Born to Be Wild (10 page)

Dara’s wince was automatic and uncontrollable. The next thing she knew, Zach had zoomed through the intersection
and pulled off the road onto the wide grassy shoulder.

He shoved the emergency brake on and propped one knee on the seat and draped his arm along the back. “Hey listen. Dara, whatever I said, I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter, Zach.” She looked at him. “Not really. I mean, it’s a moot point. Beyond determining whether or not you are capable of setting up a trip to meet the foundation’s specifications, how I feel about what you do really doesn’t make a difference.”

“It obviously does make a difference, Dara.” He moved his hand to cup her head, playing gently with a strand of her hair. “Don’t ask me why, I’ve never much cared what people thought of me. But your opinion matters a great deal to me.”

Don’t ask me why
. No, she wouldn’t. If she did, then he might ask the same question of her, or worse, she might ask it of herself. Because regardless of the fact that it shouldn’t, Zach’s opinion mattered to her too.

“Zach,” she said finally, “you’re a good friend to Dane. You and Jarrett. My brother didn’t always make friends easily.”

“Yeah, he was the quiet, studious one. More like your mom.”

“After we moved to Fairfax, Dane never really had friends like you and Jarrett again. I guess that’s why he’s worked hard to keep in touch with you guys over the years.”

“His friendship is important to me too. And now that I’ve met you again, so is yours.”

His fingers drifted to her neck. “That’s my point.”
She pulled away. “I think it would be better if we just concentrate on business and keep this as a friendship.”

Zach’s brown eyes probed hers for a long, silent moment. She didn’t turn away. Finally, he said, “One of the things my occupation has taught me is that I’m very good at concentrating on more than one thing at a time. And I have no intention of losing your friendship.”

“Zach—”

He moved across the seat, capturing her head between his hands. His mouth was gentle and requesting on hers. Asking her to respond, to be honest with him … with herself.

Just as she leaned into his kiss, Zach pulled back. He’d hit the edge the moment their lips had touched and knew if he didn’t back away now, he’d sail off and take her with him.

His gaze strayed out the window, then back to her. He gestured to the truck interior. “Am I the only one who sees a definite pattern emerging here?” He’d tried for humor, but the words sounded rough. Damn, why did everything with her seem so important? He couldn’t escape the feeling that he was walking on a narrow ledge and that if he wasn’t careful, some unseen shove would send him tumbling off with nothing but air as his safety net.

He took one look at her glassy eyes and felt a distinct nudge.

“This is hopeless, Zach.” She braced her hands on his shoulders. “It is. We weren’t compatible as kids, and we’re even more incompatible now. You leap before you look, and most of the time I don’t even make it to the edge.”

“You’re wrong. The reason we didn’t get along as kids was because we were too much alike. You’re still one of the bravest people I know. What you face every day. When we were kids you never gave in. You always stood up to me even at my worst. You’re standing up to me now.” He covered her hands with his, pulling them from his shoulders. “I know you think I’m irresponsible, but I really do look first. There is no room for error in most of the things I do, so I calculate risks, measure the odds.” His lips curved. “Dead clients don’t make great repeat customers, and word of mouth doesn’t work too well from beyond the grave.”

Dara fought to breathe past the sudden knot in her throat. No. She wouldn’t repeat past mistakes. She’d been young, inexperienced, and feeling a bit immortal herself when Daniel had swept into her life. But his effect on her could be described as a mild breeze compared with the hurricane force of one Zach Brogan. She felt about as futile as if she were fighting a real one single-handed.

“You know what I’m saying, Zach,” she persisted. “You keep thinking of me the way I was back then. I’m not that person anymore. You’re still impulsive, I’m not. You’re—”

“Getting tired of this line of discussion.” He sighed as she tried to tug her hands from his, but held tight. “Okay, I can see I’m beating my head against the proverbial wall here. And I know I have an entire childhood of stupid behavior to live down and an occupation that is admittedly not the standard nine-to-five gig.”

