly would. “Do you know Drew Flannery or Avery Yeung?” Even as she asked, part of her whispered please, please, please don’t be true.
Luke yawned. “Who?” Not even so much of a twitch at their names. If he had been sent here to babysit her, surely he would have given himself away?
She didn’t know. There was no way to tell for sure, but the possibility seemed less and less likely the more she thought about it. Where the hell would they have found this man, after all? She might not be as close to Drew as her sister was, but he wouldn’t have just contracted some random guy. He was far too overprotective for that, and no way would Avery have stood for it. Still… “What branch of the military did you say you were part of?”