Risky Moves

Not for Zack.

“I’m fine with that,” she said, ever so brightly.

Allie patted her hand. “Sure you are.”

“Zack and Cathy are perfect together. I’m thrilled for them.”

“Yeah, yeah. We all are.” Allie’s smile wound tighter and tighter until her homely freckled face was all squinched up, twisting her expression into a grimace. She released it, casting a guilty glance at Fred. “Anyhoo. A bunch of us are getting together after to commiserate—er, to celebrate. Har, har.”

Julia murmured something noncommittal. She wasn’t in the mood to listen to Allie and Gwen and the Thompson twins and other assorted singletons moan and groan about their great unrequited love for Zack. When it came to the Brody men, she knew too well how they felt. And it didn’t pay to linger on it.

Action, she reminded herself. She’d promised that this time she would go into action instead of sitting and waiting for Adam to come to her. No more doing the right thing. No more boring, well-behaved good girl.

“It’s a warm night for October. We were talking about a bonfire on the beach, just like old times. Some of the guys are coming, too.” Allie chuckled. “With liquor, I betcha. They’re thinking if they get a few of you bridesmaids comfortably numb, the pickings will be easy.”

Julia started to shake her head, then stopped. “Will—um, who’s going?”

“Me and Fred. Gwen, Karen and Kelly. I don’t know about Faith—she’s been even quieter than usual lately. Probably grieving over Zack. All of the groomsmen will be there, and maybe one or two of the guys from Fred and Zack’s basketball league.”

“Adam?” Julia blurted.

Allie polished off the cake before she answered. “It was his idea. You know Adam.”

Never indoors when he could be out. Always the first to move, to dare, to go. Farther and farther away each time, harder and harder to catch up to.

He was a comet, burning through the sky. She was only Julia Knox, her feet stuck on the ground. If she reached for him, she might be badly burned. Did she dare try?

I have to. This is my last chance.

“I’ll be there,” she said. “After I go home and change.”

Allie scanned the pumpkin-colored dress. It was too frou-frou for Julia’s taste, but out of solidarity with her fellow Quimby shopkeepers, Cathy had insisted on patronizing the lone local bridal shop—where tasteful choices were woefully limited. The dresses at Bridal Bonanza got a lot worse than frou-frou.

“Always a bridesmaid, huh?” Allie said with a bit of an edge, because she hadn’t been asked to be one. Although outwardly happy in her marriage, her interference in Zack’s love life had once gone too far. Fortunately for her, Zack and Cathy were forgiving sorts.

Julia smiled too sweetly. “Maybe we can all move on now that Zack’s off the market for good.”

Allie shrugged, quickly changing subjects. “There’s always Adam, I guess. Even if he’s not much of a marriage prospect. No steady job, no house, no savings account…”

I already have those things, Julia thought. Turns out they’re not enough.

“…and now there are his weak legs and all. He’s sure not the kind of guy you can count on.”

Julia disagreed. She knew firsthand that though Adam wasn’t as perfect as his brother—he made mistakes, and she’d been one of them—he also had enough pride, courage and loyalty for ten men. In many ways, however, even though they were the same age and had grown up in the same small town and attended the same school, he was still an enigma to her. He was so disciplined, yet utterly reckless, seemingly fearless. She’d always found him fascinating, the kind of man who would challenge her to be more than expected.

And she needed such a challenge. She needed it now.

Julia forced herself to focus on the conversation instead of her secret desires. “You know Adam better than me,” she told Allie with a shrug, even though that wasn’t completely true. Allie, who’d lived next door to the Brody brothers, had been buddies—only buddies—with both of them. She and Adam had egged each other on in their pranks and misadventures, with Zack the guardian who was always there to get them out of trouble.

“Sure, but I never woulda dated him.” Allie was watching the men, who apparently thought they were slipping out of the restaurant unnoticed. Fred Spangler tiptoed past the bar, as if a two-hundred-pound car salesman with a mop of curly blond hair could sneak anywhere. His wife shook her head fondly. “I like a beefier man.” She chuckled. “And I got me a steer.”

“I didn’t date him, either,” Julia said, her eyes on Adam. He moved easily between the tables, avoiding hails of recognition by keeping his gaze focused on the exit.

Eyes on the exit. That was Adam Brody to a T.

“Nope.” Allie had switched her attention to the newlyweds. “It was always you and Zack, two peas in a pod.”