“It’s more than that—”

He tugged her closer. “But I also think there’s still
more D’Artagnan in you than you’re willing to admit. Yes, you’ve changed. So have I, even if you don’t see it. I don’t know why you climbed into the castle and pulled up the drawbridge behind you, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t spend time together. Get past the surface impressions, the childhood memories. Who knows, maybe we’ll find out there’s something more going on here than hormones with a bad case of spring fever.”

She blew out a long, soft breath and lowered her head.

Keeping her hands locked under one of his, he tilted her chin up. “Or is that what you’re afraid of?”

Zach saw the fear and resignation in Dara’s eyes. It made his heart stumble.

“I’m just trying to be realistic,” she said. “Yes, we could spend more time together. But I think our hormones have already made it quite clear how they want us to spend it.”

“And is that really so bad, Dara?”

She looked him straight in the eyes and said, “I don’t think I could handle it.” She placed her fingertips across his lips when he would have spoken. “It’s not all hormones. I do like you, Zach.” A ghost of a smile curved her lips. “Which is something I’d never thought I’d hear myself say. And I know you’re a loyal friend to Dane and Jarrett. I could use a friend like that. I don’t want to risk losing that for a short-term affair, no matter how intense and wild it may be.”

“And what if we can’t be just friends, Dart?” he whispered roughly. “Wouldn’t you rather take the risk of
finding out that maybe what we have is bigger, brighter than we’d ever expected, than have nothing at all?”

He dipped his head slightly and pulled the tip of her finger into his mouth. She gasped, and he pulled her finger deeper into his mouth, exerting slight pressure, then let it slide out, before doing it again. He lifted his hand to her wrist, holding her there, then suddenly pulled her into his lap.

He let her finger slip from his mouth and lowered his face to hers. “Don’t you think the decision is already out of our hands?”

Her breath was coming out in fast, short pants, her pupils were dilated to the point of swallowing her irises. His fingers pressed against her wrist absorbed the rapid rate of her pulse.

“No,” she said, an almost desperate edge to her voice. “I … I can name another director … to handle the trip, I mean. We can walk away from this. And in a while we won’t feel this way anymore.”

He jerked her closer. “You really believe that? How long will it take, Dara? A day? A week? Another fifteen years?”

“I think maybe it’s time you took me home.”

“And I think you’ve finally walked back to the edge, Dart. Maybe it’s time for you to leap.”

Dara thought her heart might burst through her chest it pounded so hard. How had she let this happen to her again? She wanted him so bad right now that nothing, not even recalling the darkest moments of her past could help her.

But her self-preservation instincts must have been more deeply ingrained than she knew. Because before
she could coherently decide on an action, she was scrambling out of his lap and over to her side of the truck. She opened her window and turned her face to warm air, taking deep, gulping breaths.

She’d been to the edge and survived. Somehow that realization wasn’t nearly as empowering as it should have been. She didn’t look at Zach.

He shifted the truck into four-wheel drive and headed out across the empty field, using the huge “land for sale” sign posted by the roadside as an open invitation to make himself at home.

He didn’t stop until the road noise was a distant hum and the grass wheel-hub high. A broken-down fenceline, an old abandoned barn, and a topless silo were their only company. That and the soft rolling shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Zach dug out a blanket, spread it across the bed liner in the back and popped open the cooler. He appeared at her door a minute later, and without a word swung her into his arms and lifted her into the back of the truck in one graceful motion.

“Help yourself,” he directed as he braced one hand on the open tailgate and vaulted into the back.

Dara took him at his word, more to give herself something else to concentrate on than because she was really hungry.

She discovered she was hungry as she yanked several aluminum-foil-wrapped packages and a six-pack of soft drinks out of the cooler and arranged them on the blanket. Starving in fact.

Talk about other things. That’s what they needed to do. Discuss the camping trip, get him to tell her about
some of the wild things he’d done. She could tell him about some of the wishes she’d seen fulfilled at the foundation. The sort of stuff friends would talk about. Talk. Period.

“I hope you like cold cuts.” Zach took a bag of chips and a bunch of grapes from the cooler then flipped over the lid as a makeshift table.

