Apparently, I was supposed to pretend the sexiest, not-sex of my life never happened.
When we broke camp the next morning and started the long hike back to the trucks, Lincoln kept a noticeable distance. Apart from when it was absolutely necessary, he didn’t speak a word to me. What started out as an optimistic morning quickly soured when he barely grunted at my cheery “Good morning!”
Never being one to miss a hint, I steeled myself against the cold shoulder I was getting from Lincoln. If he wanted to act like nothing happened, fine.
Fuck that guy.
I frowned when I looked down at the bracelet he had made for me. I could talk a good game to myself, but I still hadn’t been able to take it off. Running a finger over the bumpy surface, I couldn’t help but soften—just a bit.
I used the thin mountain air to distract me from the uncomfortable feelings pushing up against my ribs. One minute, we’re kissing in a pool of water, and then next, he stops it. I’m his friend, then his lover. He’s tender and sweet and taking charming walks at midnight and the next morning, a total asshole.
It’s vacation sex to him. Men like him don’t choose girls like you.
Was that it? Was what I thought to be a spark between us nothing more than the fact that I was the only woman on an all-male trip?
Pushing my body harder than necessary, I trudged up the ridge. I had to get more distance between myself and the rising feelings of disgust and disappointment. Disappointed in myself for mistaking hot sex for a connection. For wondering if the scarred Valkyrie tattoo on his forearm was about me, but being too afraid to ask. For letting myself think one walk in a wildflower meadow under the stars could be the start of something different.
Knock it off. You know better.
After we got back to the trucks, I helped Brandon and Lincoln unload, but I couldn’t get out of Chikalu fast enough. The exercise from the hike and the sunshine didn’t do anything to lift my dark mood.
Back at the Chikalu Rose Motel, I gathered the few clothes I had left behind and stuffed them unceremoniously into my suitcase. I’d worry about laundry once I got out of there. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and cleared my throat. I had absolutely zero reason to be this upset.
My phone chirped with a message.
Finn: There in five.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
True to his word, and never one to be late, Finn knocked while opening the door before I could even say “Come in.”
“Hey, Banana! I heard you were back already.” His boundless energy was truly astounding. Even the cast on his broken leg didn’t seem to slow him down. He hobbled over to the bed.
“Hey, Finn,” I said without looking up from the mangled mess of my suitcase as I pushed on its bulging top, tugging at the stuck zipper.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s going on?” He scooted closer to me, but rather than look at him, I continued waging war against the cheap suitcase. When he realized I was trying to ignore him, he laid his gigantic, muscled body across the suitcase, looking up at me with his brown puppy eyes. “Jo . . . what’s up?”
“You really are an idiot,” I said, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.
“But I’m your idiot.” He blinked up at me.
I sighed. Years of experience taught me that it was useless to resist Finn. He was relentless when he was determined to get information or cheer me up. His life was fueled by the need to help other people feel as positive and upbeat as he did. “I am a disaster with men.”
“Girl, same.” Finn winked at me, and I burst out laughing.
Finn being gay wasn’t something that really defined him or our friendship. He certainly didn’t fit into any stereotypes, and sometimes, I wondered if he even noticed how amazing and special that made him. He was so comfortable in his own skin.
I flopped down on top of him with a groan, and he wrapped his arms around me and rolled so we were side by side on the bed.
“I screwed up, Finn,” I said. “I got ahead of myself and got my hopes up and now I’m just . . . ugh. I feel awful.”
Finn eyed me carefully as I spoke. Finally, he said, “What happened? Did you hook up with a client?”
“Worse,” I started. This was hard to admit to him, and I was afraid he was going to judge me. Taking a breath, I closed my eyes and said, “Lincoln.”
The look of surprise on Finn’s face was a dagger, and my insides burned with regret. “I’m so sorry, Finn,” I continued. “I don’t really know what happened. There were all these glances, and smiles, and little touches, and then there was the shower . . .” I couldn’t help myself from rambling. The words tumbled out of me. It was cathartic, and I couldn’t stop.
“One minute he’s all, ‘My Joanna,’” I said in a deep man-voice, a bad imitation of Lincoln. “And the next he’s completely ignoring me. I don’t understand him at all! He has got to be the world’s most confusing human.”
“Ok, Jo, ok. You’re going to have to slow your roll so I can catch up. You? And Lincoln?” he asked.
I folded my lips in and nodded, trying to read the varying expressions flitting over his face. “Do you hate me?” I asked timidly.
“Hate you? I could never hate you, Jo.” I waited for him to continue, but he seemed to be mulling something over in his mind. Finally, he added, “Wow.”
“I know. I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. But I promise you, Finn, I didn’t tell him. I would never betray your trust . . . I mean, besides the having sex with your brother part.”
At that, a smile widened across his handsome face. He had a boyish grin, deepening his dimples. “This is wild. I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming, but I think I love it.”
Groaning, I leaned toward him, and he wrapped me in a hug. “You are literally no help. I’m relieved you’re not mad at me, but what is with him, anyway?”
“Linc’s been through some shit. Hell, I don’t even know the half of it. He doesn’t open up to anyone. I think the Marines made sure he mastered the art of burying emotions.” Finn continued, “But you know that’s no excuse, right? I mean, I love him, but if he doesn’t see that being with you would be, like, the greatest thing to ever happen to him, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
Hearing Finn say such kind things about me made me slightly uncomfortable, but it was nice to hear. I hugged Finn tightly. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to talk to him? Kick his ass or something? I mean, I’m not sure I can take him, but I’ll give it a shot.” Finn eyed me carefully. I knew he was dead serious.
“No, of course not. I think this was just a blip. A mistake. I think I’m going to go back to my sister’s place in Butte, figure a few things out, and then get on with my life.” I sighed.
“All right, but the offer still stands,” Finn said. “I can probably get a few good shots in—maybe knock that scowl off his face or something.” He sat up and looked around the sad motel room. “You deserve better than this, Jo.”
After I walked Finn to the doorway, he wrapped me in a tight hug. “You’re the best friend a guy could ask for,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?”
“You’re pretty okay yourself.” I smiled at him. “I’ll call you next week.”
As Finn backed out of the motel parking lot in his shiny, black truck, I waved and my stomach rumbled. I determined that I would get some food, maybe a stiff drink, and a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I was going back to Butte to forget about Lincoln Scott.