Adam looked over his shoulder at the last moment, straight at Julia. A telling warmth bloomed in her cheeks. She’d been wanting him for too many years to be able to switch her feelings off fast enough to completely hide them from his notice. Not even years of practice made perfect.

She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “Maybe we were too perfect together,” she heard herself saying, as if from a distance. All her energy was focused on Adam, who broke their moment of mutual awareness as quickly as he’d started it. He slipped beyond her sight, the heavy carved doors of the former bank building closing solidly behind him.

“How’s that?” Allie asked.

Julia waved a vague hand, waiting for her hammering pulse to fade. “Um, you know. There was no lasting heat.” Not a problem as far as Adam was concerned, even with very little encouragement.

Zack had been her first love, a puppy love, the summer she was sixteen. Adam hadn’t caught her attention in that way then—he was still a scrawny boy, always off poking around in the woods and climbing anything vertical, including the post office flagpole. Zack had been slightly older, a handsome icon of maturity and popularity, working as the lifeguard at the Mirror Lake beach. Everyone had said they belonged together. Soon Julia and Zack believed it, too. And since they were the kind of people who did what was expected of them, they’d lasted longer than they ought to have.

“No heat?” Allie repeated. “C’mon. I remember how you two always looked so right together. High-school sweethearts. Every girl in town envied you.”

“That was years ago. We broke up, remember?”

Allie reached for a beribboned party-favor bag and tore apart the netting with her fingernails. Pastel mints and candied almonds spilled across the tablecloth. She began popping them in her mouth one by one until her lips were puckered. “And it’s just coincidence that you haven’t been serious with anyone since?”

“I’ve dated,” Julia said. “Plenty.” At least by Quimby standards.

“Yeah, stodgy guys with briefcases and beepers.”

“Suits me fine. I have my own briefcase and beeper.” Julia nibbled an almond. After working for one of the nationwide real-estate franchises for a few years, she’d come back to Quimby to open her own agency. It was doing very well, by Quimby standards.

“Which is why you need the opposite, of course!” Cathy Timmerman—Cathy Brody, Julia remembered—swooped on them with the numerous layers of her swagged ivory skirts bunched in her hands. She kicked out a chair with the toe of a dyed-to-match ivory pump and collapsed with a loud exhale. “Gad. Weddings really take it out of you.”

“But the honeymoon puts it back in,” Julia said, giving Cathy’s hand a squeeze. Quite a reach over their voluminous, rustling gowns.

“No, that’s the groom’s job,” Allie said mischievously.

Cathy groaned. “Please, no more bawdy honeymoon jokes. I’ve had enough of those from Zack’s uncle Brady. Brady Brody, if you can believe it. That’s him in the magenta velvet tux. He thinks it’s funny to sneak into every picture our photographer takes.”

“I remember Uncle Brady,” Julia said. “He used to pinch my derriere at family functions. Consider yourself forewarned, Cath.”

“Too late. He got in a good one right there in the receiving line. But with all these layers of tulle and genuine polyester silk, what was the point?”

They laughed.

“Zack didn’t tell me about his relatives,” Cathy continued. “Turns out there are heaps of them.” She tried to frown, but nothing could take away the happiness that wreathed her face as clearly as the floral headpiece framed her sable hair. Despite the over-the-top Bridal Bonanza finery, Julia had never seen a bride who glowed more than Cathy. There was no doubt that Zack had chosen right this time around.

“We booked hotel rooms all over the county, and it still seems as though most of them are bunking in at either Zack’s house or mine. We haven’t managed a moment to ourselves for days and days.”

Then neither would Adam, Julia thought, knowing how much he’d hate that.

“When do you escape?” Allie asked, crunching.

“Very soon now.” Cathy’s eyes gleamed with anticipation as they followed Zack, who was making one last turn around the room, distributing thanks and handshakes. “I can hardly wait.” She looked sidelong at her grinning friends. “Not for that. For the peace and quiet.” She paused, reflecting. “And maybe some of that, too.”

Cathy was a lucky bride, Julia told herself. Her groom was an exceptional man. Julia had known so even before a dozen Quimby busybodies had taken it upon themselves to inform her that she’d let a good one get away. She had no hope of explaining why their chemistry hadn’t worked when she didn’t understand it herself. Put Zack together with Cathy, a relative newcomer to Quimby, and the pair of them smoked. You could practically see the steam rising from their pores.