“It all looks fine.” They arranged their plates in silence, which was surprisingly free of tension. Maybe it was the warmth of the sun seeping into her bones, the languid, lazy feeling of being out in the middle of nowhere on a beautiful day. With the cooler between them, they both settled back against the black plastic storage compartment that was built in behind the cab and rested the plates on their stomachs. The last of her muscles uncoiled and relaxed. Maybe she’d finally gotten through to him. It wouldn’t be so hard after all to keep things platonic.

“Dara.”

She’d been staring up at the cloudless sky, concentrating on the soothing feeling of the gentle breeze on her skin and the heat of the sun on her face. Calm and unguarded, she turned to Zach. “Hmm?”

“Open your mouth.”

“Wha—?” The question was cut off by a plump grape, which Zach pressed gently between her lips.

“Good, huh?”

She chewed the juicy fruit and nodded warily when his fingers remained on her lips a bit longer than necessary. She had to stifle the urge to lick them and catch his taste too.

“Have another.” He leaned over her, casting her body in the shade.

She took the small bunch from his hands, popped the remaining three in her mouth, then handed him the empty stems. His grin was wide and free, and made her wish she hadn’t been so quick to stop him.

No. Friends talked and laughed together. But she was fairly certain that they didn’t feed each other.

“Sit up for a second.” He motioned her forward, then shifted to his knees, and unlocked the storage compartment.

From her position she could see a few volleyballs, some rope, and some unusual-looking equipment she wasn’t familiar with. Before she could ask, he pulled out a rolled-up, multihued bundle and a large spool of string then quickly closed the lid. With his foot, he shoved the cooler to the side of the truck and began to unfurl the colorful roll.

He smiled over at her as he stuck his finger in his mouth then held it up to the wind. “Perfect.” He unearthed another old blanket, rolled it up and laid it in the truck bed along the front of the storage box.

“Lie down.”

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

He smiled. “Just stretch out and relax.” He reached over and flipped the sunglasses she’d pushed up on her head down to her nose. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Dara bit her tongue; it was either that or give in to the impulse to stick it out at him, but she did as he asked. She was rewarded by his look of surprise. He’d expected her to be difficult. Amazing how easily they slipped back into their childhood roles of challenge me-challenge you.

Zach leapt gracefully over the side of the truck. She sat up and rolled to her knees.

“What are you doing?”

He looked over his shoulder. “I promised you a picnic, to keep you outside, and a business meeting that would be fun and not boring. But you’re making it really hard.” When she scowled, he just winked. “Now would you lie back down, please?”

“Yes, sir.” It had been so long since she’d really relaxed and enjoyed herself. Usually she was in charge of making sure everyone else was relaxing and having fun first.

Lost in her thoughts, she gasped when a cloud of bold, vibrant color billowed up over her head. She watched, entranced, as the Chinese dragon kite caught the breeze and sailed upward. A quick peek showed Zach was yards away, working the line. When the brilliant streak of nylon appeard much smaller than she knew it to be, he came back to the truck.

“Here, hold this.” He pushed the string roll at her.

“Me? I’ve never flown a kite.”

He shoved the large plastic spindle into her hands, placing her thumb over the string to keep it from spinning out. “Now you have.”

He grabbed a pair of aviator sunglasses from the dashboard and slipped them on, then hopped back into the bed of the truck. After quickly stowing away the remains of their lunch, he stretched out next to her, leaving just enough space between them so their elbows brushed together.

“It’s beautiful.”

Zach rolled toward her and braced his head on his hand. “Yeah, I know.”

She frowned. “I was talking about the kite.”

He lifted his shades, his expression one of mock confusion. “Who said I wasn’t?”

Trying hard not to blush—something she’d done far too often since meeting him again—she turned her attention back to the sky and the dragon.

Zach rolled onto his back again, tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. “So, you want to hear about the trip?”

She laughed.

“What?” He lifted his head and looked over at her. “This is the business part of the promise.” He grinned. “Or have you changed your mind about that part? Myself, I’d much prefer a personal conversation.”

“Stick to business, Brogan. Personal is too dangerous around you.”