And her voice saying, Okay.
Just like that. Simple. Straightforward. Even obvious. The only right answer to a multiple-choice question.
She was curled up beside him, and he could feel the heat of her breath on his neck as she breathed deeply in sleep. He cradled the back of her head in his hand, her curls threaded through his fingers. He had almost lost her this week, but she was somehow—miraculously—recovered to him. And now that he knew what it meant, how it felt, to join his body with hers, to feel her heart beating against his, her legs open to cradle him between them, finding completeness so intense that he cried out from the pleasure of it. He couldn’t lose her again. He couldn’t know what it felt like to have her sleep beside him and then say, Goodbye, Jane. Keep in touch. It was impossible. It would, as Samara had said about Jane, break him in half.
He intended to ask her to stay. Indefinitely. But he feared two things: the first was timing. He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize their weekend together by asking her too soon. The second was that he didn’t actually know what her answer would be, and the possibility of her refusal leveled him to the ground. She had only lived in big cities: San Francisco, Boston and New York. Her life was full of exotic travel and glamorous adventures…and even if she didn’t work for Samara anymore, surely she wouldn’t be able to leave that life behind completely. Surely Gardiner wouldn’t be enough.
If it would break Lars in half to lose Jane, the other half of Lars would break if he left Yellowstone behind. He believed that everything good about who he was and what he was, in his life and in his heart, was because Yellowstone owned something deep inside of him, which lost, like a compass without a magnet, would leave him ungrounded.
He drew strength from the very earth in the park, the music of its beckoning call in his ears at all moments throughout the day. He had learned courage and prudence from his awareness of everything wild and unpredictable that lived and lurked in every corner and crevice, patience and faith from bearing witness to the shifting seasons. He knew his personal definitions of certainty, hope, respect, tolerance, mercy and dignity had come into his life through days in the park, through lessons learned there, and moments found there. His bond was strong and true, tethering him to the sacred place that was Yellowstone.
He closed his eyes, sighing. They weren’t mutually exclusive; Lars could have Jane, if Jane would stay. With a leaden heart, he knew that if Jane wouldn’t stay, he would have to say goodbye to her, and it twisted his heart to even imagine it. For the first time in his life, the only time, he resented the hold of his park on his heart, even as he couldn’t deny it and couldn’t abjure it either.
He leaned back and looked at her sleeping face, her red, swollen lips, and curls that fringed the delicate shell of her ear. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings for her, the sheer force of his longing to have her remain in his life, he felt a wave of deep emotion fill his heart like a tidal pool until it overflowed. It was as simple and certain as the green of her eyes, or the softness of her skin, or the heat of her smaller body beside him right now, or anything else that was real and true and wholly uncomplicated in his life:
Lars wasn’t falling in love with Jane.
He was already irrevocably, terminally in love with her.
CHAPTER 12
Lars drove Jane back to her hotel early in the morning so she could shower and change, and he arranged for his father to handle Ray, Margot and Shanelle’s ride up to Bozeman for their flight back to New York. A park excursion trumped making an airport transfer any day, and Lars seemed delighted to get out of one in lieu of the other.
“Your dad didn’t mind?” Jane asked, as they pulled into the still dark hotel parking lot.
“Nah. Park comes first. Unwritten rule.”
“Even if I’m not a paying customer?”
“Even then.”
She grinned at him and purred, “Grizzlies.”
“If we can find ‘em.” He unbuckled his seat belt and slid over to her, putting his hands on her face and kissing her gently. “Best night of my life, Minx.”
She beamed at him. “It wasn’t half bad.”
“Room for improvement?”
“Can’t see how…but practice does make perfect.”
“You’re gonna get me all hot again.”
She pecked his lips and unbuckled her seat belt, looking back at him one more time. He was too gorgeous with his blond bed head and lazy, tired eyes. He was tired because of her. The thought made her breath hitch as images of their night together rushed in, surrounding her.
“I’ll be back in an hour. Six sharp,” he said, sliding back to his seat and buckling up. “Coffee?”
“I’d love it. Thanks,” she said, grinning at him.
She slipped into her dark, quiet hotel room and stood with her back against the door for a moment, listening to his truck drive away. Then she hugged herself and giggled, jumping onto her bed with an elated shriek. The last time she’d been alone in this room, she’d been curled up on the bed weeping after hearing that horrible recorded conversation, sure that Lars was lost to her. What a difference a day makes.
And a night.
“Lars,” she breathed his name aloud, as she had over and over again last night, and lowered her arm, taking a deep breath. She didn’t want to shower yet. She could still smell him on her body.
She stood up and looked at herself in the large mirror that spanned the bureau across from the bed, and she barely recognized herself. She was stunned by how pretty she looked. Her lips were rosy and bee-stung from so much kissing, her cheeks had a light tan, and her eyes were luminous in her face, deep green, as if transformed by…by…what?
Staring at herself, she realized, with a startling clarity, that at some point over the past week, she’d probably had an opportunity to turn back, to walk away, to give up. Whether she hadn’t recognized the opportunity at the time, or had ignored it entirely, she hadn’t taken it. And now it was too late.
Jane placed her fingers on her chest gingerly and felt the strength of her pumping heart recklessly declaring to whom it now belonged. She tilted her head and smiled at her reflection, at the pretty girl in the mirror, because despite having nothing in her life until now with which to compare the depth and strength and ferocity of her feelings, she instinctively knew.
She was falling in love with Lars Lindstrom.
***
After a quick shower, she put on the slim-fit jeans she’d bought at the boutique in Gardiner, and made a mental note to go back there later today to see if they had anything she could wear to church tomorrow. She couldn’t very well attend a christening in jeans.
She threw on her cream t-shirt, making another mental note to do a quick load of laundry at Sara’s cottage, or she’d have nothing clean left to wear. She shrugged into her brown suede jacket. It would be chilly in the park this morning.
She pulled her damp curls back into another cute ponytail, securing the loose ends with a few pins. Her lips were still rocking a pretty rosy glow, so she swiped on some lip gloss pilfered from Sara’s trailer leftovers. When he knocked on her door, she was ready. She picked up her backpack, which she had loaded up with her camera, various lenses and filters and threw her sunglasses on top of her head.