Maybe it was the comfort and normalcy that had doomed Julia’s relationship with Zack. And that continued to doom her with the few acceptable men she’d encountered since. Briefcases, beepers and boredom—she knew them far too well.

The other two women were discussing the honeymoon plans, six days of autumnal marital bliss at a mountain resort. “By the time we return, I’m hoping all the relatives will have gone,” Cathy confessed in a whisper. “It’s going to be cozy enough as it is, living right next door to Zack’s parents until our new house is built.”

“And Adam, too,” Julia said. “If he stays, that is.”

“Oh, his mother’s working on that. Whereas Zack said we were lucky that his brother agreed to fly in last night instead of putting it off until this morning. I hear Adam’s always been impossible to peg down.”

“He missed the rehearsal dinner.” Julia had been all pins and needles, anticipating the sight of him. Instead her first glimpse had come this afternoon, in the church itself, when she’d preceded Cathy down the aisle. The shock of Adam’s magnifying presence and stark, handsome face had put a noticeable stutter in her step. Enough that the busybodies had clucked over it, though none had guessed the true reason. They all thought she was regretting the loss of Zack.

“Does he know that Laurel booked herself onto a convenient Mediterranean cruise ship so she wouldn’t be in town for the wedding?” Allie said, looking from one woman to the other.

“He knows.” Cathy was eyeing Julia with too much sympathy. Now that the mints were gone, Allie was beginning to notice. “Laurel’s not what matters.”

Allie’s lips pursed. “His legs?”

“His legs are fine,” Julia insisted. Too much emphasis.

Allie squinched again, her eyes narrowing to slits, her long nose twitching suspiciously.

“You only have to look at him to see.” Julia couldn’t seem to stop herself. Very unlike her. “He’s every bit as vital as he was when he left.”

“Vital?” Allie echoed. “Like a daily vitamin?” She chortled. “If I were you, I wouldn’t count on Adam sticking around for another dose tomorrow, let alone the long haul.”

Julia winced. “If you were me? I—I’m not counting on anything. Which isn’t the point, anyway. All I meant—” She took a breath, appalled at herself for losing her cool for so little reason. “Nothing. Forget it.”

Cathy stepped in. “Allie, would you gather together the single women? It’s time I threw the bouquet.” As soon as Allie was out of earshot, she turned to the flustered Julia. “Honey—are you okay? I knew it was going to be hard on you, seeing Adam again.”

You don’t know the half of it, Julia thought. She clenched her hands, safely hidden in a lapful of tulle netting. Cathy had guessed about Julia’s feelings for Adam months ago, when Julia had confessed that—contrary to public speculation—she was not heartbroken over Zack. But Cathy didn’t know that there was a lot more to the story.

“Well, sure,” Julia said slowly, “I was a little nervous about what to expect. But it turns out that Adam’s still Adam.”

Cathy laughed. “Is that good or bad? I haven’t known him long enough to tell.”

Julia mulled it over. He was good for a change—her change—but a mighty bad influence on her usual rock-steady equilibrium. “It’s both,” she said. “Adam’s always been…” She gave a wordless gesture, knowing there was no rhyme or reason for her attraction to the man. Adam Brody was just there—a dream in her head, a knot in her stomach, a longing in her heart.

“Impossible to peg down,” Cathy said, nodding. “I like him, though. After hearing all the stories, I thought he’d be one of those careless extreme-sports dudes with the cocky attitudes. But he’s not—he’s quiet and intelligent, with a dry sense of humor. When I think of all he’s been through—” Catching Julia’s misting eyes, she broke off. “Ah, but I don’t need to tell you, do I?”

Julia gave a watery sniff. “At eighteen, he was pretty darn cocky. The Brodys worried like crazy over his daredevil tendencies, and they never even learned about some of the wilder escapades.” She thought sadly of the new hesitation about Adam, the look of worry in his eyes that had aged him beyond twenty-eight. “But I suspect he’s changed some after the car accident.”

“Maybe you’ll get the chance to find out?” Cathy gave her a sisterly little nudge.

“Maybe.”

“Try to persuade him to stay, will you?”

Julia was going to say that Adam had never before paid any attention to her requests, but just then Allie and a swarm of eager guests arrived, buzzing with excitement over the bridal bouquet and the newlyweds’ impending departure. Julia was swept into the celebratory crowd despite her reluctance. She didn’t believe in superstition and sentiment—she believed in drawing up a plan and making things happen.

The wedding guests surged out of the restaurant into the gravel parking lot. Zack’s black Jaguar was decked out in shaving cream, ribbons of crepe paper, tin cans, pinwheels and the traditional Just Married placard. Julia picked Adam out from the crowd, her heart expanding when she saw the genuine smile on his face. The honey-colored glow of the sunset caught in his mossgreen eyes, lighting them up like twin fireflies.

Ten years, she thought, her chest hurting. I’ve been feeling like this for ten years. That’s long enough.

Long enough to make even a sane woman ready to jump out of an airplane.

Cathy and Zack stood on the doorstep beneath the deep stone arch of the entrance, looking exactly like the model couple for a wedding cake topper. They hugged Zack’s parents and Cathy’s dad, Admiral Wallace Winston Bell, then ran toward their getaway vehicle in a shower of flower petals. Cathy paused at the open car door, held up her bouquet to a cheer from the crowd and with a graceful flick of her wrist tossed it high in the air.

The single women jostled for position. Julia followed the bouquet’s spinning arc, her hands involuntarily reaching to the sky before she remembered and pulled them in. Gwendolyn Case, a token member of the Heartbroken club even though she’d already been married and divorced twice, made an impressive leap and catch despite the billowing skirts of her size eighteen pumpkin-colored bridesmaid dress and size eleven dyed-to-match pumps. A roar went up from the guests as the admiral swept her up for a big hug and smooch.

As Zack and Cathy drove away in a clatter, Julia met Adam’s eyes over the milling crowd. I don’t want a bridal bouquet. I’m as free and easy and daring as you, she wanted to say, but settled for a little smile of mutual amusement before his extended family of uncles and in-laws and cousins thrice removed descended en masse, blocking him from view.

Poor Adam, she thought, getting an idea.

2

YES, INDEED. Now that she was eighteen and officially legal, making love to Zack was the safe, even expected thing to do. None of their friends would have believed they’d held out this long, considering they’d been going together for two years. Julia wasn’t sure why they had delayed, except that she’d always pulled back at the last moment. Losing her virginity was a momentous occasion, and she was a cautious person.

Too cautious, maybe.

“It’s now or never,” she vowed, but flinched when a knock at the door finally came. How silly. She’d considered the situation very carefully before deciding that Zack was the one. There was no reason to be unsure about letting him in.

It would be okay. Julia put her hand on the knob. Zack was the safe, smart choice. He would take care of her.

“JULIA!” The cries went up.

“Girlfriend! You made it! Come and join the party.”

“Hot damn, another bridesmaid!”

Adam didn’t chime in. Instead he crouched to feed another piece of wood into the bonfire, trying unsuccessfully to keep his eyes off the latest arrival at the impromptu beach party. Julia wore black leggings with low boots and a bulky sweater, her hair pulled straight back from her face. When she turned to accept a beer from Fred, the firelight gilded her profile like the delicate, curved designs on a Chinese vase. She’d always had a way about her—neat, clean, exacting, pedestal pure. Even after he’d ruined it all by touching her.

The flames leaped, devouring the dry wood. He threw on a chunk of punky log. Sparks rose in a glittering curtain. Rocking back on his heels, he watched as they dispersed, finding one glowing fleck that floated high in the dark sky, following a meandering path before finally winking out.

Most of the crowd sat on lawn chairs or beach blankets. Julia passed up a couple of offers, circling the group until she came to Adam. “Have a seat,” he said after an awkward moment, aware of her in his peripheral vision even though his gaze remained on the crackling fire.

“Hi.” She sat on the old felled log he’d been using as a seat. It had been on this beach for as long as he remembered.

“Hi.”

“There’s room for two.”

The fire wasn’t going anywhere. He edged backward until he was perched on the log. Half buried in the sand, it was weathered gray and smooth, all but a few stubborn shreds of bark worn off by countless numbers of beach bums.

“Want a beer?” she said, tilting her bottle.

“I’ve got one, thanks.” He reached for it, tucked out of the way in a fork of the log’s broken branches.

The tension between them seemed unbearable. What had happened to his long resolve to treat her as just another of his brother’s admirers? It had worked for years, keeping them from exchanging more than the average meaningless chitchat. And stopping him from touching her, except for the occasional quick hug hello or a casual brush of the shoulders or hands or hips.

Had Zack’s marriage ripped away the chains?

No. Adam’s limbs wouldn’t feel so heavy and his reactions so slow if that were the case.

The electric shock zinging through his veins he could ignore if he kept trying.

Julia looped her arms around her knees. “I can’t help thinking that Zack should be here,” she said softly, keeping their conversation to themselves among the more raucous back-and-forth of the others.

“I miss him, too.”

“He’s always been the leader of this crowd.” She scanned the circle of good friends, laughing and talking in the warm, radiant glow of the fire. “Even with most of us married or moved away, busy with careers and children, we’ll always be close. That’s what’s so special about small towns.”

“Is that why you chose to live in Quimby permanently?”

She glanced at him, then quickly away. “Sure. Partly.”

He didn’t press. He never did—not with Julia. It wouldn’t do him any good to know the answers.

Arm’s length, he thought. A safe distance. Even though he could feel her, sitting beside him so blamelessly, their legs not quite touching. Her cheek was rosy in the firelight, the smooth sweep of her ponytail honey gold threaded with a rich amber brown. He’d never stopped wanting to touch her hair. Her face. Her throat. Her breasts.

“I was surprised that Zack came back,” he said, “after all the trouble with Laurel and the wedding that wasn’t.” His brother was a good subject to keep between them.

“Oh, no. Zack belongs here.”

“Not like me.”

Someone had brought a CD player. Fred jumped up and shook his rump—and his beer gut—in an attempt to get Allie to dance around the fire with him. Jeering, she pelted him with corn chips. Through all the noise, Zack heard Julia’s quick intake of breath.

“How can you say that?” She leaned closer, looking him full in the face with her hand on his knee. “You belong here as much as anyone.”

“I’m no Zack.”

She gave a mystified shake of the head. “So what?”

He shrugged. Put that way, he sounded like an idiot. “All I meant was—Zack is more prominent. The leader, like you said. No one would miss me if I stayed away permanently.”

Julia lifted her hand off his knee. “I guess not.”

Oh.

She took a long drink of the beer, even though he knew she wasn’t crazy about the taste. Dabbed her lips with the edge of her sleeve. To show she was aware that he was watching, she gave him a bland smile, deliberately saying nothing more.

He got the point. One, quit whining. Two, don’t ask for ego reinforcement from the one woman who had particular reason to notice when he was gone. Even though she couldn’t admit it, Julia was as aware of him as he was of her. And that was plenty. Each time he returned home, he scrutinized every detail about her. When they were together, he was continually aware of where she was in proximity to him, who she was talking to, of her every laugh and gesture and smile. He could close his eyes and identify her by smell. Clean and fresh with a hint of sunny lavender. Never cloying.

Better for him to stay away, he thought, feeling desire stirring his gut.

Always the same attraction—and the same conclusion.

“I suppose you’ll be leaving soon,” she said casually.

He’d been in Idaho far too long—a stay enforced by his accident and slow recovery. As much as he enjoyed the state’s rugged outdoor life—the beautiful but treacherous mountains and rivers—he usually craved new experiences before too long. But this past year had been different. Idle and faced with too much time to think, he’d found himself longing not for unseen vistas but for the rolling hills and open farmland of Quimby, his humble hometown.

But that was only because the unknown was out of reach to him now.

Had to be.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” he confessed.

Julia showed her surprise. “Oh, pfft. Adam Brody always has somewhere to go.”

“No job.” Over the years, he’d worked a variety of jobs, from tree surgeon to river guide to sky dive instructor to construction. All of them physical and beyond his present capabilities. “Gave up my lease.” First time in his life he’d had a lease—an experience he didn’t plan to repeat. “All my meager possessions are packed in the back of my Jeep.”

“A sleeping bag, a tent, a mountain bike and a kayak,” she said. “A pair of hiking boots and enough rock-climbing equipment to scale the Manhattan skyline.”

“That about sums it up.” He tilted his head and drained the beer, thinking of two possessions she’d missed—the cane that Zack had kept replacing each time Adam snapped one in frustration and the worn photo that was always buttoned in one of his shirts or jacket pockets. He kept the first under the car seat for the rare times he needed it. The second was Julia on her eighteenth birthday.